Mark and I have one propane bottle on Irie. It is an
American-style bottle, the horizontal version (which adds to the filling
difficulties), because a vertical tank didn’t fit anywhere on the boat. We also
have a couple of small, green camping gas bottles as a spare, in case we run
out of propane in a remote area. For years in the Caribbean, it was never a
problem to only have one cooking gas bottle or to have it filled onshore. With
our special adapter, everywhere we turned the bottle in, it came back full, for
a reasonable price. Our 20 pound tank would last between four and five months
of normal use, meaning one cooked meal a day (dinner), some bread baking and
once a week or so a cheap meal ashore. Not drinking tea or coffee conserves
gas, but being in nice anchorages with not much going on, led to lots of baking
and producing special meals. Now that we have to be even more self-sufficient
and eating ashore is unaffordable, it is safe to say that we can live at least
three months off a full propane tank, or better, butane tank, since that is
what is used in these areas.
In the San Blas islands, we learned firsthand about the
gravity fill method for our tank. It was extremely slow and we had to come up
with a way to make it work for our difficult tank, to keep the pin pushed in
while the gas ran from a local tank into ours, without having enough pressure
from the usual filling station. But, it worked. Every time. We made it to the
Galapagos islands with our last fill from there and then in Santa Cruz, the
main town of that marvelous island group in the Pacific, we had our propane
tank filled up again. Before arriving in French Polynesia, we ordered our own
equipment (hose, fitting for the American tank) to gravity fill the tank
ourselves in the future. All we still needed was a small fitting to attach to
the local French Polynesian tanks…
Once we arrived in the Gambier islands and two months into
our available cooking gas, we immediately inquired about the fitting we needed,
only to find out that nobody sold – or even had – anything like that in
Rikitea, the only real town. They had regulators, but that would not do the
trick. Hmmm… Not yet desperate, we
cooked along for another month and when an opportunity arose to split some
expensive butane gas with two other cruisers, we returned to Rikitea to join
the gravity fill party. With the help of our American fitting and hose and a
borrowed “French” fitting, three sailboats had gas again. The whole ordeal took
about three hours and our tank was only about ¾ full after we finished. 
The chase for our own local fitting continued –
unsuccessfully – in Fatu Hiva, the Marquesas. Luckily, we had enough butane to
make it to Atuona, the “capital” of the southern Marquesas, where we expected
to find what we needed. Nope! The hardware store was “out of” them, but they
“could be” on the next cargo ship into town, the Aranui III, three days later -
make it four to get everything stocked in the stores… That was the reason Mark
and I stayed over a week in the murky waters of the inconveniently located bay
around a peninsula from Atuona, struggling with two anchors and rainy weather.
The Aranui arrived… without gas bottle fittings. Over two months into this ¾
(we thought) filled bottle, a solution needed to come up soon.
The (temporary) solution arrived in the form of cruising
friends who were in Tahiti and asked us whether we needed anything from the big
city. After seven months of leaving Panama City, provisioning and marine store
“headquarters”, we could use a whole lot of things by now, but what we really
needed – you guessed it - was one of those French fittings. Surely, they would have them in Pape’ete, the
country’s bustling capital! Instead, our friends sent us their self-assembled
gas bottle hose, which we could borrow until they joined us in the Marquesas.
Luckily for us, the package showed up after only ten days, and we managed to
pick it up in Atuona shortly after. Exactly five days later, back in an
uninhabited bay in Tahuata, we ran out of cooking gas. Our tank was totally
empty.
One night, Ursula cooked for us and we had a wonderful
dinner on SV Kril; the following night, we used one of our spare gas bottles
and then it was time to move anchorages. We sailed to Hanatefau, a quiet bay
close to the village of Hapatoni, where we expected to find a butane tank to
fill ours. A quick chat with our neighbors revealed that there was no butane
and not much of anything in Hapatoni. Darn! In the past, we had visited Vaitahu
by dinghy, where we had seen racks of butane bottles in front of the two
grocery stores. This town was located
between our recent and our previous anchorage, a distance doable by dinghy. We
decided to go for it, rechecking a few times whether we packed all the tools
and materials necessary for a gravity fill on shore and braving the ocean for
1,5 miles.
It was Friday afternoon, almost weekend, a little bit of a
risky time to do what we had set out for. The biggest supermarket was open. I
asked about the butane tanks, and how much the gas cost. Mark started to set up
our tank and the fittings. Then, the woman – who was smoking – yelled over…
they did not have any butane anymore. All the tanks in the rack were empty. Our
only other chance was the second little store in town. It was closed. It was
2pm already. It would open soon… Half an hour later, the proprietor decided to
return after an elongated lunch break.
But, she was out of butane as well. As a matter of fact, there was no
butane to be found in the whole village, or the whole island. That’s when we
learned that the locals reserve their tanks for whenever the cargo ship – the
Taporo - arrived.
We really did not want to motor back to Atuona. We had a
problem… We returned to the first store (maybe the woman wasn’t sure she was
out of butane bottles?) and I pleaded with her, explaining our predicament and
hoping for a solution. That’s when she went into the bakery section of the
store and unhooked her own butane bottle from a stove. She didn’t know how much
gas was left in it, but we were welcome to transport the contents into our own
bottle. Worried about any danger so close to her store, she urged a customer to
drop us off at the jetty with all our tanks and equipment. On some steps in the
shade, we installed the two tanks and ourselves and started the excruciatingly
slow and tedious process of filling our stubborn tank. After a few tries we had
the gas flowing at a gracious speed of a few drops per minute. While being
eaten alive by mosquitoes and nonos, we waited and waited, hoping that the
store would not close before we were done. Two and a half hours later, the
local tank was empty and our tank felt about half full….
Upon returning her bottle to the store and wanting to give
her money for the gas, the friendly owner refused any payment. I made sure to
buy some over-priced items before joining Mark back at our dinghy. With a
little sense of accomplishment – trying not to think about having to go through
this whole ordeal again in less than two months – we slowly motored back to
Irie, while the sun was setting at the horizon. How enjoyable it was to cook, and
especially eat, a super tasty meal – using all three burners – that evening!
Tahuata's south coast at sunset
On the way back home with half a butane tank
Sunset from Hanatefau - Home before dark!
