The Things You Do For L*O*V*E

First horse he's ridden in about 15 years

Last week, ideal weather was forecast for our journey southward to Curacao where we plan to spend hurricane season 2014.  The day before we were going to leave, new cruiser friends of ours, Mike and Cate of s/v Horizon, pulled into Boca Chica.  We were happy to reconnect with them and my Captain proposed that we stay put longer since we still had plenty of time to go south. I agreed to delay our departure on the condition that we get off the boat and tour more of the island.
   
The Captain doesn’t like to drive in the islands mainly because the locals maneuver their vehicles like maniacs. Never the less, we rented a compact car for a few days and he braved the roads with one hand firmly on the horn, as is customary in the DR. (He loves me.) I was co-pilot with a map in my lap.

El Salto de Jimenoa

The first day we headed toward the mountainous town of Jarabacoa. The ride there was interesting with small stationary vendor stands along the highway and mobile vendors at every stoplight. Jarabacoa was more touristy that expected and we took in the sites of El Salto de Jimenoa and La Confluencia after having lunch. It rained quite a bit that day, so when we took an alternate route back there was debris on the road from landslides in several places. That route also went through a small town full of greenhouse after greenhouse that produce flowers for the florist industry worldwide.

After the rain on the mountain highway

   
The next day Cate and Mike joined us to drive up to Samana, a peninsula on the east coast of the DR. I was co-pilot again, but this time I got distracted by the conversations and somehow we missed a turn in the first twenty minutes. That mistake took us into the capital city of Santo Domingo AND its bumper to bumper traffic. The Captain was not happy. (He loves me not.) While stopped in traffic, I asked a uniformed person (police?) if we had missed our turn. He indicated that it was behind us and began to direct the cars behind us to back up so we could back up to exit! But just then the cars in front of us moved forward, so the Captain pressed on.

The paved road before the rutted dirt road at the dump

Approximately two hours later we had turned around and were near the correct exit.  I didn’t dare miss it again, so we turned at the first sign for San Isidro where the route we needed intersected the highway. (Wrong.)  At this point, with four college educated adults in the car, Mike asked if we wanted to use their cell’s GPS. (Duh.) We all breathed a deep sigh of relief upon hearing the assuring automated voice. Unfortunately, that moment was short-lived and our stress quickly returned when we realized that there were no roads on which to turn given by the GPS prompter. (“Recalculating…”)To make matters worse, many of the roads in that area were dirt and deeply potholed.  At one point, the GPS directed us to turn onto a road that appeared to be a huge garbage dump, “Turn right and proceed for three kilometers.”  The Captain turned left and somehow we finally made our way to the highway that lead to Samana.

El Limon

Our goal in Samana was to hike to the El Limon Waterfall which was located easily thanks to ample signage in this ultra touristy area.  When we were nearly there, Ramon pulled along side our car in moving traffic to insist that he’d show us the way.  We wanted to walk to the falls, but after an exasperating discussion with Ramon in half English-half Spanish they put us on horses with individual handler-guides and off we went. I’m fine in the saddle, but the Captain, although experienced, was reluctant. (He loves me.)  Mike and Cate were ready and willing for adventure. It was after all, a memorable excursion- one we’ll no doubt laugh about for years- and the falls were a powerful site, but muddy from the recent rains.

Los Cuatro Amigos

Easting: It Is What It Is

Weekend at the beach in Punta Cana, DR

We are sailing cruisers.  We prefer to sail whenever we can. We planned to spend hurricane season in Curacao this year and needed to return to a point further east to get a better angle on the wind to head south. Unfortunately, when in Jamaica- the heart of the Greater Antilles- sailing is more often than not impractical when heading back east.

In the remote folds of my gray matter, I believe it was some noted philosopher who first stated, “It is what it is.”  However, I know for a fact, that our lifelong friend Jim gets full credit for this phrase being forever branded on my psyche. Jim has a unique way of delivering it with a sort of Ebonic dialect that evokes laughter from us. Perhaps that is why it has stuck with me. This phrase was our mantra as we plowed our way eastward after a long and lovely cruise to Jamaica’s west coast. We were not laughing though. Easting: It is what it is.

Our dear friends Jim and his lovely wife, Barb

Like all cruisers, we listen to the marine weather reports daily on our SSB radio and study weather charts online when available. When you are retired, as we are, you can afford to wait for a good opportunity to sail unless you have some sort of deadline, such as getting your vessel out of the hurricane belt before June 1. So you are in Jamaica in mid April and you would like to be in Curacao by June 1. That allows about six weeks to get there. (No problem, mon, plenty time.) But you know part of your family (that includes two of your grandkids) will be in Punta Cana, DR in early May and wouldn’t it be GREAT to be with them on Mother’s Day?  (YES!)  Now you have two weeks to get to a particular destination.

There is nothing more frustrating to the captain and crew than a brisk wind coming from the wrong direction.  On good days, the wind was ever so slightly blowing from the North-Northeast or Southeast to ease Exit Strategy in the right direction. On other days, we were surprised with no wind at all, so we motored. Sometimes we were seduced into hoisting the sails and thinking we could zigzag our way along the course, but found that we’d have to sail way off course. So we ended up motoring about two-thirds of the time.           It is what it is. 

Raft Trip on the Rio Grand near Portland, Jamaica 

Vilna and Dou Dou's trois juene filles, Ile a Vache, Haiti 

In retrospect, we made the best of it- stopping a few times along Jamaica’s northern coast and also resting at Ile a Vache, Haiti to visit friends. We arrived in Boca Chica, DR in plenty of time to rent a car and meet part of the family in Punta Cana for the weekend. It was such a treat to spend time with them AND stay in an all-inclusive resort and sleep on real beds!  It is what it is.  AND it was WONDERFUL!

Shuffle Board with Bobby, Lyla, and Aslan

Gaming with Joy, Aslan, and Lyla

Our Grandkids Part 2: Maya & Genna-WEE JAMMIN Cruise

So far this season, Captain Dan and I ventured all the way to Jamaica (mon) on board Exit Strategy. Recently, our daughter Becky’s family flew into Montego Bay to join us. The WEE JAMMIN Cruise itinerary was filled with laughter, fun in the sun, sand, snorkeling, hiking, and mostly motor sailing in the absence of ample wind.   The highlights follow.

Grandpa cheesing with the girls...

This burial on the beach in Montego Bay was the only time they let me lay down for a rest.

   


Both Genna and Maya loved jumping off the boat. (Here we were anchored at Lucea.)

We hiked up Mayfield Falls one day.

   

Sitting along side one of the many pools at Mayfield Falls

Jeff and Becky

       

The girls and I did tattoos one afternoon.

The caves at Push Cart Restaurant in West End.

  

Ar-r-r-r-r!

Maya got dreads on the beach at Bloody Bay near Negril.

  

Our Grandkids Part 1: Aslan and Lyla

We have been able to sail to St. Croix to spend the holidays with our son Bob’s family since moving on to the boat and it always makes our Christmas very special.  I tried to post this photo essay months ago, but got frustrated when the internet connection failed repeatedly.  Hope this works today…


We play loads of games on board.  Lyla's favorite is Connect 4.  Aslan's is Checkers.

Aslan was often in the lead as we hiked the Caledonia Trail up to the waterfall
 in St. Croix's northwest region.

   


The toothfairy has been working overtime...

Bob and Joy with children on rocky shore north of Carambola Resort

   


From the resort, we hiked through the woods and along a rugged shore ...

...that ended at a huge tidal pool complete with waterfalls.

   


Lyla found a pirates map along the beach.

Aslan and Lyla let Babcia and Grandpa rest just long enough for a photo.

      

ILE A VACHE, HAITI

The view from our boat was tranquil.

Thanks to St. Vincent and the Grenadines, we have extensive experience with “boat boys”.  However, the boat boys in the bay at Port Morgan, Ile a Vache were in a class all their own.  Instead of focusing on selling cruisers like us some useless tourist trinkets, these lads were primarily intent on selling their services to clean, polish, guide or do anything else a boater may need.  Before our anchor was lowered, three pirogues were quickly paddling toward Exit Strategy. These small canoes, carved out of mango wood, appear to leak profusely and are usually manned by two, so one person can keep baling.  We motioned for them to back off and allow us time to set the hook and they obliged. Creole is the official language of Haiti, so we were pleasantly surprised to find that many of the children speak English.  In school they either learn English or French as a second language.  In a blink, about a dozen other pirogues made their way out to greet us and each one politely explained their particular service. We were fatigued from our 140 mile trip and sounded like a broken record- “No, merci, nothing today.”  Another half dozen or so skiffs manned by adults greeted us during the next few hours and we booked dinner with two of them. One policeman came to collect a $5 US anchoring fee.  After a quiet meal, we drifted off to a sound sleep in the clear still waters of the bay.

This boat boy offered to sell us a puppy since we
had no work for him.  Another sang to us in Creole.

This pirogue was a delux model.

      

At sunrise, sweet birdsong harmonized with passing fishermen singing as they poled their goose-winged sailboats out of the bay. Later that morning, we bought a few hours of internet time using a Hotspot from one of the islands entrepreneurial teens. He gave us a price of $3 US/hr. and we bargained it down to $2.50/hr. (The exchange rate is 43 Gourdes: $1 US, but on Ile a Vache they use the rate of 40 Gourdes: $1 US.) We also made arrangements with another teen for him to go and buy some Haitian beer on the mainland and bring us the change in US dollars.  That afternoon we took a walk around the Port Morgan Hotel and down the dirt road (no pavement on island) into the village.  There were groups of locals and school children milling around various food/drink/snack stands during their lunch break, but no restaurants or stores were in sight.

Part of Port Morgan Hotel

   

That evening we dinghied across the bay to have dinner at Jean Jean’s. Our spoken menu choice was chicken or conch, so we ordered one of each the day before.  Mounds of food were served family style to just the two of us.  Six other patrons had dinner there that night and were served in a similar manner.  Our tab for the meal that included drinks was $26 US.

The main road to the village

These horses are small, but they pack a lot, including people.

     

There is a market twice a week in the village of Madame Bernard that is a few miles away from Port Morgan.  We had one teen guide us their via our dinghy, as we also wanted to drop off a donation of goods at St. Francois d’ Assises School and Orphanage.  We found the market loosely organized and found what we wanted to buy when our guide Cezar led us through the maze of stalls.  They sold much more than fresh fruit and vegetables there (average cost of a half dozen of anything was 25 Gourdes or about $.60 US). Some vendors had clothing, others had paper goods, and while still others sold drug store items like shampoos, lotions, and over the counter medication. We even saw a steer being hacked up on a large table in the full sun.

Recess!

I thought this little guy was sleeping, but he gave me a
huge sweet smile when I touched his arm and spoke to him.

    

Up the hill from the market is where one can find the Centre d’Accueil St. Francois d’Assises.  Sr. Flora, a petit Canadian nun, runs the orphanage that houses 70 children, 25 of which are severely handicapped.  We stopped to leave a donation of goods and to see the children, although we did not meet Sr. Flora because she was in New York seeking charitable contributions. 

 

That evening we had arranged for Dou Dou and his wife Vilna to prepare and bring us a traditional Haitian meal for $10 US per person. Dou Dou and Vilna are soft spoken individuals and handed us a flyer written in English to explain their dinner plan because they don’t know much English.  When they arrived in their pirogue, I took their Dutch oven-sized pot and three plastic containers below to transfer the food into our pots and pans.  While doing so, I saw there was way too much food for just Dan and me.  So I asked them in as much French as I could muster if they would like to eat dinner WITH us.  They looked surprised, but happily accepted.  We had the BEST time visiting with them and I think they enjoyed the multicultural and lingual experience as much as we did.  In fact, they invited us to come and eat at their home the next time we visit the island and we certainly will!

Notre amis, Dou Dou and Vilna

Prior to visiting Ile a Vache, we had the impression that the islanders were quite poor from what we had read in various publications.  However, after touring part of the island and interacting with some of the people, we found them far less needy than expected. The children and people were clean, smartly dressed, and appeared well-nourished.  Some of the teens had cell phones and IPods.  Yes, the boat boys want to earn money, but they do not beg for food or money.  There are no cars on Ile a Vache, but they do walk, and ride bikes or horses.  Electricity is not widespread because there is no power plant and it is not cabled over from the mainland.  They have access to good water, as we witnessed many youngsters carrying jugs home from the village well, but don’t have running water because it is not piped throughout the island.  We never once smelled sewage as often occurs in other more developed islands. Their land is fertile enough to grow fresh fruit and vegetables and raise livestock.  Circumstances on Ile a Vache allow them to live a simpler life than the average foreigner visitor.  And that is somewhat of a blessing.

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