In addition, as I wrote about in our post about the Mozambique Channel, there is also the issue of local, machine guns carrying officials who are not familiar with the UNCLOS (United Nations Conventions on the Law of the Sea), which states that “Force Majeure” ships are allowed to stop in a country and can do so without being levied. So it was with some hesitation we approached the anchorage of Inhaca, near the Mozambican capital, Maputo.
And indeed, arriving in the Maputo channel we were hailed by Port Control on the radio. We diligently explained our situation and that we intended to make an emergency stop at Inhaca Island. Once at anchor, as we were catching up on some sorely needed sleep, we were approached by a small boat carrying the Island’s Maritime officer and a police officer. They were very friendly (and for some reason very surprised that neither of us spoke Portuguese!), asked us a few questions about our stop, and told us to come to shore to the office and bring our papers. We had heard about this office and knew that sailors often paid a small fee which allowed them to move around freely. So, in we went, paid our small fee, and went back to the boat. Then…
Four hours later a large, black boat with a metal ramp at the bow, carrying menacing-looking officers in various uniforms, some wielding machine guns approaches. Sadly, they seem to issue these fellows with a boat, but not any training on how to actually manoeuvre it. As a result, we have scratches and marks on the boat from their three unsuccessful attempts to dock on to our boat. At one point, their “captain” (I call him that very hesitantly) drove the boat, metal ramp first, straight into one of our bows! I yelled at them that under no circumstances were they to attempt docking up to us again, but to come back when it was calmer conditions and maybe complete a boat driving lesson or two. Sadly, my little outburst made no impression whatsoever on any of them. Evidently “menacing-looking officer with machine guns” trumps “shouting woman, angrily stomping her feet”. Fair enough. The fourth attempt was, however, successful.
Once tied up, most men stayed on their boat, whilst four men and one machine gun entered ours. All smiles and apologies for the inconvenience, and then proceeded to search our boat top to bottom. Cupboards were opened, mattresses lifted, and we even had to unscrew a wall to show that nothing illicit was hidden there. Craig followed the inspectors around answering questions like “This is icing sugar officer. It’s used in baking. No, it’s not a drug. Baking. Like cake. You know what? Here’s a spoon, try it. Good right? Yes, it’s completely legal”.
Meanwhile, I was trying to engage with the machine gun-carrying soldier. As I do not speak Portuguese and he didn’t speak English, it was a rather short encounter. I did, however, manage to get his permission to take his photo, as long as he didn’t have to smile. Menacing demeanour must be upheld.
In fairness, they were super nice, and we had a few laughs during their visit. When one of the inspectors found my guitar, he lit up and played us a little tune and received praise for his efforts. He was super stoked. After not having found anything of interest, they left us, and we thought that was that. Then…
The following day we were asked to come back to the Maritime office to get our passports stamped. This surprised us, as we were not checking in. However, things had gone quite smoothly, and if all they wanted to do was add stamps in our passports, we had no real objections.
That was until we came back to the tiny little Maritime office where 12 officials had crammed themselves in (no aircon and 30 degrees outside). We were a little surprised to see such an onslaught of officials who had arrived on the morning ferry from Maputo for our benefit only. They took our passports, asked a lot of questions, and after a few minutes of deliberation Customs and Immigration told us that would be USD 300, please. We looked at them, paused, then smiled and said “No”. They raised eyebrows and we raised the UNCLOS articles relevant to our case. Which insistently was exactly the right thing to do.
Now something interesting happened. As soon as I raised the UNCLOS, we apparently came under the protection of the Maritime Police (who did know the law and even had a printed copy with them). They, together with the Maritime Office now argued on our behalf. And so it was that for the next six hours (yes, really, 6 hours) we sat and watched 12 Mozambican officials arguing in Portuguese; Customs and Immigration on one side, and Maritime Police and Maritime Office on the other (our) side. As we had little idea of what was being said, we leant back, slightly bewildered, and enjoyed the show.
Nearing 4pm there was still no agreement, and they started getting really agitated. When we asked what was going on, the one official who spoke English informed us that the ferry was soon leaving and if an agreement was not reached, they would miss the ferry and have to stay the night on the island. None of them wanted that.
For a minute it looked like the opposition would give in so that they could leave the island, but then the rather clever immigration officer dropped his trump card: They would leave on the ferry and bring our passports with them. We could come into Maputo to get them the following day. Bummer! There was no way we were going to let them leave with our passports. With the help of the Police, we came to an agreement to pay USD 200, and they would stamp our passports in and out, and we could do whatever we wanted after that. Once the passports were stamped, everyone was super happy and apologetic for the inconvenience, and hugs and blow kisses were shared. Seriously, I’m not making that up. We were totally baffled, $200 poorer, and a weird experience richer.
POST NOTE: I did send an email to both the Immigration and Customs, full of legal jargon (thanks Emilia), quoting UNCLOS and hinting at legal action should they not repay us. I was under no illusion that they would respond. And for once, they lived up to exceptions.
