Southern Coast of the Dominican Republic

El Toro sculpture in Santa Domingo's square

[PLEASE FORGIVE THIS LONG POST, BUT THE DR IS A VERY LONG ISLAND!]

So we took a “ride” to the Dominican Republic.  Actually, we did enjoy enough wind to sail once we reached the southeastern coast of this vast island.  This portion of our float plan was the first time we would be voyaging without paper charts.  No worries, though, as s/v Exit Strategy carries an assortment of new-fangled electronic charts, such as on our Raymarine chart plotter, both laptops, the IPad, the Tab 3, and the latest versions of Frank Virgintino’s FREE Cruising Guides for the Caribbean we would cover.

Marina Zar-Par in the background

The public beach is packed on weekends.

   
BOCA CHICA- We chose Boca Chica as our first port of call because it is located midway on the coast and we knew we could leave our boat safely and tour from there. At the Marina Zar-Par we experienced our first of many Customs & Immigration procedures AND the truly pleasant nature of the island’s people. Staff at the marina waved us to the fuel dock so the customs officer and his entourage could easily board our vessel. Four men, plus Rigo, the Dock Master (who spoke English), stepped into our cockpit.  Rigo translated for us as necessito, but they threw an awful lot of Espanol around before Rigo offered us a simple summary.  One agent conducted a rudimentary search of the vessel, looking in most all the stowage areas.  The paperwork was completed on board and then they escorted Dan off the boat to their office. Rigo said that I had to stay on the boat.  Dan returned shortly after paying the clearance fees which included  the customary “propinas” (tips) for each official.

We spoke at length with Frank Virgintino. (far back in center)

Ceiling of the DR's Government Mausoleum in Santo Domingo

     
We walked the coast just east of the marina passing first the public beach where care is taken  daily to attempt to clear the litter, with weak results as the breeze easily tosses paper and plastic about. Then you get to the sands in the resort section and what a difference, as there are trash cans to keep refuse in its place. We found throngs of beach vendors around the resorts, who do take a polite “No, gracias” for an answer.  One can get a massage, a pedicure or manicure, hats, sunglasses, fresh fruit, ice cream, inflatable beach toys, huge paintings, T-shirts, jewelry, cold drinks.  Along the streets in Boca Chica one can get more than a massage day or night. We also sighted our first whales of the season- sunburned, lounging in chairs and speaking a variety of tongues possibly from the Mediterranean region.

Rigo served as our shopping guide/translator.

Larimar (Google Image)

      
One day we joined another American cruising couple to tour Santo Domingo, the capitol city. We had a splendid time with Barbara and Ted (s/v Rosa Dos Ventos) shopping, lunching, and taking a historical walking tour.  The jewel of the Dominican Republic is a stone called Larimar that was discovered on a beach here a few hundred years ago and only began being sought as a gem in 1974. It is still mined today and crafted into some quite exquisite pieces.  The problem is- EVERYONE here wants to sell you some.  Having a multitude of shop keepers trying to entice you to purchase Larimar from their case can be a daunting task. (Been there….done that.)

Boys will be boys.

Guarding the Mausoleum

   
LA SALINAS- as the name implies, this port has some heavy duty salt ponds behind a few nice resorts.  Mr. Virgintino said that we could get a despacho from here to leave the DR, however, we quickly found out that you can’t get there from here. By the time we anchored in La Salinas, it was nearly six-thirty in the evening, so we thought we’d go into customs first thing in the morning. But Dan noticed a man was standing on the dock whistling and waving frantically at us.  So he hurried to lower the dinghy from the davits and attach the motor.  At the dock, the customs agent spoke no English but somehow made it clear that we could NOT get a despacho to leave the DR in La Salinas.  He would, however, give us a despacho to go get one in Barahona if Dan met him on that same dock at 8 AM the next morning.  

 

         
Dinner ashore was wonderfully filling, mainly because we mistakenly ordered three entrees. We thought the calamari was just an appetizer because it cost the equivalent of $8 US (350 RD), while the lobster platters were each priced at 700 RD (about $16 US).  Once again, the waitress kept looking at ME to translate for Dan because she didn’t speak English.  By this date, I had plenty of Duolingo lessons under my belt and had already muddled our way through one and a half Spanish speaking islands, so one would think I would have a better command of the language…

Barahona's waterfront was picturesque.

SANTA CRUZ DE BARAHONA- Although we were both annoyed to add another stop in the DR, Dan spotted a whale and her calf briefly while en route there. I suggested that sending us this way was a blessing in disguise.   Soon after we anchored, we heard a person calling to us from the shore who indicated that the officials were across the bay at a marina dock trying to get our attention. (Here we go again…)  We dinghied to the marina dock and four non-English speaking men climbed into the dinghy so we could take them back to the boat.  We asked for a despacho to leave at 5AM the next morning, hoping they would let us have one that evening.  But, NO-O-O.  Dan was told to come into the office at 6 AM the next morning.  He set the alarm and got there in plenty of time only to learn that the agent still needed to come back to the boat to inspect it!  This time only two men came and one attempted to speak English to us by s-l-o-w-l-y speaking Spanish! (So OK, I did get more meaning from some of the words as he employed that particular technique.)  He gave us a despacho and Dan gave them a generous propina before taking them back to the dock.  Upon his return, Dan commented to me about the unusual way Dominicans spell JAMAICA – "Allemane".  On closer inspection we saw that it was NOT our despacho!  Dan sped back to the custom’s office to secure the correct despacho and we managed to leave by around eight o’clock- a mere three hours later than we had liked.

ISLA BEATA-  Upon leaving Barahona it was necessary for us to dodge jug fishing lines for the first two hours. Spacing themselves about a quarter mile apart, we passed about thirty fishermen who stood in their small boats to watch for a moving jug that indicated a catch.  Many smiled and waved, but a few with larger outboards yelled at us and gestured a safe route around their lines.  We ran over two lines while working our way through the maze.  Later, when we set out our own pole, we snagged a colorful mahi mahi that jumped free about twenty feet off the stern.

 

Everyone said, “You’ve got to make a rest stop at Isla Beata.  It’s so beautiful!”    We were SO looking forward to a quiet, clear, unencumbered anchorage.  Imagine our utter surprise when we rounded the point to enter the anchorage only to see a fleet of small fishing boats lining the shore and as many shanties under the trees on the beach.  Once anchored, we both donned our snorkel gear as Dan needed to clear fishing line from the propeller and I needed to check the anchor.  Minutes later, we saw a boat with three men making its way toward us.  Two of them boarded our vessel and the only English they spoke was “Coca Cola” and “Passports”.  We were shocked that we would have to go through the clearance procedure again.  The cruising guide and those who recommended Isla Beata said NOTHING about this.  Dan was so shaken, he could barely speak.  I went below to get our despacho while he tried to explain that we were only stopping to fix the fouled prop and rest- two acceptable excuses to use when stopping somewhere without a specific despacho, according to Mr. Virgintino.  One official reviewed the despacho and made notes in his notebook and another kept saying something about pescado (fish).  Finally, they pointed to Dan and gestured that he had to go ashore with them and made it clear that I must remain on the boat.  As Dan gathered his official papers to leave, I handed him our Spanish-English Dictionary.  Less than an hour later, they brought Dan back. He was all smiles as he hoisted a large black plastic bag onto the deck and cordially bid the men farewell saying, “Gracias amigos, adios!”  The bag held eight pounds of fresh snapper.  It seems that they were not customs agents after all, but merely islanders who wanted to welcome us and sell us some fish at a great price.  That night we had a grilled snapper dinner, froze two other meals worth, and I minced up some for ceviche we could eat during the next 130 mile leg of our journey.

Full moon rising over Isla Beata