We used to have a 1992 Jimny. We sold it because the husband wanted a truck. The husband regrets this. Because my husband gets what he wants when it comes to cars, I bought him a new Jimny. This Jimny.
We packed up the van, drove 9 hours to Baltimore, yelled at people and told them how to do their job, had a beer at Heavy Seas, then drove 10 hours back.
And the husband wanted to take the Miata! I've always had car troubles at port and since this was the first time I could bring tools with me, I came prepared. What I was not prepared for, however, is the disaster that is the Port of Baltimore. Story time. Skip to the second post if you don't want to read about how awesome Baltimore is.
The car arrived Monday. Normally it would be available for pickup immediately but mine got flagged for in inspection due to paperwork issues. I called the port twice a day trying to get a status update but the only response I got (if I got one) was, "I can tell that it has a hold but I don't know what or why." It wasn't until Wednesday afternoon that I got through to someone who could give me the full status. She told me that cars are getting cleared through inspections on their third day at port so statistically mine would be cleared that day or Thursday morning, but no vehicles from my boat had been inspected yet. With a 9 hour drive ahead of me, that was all I needed to start loading the van. As we were pulling out of the garage, I got an email from this insanely helpful port worker saying that my car was the very first vehicle in line from the Hoegh Shanghai and had just cleared the inspection. Excellent! But since the husband took two full hours to get ready, we were quite behind schedule.
The plan had been to rent a campsite in Baltimore and camp in the van, but due to His Royal Highness's royal slowness, we wouldn't get into Baltimore until 90 minutes after the campgrounds close for the night. We somehow managed to book the same La Quinta that we stayed at in 2017 when we picked up the original Jimny. The drive was uneventful. Stayed at the hotel overnight. Cicadas!
Thursday morning we drove to the airport to clear the Customs paperwork. We went to the old Customs office, which is now an abandoned building. The directions to the new location on their website were completely unhelpful and conflicted with the directions from their automated phone system, but long story short you have to pay for airport parking and go to Terminal 5. We were first in line when we arrived but immediately afterward we were joined by a woman trying to clear her belongings that she had shipped from her home in Spain and a family who were unable to get a green card for their daughter because CBP had classified her as cargo instead of a human when they immigrated. The singular employee was being stereotypcal BMV employee and everyone was ready to strangle him. When I got to the window I started collating my not-collated documents, handing each one to him in turn. He watched in silence, then on the third form asked me what I wanted him to do with them. I reiterated that I was trying to clear a vehicle import and he just walked away, leaving the rest of the forms with me. 40 minutes later a different employee calls my name. I hand the rest of the papers through the slot before he can say anything else and he begins chastising me for not providing all of the paperwork upfront. But whatever, he stamps the forms and we're on our way.
The next stop is port. Well, specifically, an escort service that will let us into port. But since the airport is separated from Dundalk by a toll bridge, we ended up driving through downtown Baltimore. I pulled over to call the four escort services to get an address but two told me that they were completely booked through the end of Friday (next opening Monday), one said the TWIC escort was off that day, and the last one. Ooh boy, the last one. Some dude's personal cell phone who said he might be able to get me in at 12:30 (except that the port is closed for lunch from 11:30-1:00 and it is now 11:30) and he asks if I have a delivery order, which is now required. I said I had been provided one and was working to fill it out but I had questions. He tells me that the port does not take handwritten forms so I'd have to find someone to print it for me. I call Hoegh, who provided the blank form, and the representative had some not nice things to say about this TWIC escort and how wrong he is. So he doesn't seem to know what he's doing, but also he never called me back.
So Michael is having a panic attack in the passenger seat of the van while I am on their websites seeing if their online appointment availability matches what I was told over the phone. And for one of them, it didn't. The entire day was available. So I booked us for 1:00 (in 30 minutes) and drove the 150 feet to their address. The secretary couldn't help me with my delivery order questions, but she did tell me that she didn't have me down for an appointment that day. Color me surprised. I showed her my confirmation email and she said she'd just take me there herself. She grabbed her high visibility vest and locked the building, mumbling about how someone had WAY overbooked the escorts today.
She took me to the Hoegh trailer in the port to present my documents and get the keys. I handed the attendant my entire folder because I didn't know what he needed. He took the delivery order, handed back everything else, and wordlessly disappeared. When he returned, he asked me if I had been to Customs yet. The car was not marked as cleared. He had emailed them and was awaiting a response, so I went to tell the escort, who was on the phone. When she finished, she informed me that they, "charge for that email." 10 minutes later I was given the all-clear and she drove me to the Jimny. It started immediately so I didn't need any of the tools that I brought, but the clutch caught just below the floor and wouldn't fully disengage, so driving was a challenge. I affixed my license plate, took it through security leaving the port, and followed the escort's car back to the office. But when we got there, the gate to the parking lot was closed and locked and my husband was on the other side, looking rather annoyed.
Apparently the person who actually had the 1:00 appointment had shown up with an infant and, not having a babysitter handy, toldmy husband to watch this child while they were at port. And for safety reasons I guess, they locked them in the parking lot. It was all very bizarre. But I was sunburnt, approaching heat exhaustion, and frustrated at being 4 hours behind schedule for a 9 hour drive home.
We took the cars around the corner to Fort Holabird to clean them up, check and top off fluids, and snap the opening picture. I got the clutch to at least operate, so we stopped for a celebratory beer at Heavy Seas before hitting the road. We're definitely sticking with Jacksonville for our future imports.
