Disconnected (Horrible things that nobody tells you about boat life part 2)
Bank employee: “My colleague will give you a call on the number we have in our system.”
Me: “He cannot call me on that number.”
Bank employee: “Why not? Don’t you have your own mobile phone with you?”
Me: “Yes, but on that number you can only call me through WhatsApp. For regular telephone calls we’ve got a local sim card.”
Bank employee: “My colleague will contact you on the number we have in our system. I cannot do anything else for you at the moment.”
…. Blank screen….
I’m chatting with my bank at home through their app. For some reason they’ve decided to replace credit cards of all their clients before the expiry date. In my case FAR before the expiry date. Now for ‘normal’ people this might not cause any serious problems. You get a notification, they send you a new card, you activate it and destroy the old one. Easy does it, case closed.
Not in our case. Replacing bank cards, credit cards and other client cards was pretty high on our long, never-ending list of things to do before we left. Only for one reason: prevent me from having these conversations with bank employees or any other employee for that matter. I wanted cards that didn’t expire before 2023 and I got them!
But still here I am, at 9 in the morning in French Polynesia, 9 pm back home and their helpdesk is about to close. I started to chat at 5.45 am (!) because I already foresaw a long customer journey through the channels, depths and bowels of the banking system.
More than 3 hours later I still haven’t succeeded in my quest to find somebody who can help me either stopping these cards from being prematurely replaced OR sending new ones within a couple of days to a friend who will be visiting us.
I know I’m not supposed to, and it will not help one bit for sure, but nevertheless I can’t stop myself from cursing, growling, grumbling and moping around until Tjaart hands me a mug of coffee. That helps! And in all my despair, powerlesness and grumpiness, I suddenly see a glimmer of hope. “I need somebody with two phones,” I’m thinking to myself and I call my brother, through WhatsApp obviously.
The idea is to have me from French Polynesia on phone 1, through WhatsApp call. My brother then calls the bank from phone 2. He’ll introduce himself and me, will put phone 1 and phone 2 next to each other on the table, on speaker, and let me talk to the employee.
And so it goes. The guy lets me explain and asks me all sorts of security questions to assure himself it’s reallyMariska Johanna Maria Woertman from Texel, born in Hellendoorn on 25-12-1972 he’s dealing with. So far so good, my blood pressure drops a few points.
But then the employee drops the bomb: “Let me see whatI can do for you. For security reasons I’M GONNA HAVE TO CALL YOU BACK ON THE NUMBER WE HAVE IN OUR SYSTEM.”
The guy hasn’t even finished talking before I know that this is not gonna end well. I tell him that he can’t, he says there’s no other way, I beg, he insists and then I ask for his manager. “There’s nothing more that I can do for you, “ he says and disconnects the line. I’m speechless. Flabbergasted. The guy just hung up on me!
We have no time to waste, it’s almost 10 pm, the helpdesk is about to close. So my brother and I come up with a new plan. There must be more helpdesk employees than this one, so we do the whole thing over again. With one difference: my brother doesn’t talk. He just dials the bank number, puts both phones on speaker on the table and lets me do the talking. The fact that I may sound a bit ‘distant’ is easy to explain, calling from halfway around the world.
“Good evening, Rabobank helpdesk, this is Wilco speaking. How may I help you?” Ok, there we go. I do the whole thing over again: am sailing – in French Polynesia – need the new credit cards (if you insist on having them replaced) – please send them to our friend visiting us – oh yes please include the new pin numbers – oh and before you ask you can’t call me back on the number you have in your system – we work with a local sim card.”
…….silence……
“Wow, so you’re actually sailing around the world? That’s always been a dream of mine. I understand your issue, can I verify your story?” I’m already thanking God on my bare knees for this guy and tell him to visit zouterik.com. “Ah yes I see, let me see what I can do.” After a few questions back and forth, he tells me that he needs to discuss with his manager. Yes! I’m starting to see light at the end of the tunnel.
After a few minutes he comes back with good news. He can and will help me. All I need to do is send him a handwritten letter that explains the whole situation, with my signature and a copy of my passport THROUGH MY EMAIL ADDRESS THEY HAVE IN THEIR SYSTEM.
I can do that! I cannot thank the guy enough, get right to writing this letter and sending it over to the bank.
Happy ending? Not quite!
The next morning when I wake up, I have an email in my inbox. A bank employee confirms having received my email (yes!) but asks for confirmation whether I’m really really really sure that I want to take the risk to send my credit cards and pin numbers to a friend. “Because you are taking a huge risk.”
Aaaaaaaaah!!! With my head still sleepy and without my reading glasses I manage to type: “If I wouldn’t have taken risks, I wouldn’t be on a sailing yacht in French Polynesia right now! So please, put the credit cards in an envelope and SEND THEM! We have yet lost another day!”
I cannot believe what I’m reading! If the envelope arrives on time and our friend manages to bring it to Tahiti, I will send Wilco at the bank a bunch of flowers. But for now, as I click the send button for the email on my phone, I’m disconnecting with Rabobank.
……silence…..
