Check-In Checklist: Clearing Into A Foreign Port

Sailing Vessel Hanalei has barely crossed the equator, but the southern hemisphere already feels cooler. After five hot days on passage, we’ve reached our Ecuadorean port of entry, Salinas. A misty breeze ripples our yellow “Q” flag. Q stands for quarantine. It means we aren’t really here yet, not officially.

We tie up to the quarantine buoy and I gather my papers in a waterproof binder. Formalities by any name–check-in, clearing in, Customs and Immigration–always involves paperwork. Lots.

Before we cleared out of Panama, I researched Ecuador’s entry requirements. Noonsite, a clearinghouse of international cruising information, provides the rules for every country with a port. I read their guidelines and first-person updates from other cruisers. A few captains mentioned misplaced or incorrect Customs paperwork that led to fines. My cruising club, the Seven Seas Cruising Association (SSCA). also reported anomalies. Otherwise, the rules sounded familiar.

I’m ready to dinghy to the office. Then I’m ready to get some sleep.

What You’ll Need

•      Crew lists – Every official seems to need a crew list that provides our names, birth dates and passport information. I carry three copies in English and Spanish.

• Boat Registration – I’ve made extra copies of our boat registration. The marina, Port Captain, and Customs will each want a copy.

•      Passports – I take all three of our passports. Immigration will check their validity and give us entry stamps, the same as if we arrived by plane. There’s usually a small charge for a visa.

•      Port Clearance –The Salinas Capitanía, run by the Navy, oversees all marine activities in its zone. They’ll need to see our port clearance, or zarpe (zár-pay), permission to leave issued by the Port Captain at our last port of call. That’s standard check-in procedure on a boat. They’ll ask where we plan to go next. Ecuador does not issue Cruising Permits as most countries do. Instead, the Port Captain issues a national zarpe to navigate to a different zone, like Manta or Galápagos. When we clear out, the Capitanía will issue our international zarpe.

•      Health -  The Ministry of Health requires proof of Yellow Fever vaccination for crew under the age of 65. In some countries, like Cuba, a doctor visits the boat, too. A negative COVID-19 test result is now required either done at your last port or immediately on arrival. You’ll quarantine until you have results.

•      Customs – SV Hanalei’s Customs declaration is more or less the same idea as luggage inspection at airport customs. That is, if you usually carry electronics, a dinghy, engine, firearms, and contraband in your suitcase. I keep printed data sheets for reference to avoid trips back to the boat.

•     Temporary Import (Customs) –  SV Hanalei is a vehicle, an object of value subject to taxation. As our personal property, she can be imported without tax up to one year, a sort of visa for the boat. Ecuadorean Customs will issue her temporary import document, called a DJT. All they need is an up-to-date boat registration and my stamped passport.

Mistakes Are Made

Ecuador’s forms are complicated, more about freighters and cruise ships than sailboats. Tired from the passage, landfall and filling out forms, I agree to let PLYC’s facilitator, Diana Jose, manage our paperwork. For $150, she’ll arrange formalities with Health, Immigration, Customs and the Port Captain. A shipping agent would charge between $250 and $500, a sliding scale based on slipperiness.

We’ll need permission to keep the boat here for six months while we explore Ecuador by land, then go home for the summer. She says no problem.

I don’t notice that I’ve given her an expired boat registration. She doesn’t notice, either. Nor does Customs.

But when I pick up our DJT, it’s only good for ninety days. There’s been a mistake. Diana says no worries, we can request up to three extensions (prórrogas). I file for one on the spot.

Now that we’re official, Karolien replaces the “Q” flag with an Ecuadorean courtesy flag.

She catches her next ride, a Belgian-flagged boat bound for French Polynesia.

For some reason, I’m supposed to pick up the DJT extension at a nearby mall. I meet a couple of men, Frick and Frack out of uniform, who flash their IDs and charge me $100.

I pay them. What can I say? I’m fresh off the boat.

We haul out SV Hanalei on PLYC’s 50-ton TraveLift and move her to the hardstand. She’ll be safe here while we travel

We’ll be back in October to resume our trip to Chile and Cape Horn.

Fair winds,

Christine

Do tell!

Have you taken your boat to a foreign country? What happened when you checked in?