One of the challenges a sailor faces is filling propane or butane bottles in various countries. Pretty harsh to run out of gas in the middle of an ocean required for preparing meals, coffee, and tea. But when you arrive in South Africa with a butane bottle from Tanzania, that bottle might as well be from a different planet.
A quick search on the internet shows that there are dozens of different fittings. And although there is some standardization in parts of the world, there are regions within single countries with various fittings and regulations. It really is a mess.
Getting propane, or butane, it depends where you are in the world, has become increasingly more difficult. In poorer countries like Tanzania, these bottles are sold, or filled, pretty well on every street corner as the primary cooking source. In first-world countries, such as Canada, you can have a bottle filled at many gas stations or petrol stations, if that’s the term you use. In Australia and many European nations, you exchange your empty bottle for a full one.
When I was in Darwin with Steve, I phoned multiple places to see if they would fill the American bottles. None could do it, while if I had an Australian bottle, I could have exchanged it at the gas station two hundred meters from the marina. Ultimately, we found a place to fill them, an hour’s bus ride away. In Darwin, public transport is free.
Ken and I had already purchased a gas bottle at Woodstock Gas here in Cape Town on Albert Road. ZAR 1188 for the bottle and gas. Just a fill would be around ZAR 200, but we need a second bottle anyway. But now, can we fill the Tanzanian bottle, or will we toss it in favor of a new one? At Woodstock Gas, they did not know offhand if they could fill it. Unlikely, the lady behind the counter said, but bring it in.
So when Ken pointed at the yellow bottle from Tanzania and said, see what you can do, I wasn’t all that optimistic that this would work. Instead of going to Woodstock Gas directly, I took the bottle to the marina’s office. You’d think they would know, they must deal with this all the time, but they pointed me to a yachting servicing and sales office down the block, which, of course, was closed. After a spell of twiddling thumbs, the owner showed up, inspected the yellow bottle, shook his head, and said he couldn’t do anything with it.
I told him we had been to Woodstock Gas, and an employee said they would have a look at it. The yachting servicing guy rolled his eyes and said he works a lot with Woodstock Gas, and they do not have the equipment to fill it. But, he said, Dave at Action Yachting at the Royal Cape Yacht Club can help you. I guarantee he can fill it.
So I got an Uber, Frankline from Cameroon, came here illegally twelve years ago, now legal and making a living driving a car. First, to Paarden Island to pick up some fuses, then to the Yacht Club to see Dave for the bottle refill. Dave looked at the bottle and said there was no change in hell to get this filled in Cape Town.
Alright, back in Frankline’s car, off to 34 Albert Street to see the lady at Woodstock Gas, either for a refill or a new bottle. Probably the latter. I walked into the store, and a technician grabbed the bottle from me, had a good look at it, shook his head, and said can’t be done.
The lady who had suggested bringing it in the previous day, sitting behind the counter, finished her phone call and inspected the bottle. And I could tell she was going to do some magic. A heavy-set black lady with an afro I once aspired to grow but never did, and I’m sorry I don’t know her name or didn’t take her picture. She was terrific, and I told her so. She had that technician hopping. One fitting on the bottle not working, another was added, and another, and one more if needed. Finally, after about half an hour, seven connectors on the bottle, including an elbow, because the handle was in the way, the bottle got filled. She was a dog on a bone, ‘No’ was not an answer she was familiar with. When the technician said no at every turn, she would come up with another fitting, either replacing one or adding one to the stack.
I had twice left the store to check if Frankline was still there. Uber drivers here are generally okay with waiting as there is a waiting charge, and they don’t burn fuel, but you never know.
The bottle recharge for 6 kg was ZAR 198, and the Uber ZAR 153. Time ZAR 80, Distance ZAR 68, Base Fare ZAR 15, Booking Fee ZAR 7, and Promotion, no idea what that is, ZAR -17. And that all added up to the equivalent of less than ten US dollars.
