Caught in the FedEx/Yanmar black holes

Niord's Big Adventure
Tony Gratton
Thu 20 Jul 2023 19:47
Thursday 20/07/2023 Povoa de Varzim
It's exactly a week since we arrived with the intention
of staying one night before moving South. Karen celebrates the anniversary with
an ear infection which has made the side of her face swell up. The helpful
marina staff try to get her a doctors appointment. No-one answers the phone.
Nice to know that Portugal is no different than England isn't it? Or maybe not
in this case...
Better news. We get a surprise WhatsApp. The engineer is
coming this morning! Even better still the first of the hen's teeth parcels is
due to arrive today.
The engineer has a good poke around. We run the engine
and put it into gear for him. He agrees it's a good idea to fit the bolts (not
sure if he has spotted the lateral play in the shaft), and to check the engine
alignment. He also thinks there's a possible problem with one of the engine
mounts. All plausible stuff. His English is about as good as Tony's Portuguese,
so all this is done via his secretary back at the office. He'll be back tomorrow
to check the engine alignment. After past experiences, Tony will be watching him
like a hawk, if he comes. Let's hope he solves problems and doesn't create
more...
Karen goes to the marina office to make the doctor's
appointment. She never makes it. She gets waylaid by a British chap down the
pontoon whose engine has packed in. She gets his life history. His vocabulary is
worse than Gordon Ramsay's (sorry Gordon). She loses the will to live, and
decides not to go to the doctors.
Meanwhile, there's a hitch with the hen's teeth
delivery. Delayed at customs, requiring further information from the importer.
What the hell does that mean? Try the FedEx app. No joy. Try the FAQ. No joy.
Try the online chat. It's manned by a chatbot not a human. No joy. Try the
customer services phone line. It's manned by a robot. No joy. WHAT DO I HAVE TO
DO TO GET THIS PARCEL RELEASED!!! Send an email using the proforma in
desperation then give up. Karen finds a phone number in Portugal. Miracle! It's
manned by a human. He speaks basic English. Customs have decided to do a random
check, and of course have decided to pick on our parcel. There's nothing we can
do. If they decide they want more information they will be in touch. Usually, it
takes from one to three working days. Joy (not). Our £50 next day delivery just
got transformed into a next week delivery on the whim of some job's worth in
customs!
No information on our second package. According to the
app it hasn't been collected and is still in Aylesbury. An email to the supplier
reveals that FexEx turned up early yesterday, and our parcel was not ready for
shipment, so we've lost another day on that one.
Decide to cheer ourselves up with lunch out. Pick a
locals' restaurant with a 'prato do dia' (set menu of the day) for 8 Euros.
Looks good. Like most places here the menu is in Portuguese, but we can see pork
and fish on there so decide to go for it. Tony tries ordering in (Brasilian)
Portuguese. A blank look from the waitress. There's a pattern forming here. She
asks us what language we speak in German, then in English. "English" we say. She
doesn't speak that, so gets the chef who does (kind of). The fish has finished,
but he still has pork. It comes with fish (which has finished for those of you
paying attention), and rice, and chips. The warning lights are now flashing
red... We start with soup. A big soup with lots of veggies. Next for the main
event. First, a massive plate of sauteed potatoes. Followed in quick succession
by a massive plate each of pork in a sauce cooked to within an inch of its life,
with a massive heap of clams! He said fish not clams! We both have a Mr Bean
moment. Karen decides to cunningly hide most of the contents of her shellfish
beneath the upturned shells, as there are no potted plants nearby and her
handbag is too small. Tony ploughs on. We think about buying some extra Diacalm
as we're a good twenty minutes away from the facilities. We laugh! We do our
best, but it defeats us. The chef persuades us to have a dessert and coffee. The
staff are very friendly. Sure enough, that massive meal comes to 8 Euros
each. We leave a big tip, they were so nice.
We find one of the better bits of town. Inside the old
castle there are a couple of nice restaurants, and a coffee shop. There's a
lovely view from the ramparts. Let's get things into perspective. Life's not so
bad. Ours are first world problems.
Back aboard Niord, Tony decides to attack the water pump
issue. We notify the UK supplier that we may want to make a warranty claim. They
tell us it's possible, but we have to return it. To them. We explain
(again) that we're in Portugal en route for the Canaries and
the Caribbean, it's kind of useful aboard, we don't have a replacement, and
by the way given that it cost us several hundred quid maybe the quality should
be a little better. We ask if we can take it to a European Yanmar dealer. Of
course we can, but they won't want to do anything for us because they will be
out of pocket, as the refund has to be made by the UK importer who have to have
it in their hands. We politely explain that's not possible as we need it. We're
trapped in another infinite loop. Help! Tony explains to the chap that having
paid a few hundred quid for shoddy goods that perhaps Yanmar would like to try a
bit harder? He promises to pass the message on. To be fair, he comes back with
some other things we can check, and offers to help us as much as he can. Other
than that no dice.
As we're going to be here a while longer we decide
to inflate the dinghy tomorrow. Tony reads the manual for our new outboard.
He sees the spark plug gap measurement, and realises that his conversion from
thou' into millimetres yesterday was out by a factor of ten. The shaft was in
tolerance, not out of it! Still, the engineer is coming now. Will be interesting
to see what he finds...
It's Thursday, so we can have a drink. Things look
better from the bottom of a Plymouth G & T glass. Our second package is due
to arrive tomorrow. I'm not holding my breath, as I may well expire before it
arrives...
|