Destination DR

Continuing our south by north strategy, we skirted past the coral heads east and north of our anchorage off Ambergris Cay around Fish Cay and into the deep water of the Columbus Passage mid morning on April 13. This was our second attempt to wend our way through the treacherous coral heads around Ambergris. The morning before we found ourselves dodging coral heads, getting off course and narrow escaping a bad end. Discretion and exhaustion led us back through the coral maze in which we had found ourselves to our previous anchorage and our new found friends, Robin and Diana on S/V Solveig. The core value in cruising being flexibility, we cast off our frayed plan and took advantage of the situation at hand. Circumstances and bad navigation prevented our intended departure but provided the opportunity for a delightful evening of good food and wonderful conversation on Solveig. Robin, a retired CERN nuclear physicist and Diana, a former British spy, proved to be entertaining and gracious hosts as we dined well and held forth on a variety of topics with intelligence and insight. In other words, we agreed on just about everything.

Like the New Zealanders, they were also a part of the band of Southbounders we had met in George Town. They had originally planned to reach Trinidad, but their plans changed when their bottom paint began peeling off in large sheets from their steel hulled sloop. Apparently, when the boat yard in Ft. Lauderdale painted the bottom earlier in the year, the temperature was so cold the paint never cured properly, meaning that it had to be done over. So, instead of continuing south, they were spending the next couple of weeks in the Turks and Caicos. They would haul the boat in Provo and have the bottom painted and leave the boat there, on the hard, during hurricane season and return home to the UK. In the meantime they would explore the beautiful and relatively unspoiled Turks and Caicos.

After sailing several hours north to avoid the coral reefs, we finally turned south, southeast toward Luperon, on the north coast of the Dominican Republic. With an east and east southeast wind of 16-20 knots, we were able to sail and motor sail pretty much in the desired direction. We made as much easterly as we could, knowing that the wind would back to the southeast. Again we had a current working against us. Still, in great weather and 2-4' seas, we had as fine a passage as could be expected. Sailing all night in a tunnel of darkness, we emerged in the morning to see the hazy mountains of the Dominican Republic. On a dying wind and flat seas, we headed for the Luperon inlet watching dolphins lazily feeding just ahead. The entrance was fairly easy to spot. We identified what the chart called a “conspicuous house” just west of the mouth of the inlet. With a waypoint, a heading and using a distinctive mountain profile as a range, we slowly proceeded into the harbor. The water is deep almost to shore and the cruising guide provided excellent directions. The murky inlet water gave no clue as to depth, but we easily made our way into this very protected anchorage. As we passed M/T Essential Parts, Tom, the captain came out on deck to provide good advice regarding anchoring. While the harbor is generally deep, there are a few very shallow spots that aren't obvious. Just as we dropped anchor, we heard a friendly, “Hola, excellente (referencing our anchoring skills)!” Papo, motored alongside. He explained in a mix of Spanish and English that he can supply us with whatever we need. We call him the (gun toting) 'consegliere' of the harbor. We have called him when we needed anything from drinking water to diesel fuel. He comes right out with whatever you want, which is good, because there is no marina into which you can go to fuel up. He called the “Comandante” on the radio to inform him of our arrival and explained that we should wait to be boarded and cleared, but if after several hours no one came out, we could head into the government dock and proceed to the Aduana.

We cleaned up the boat as we waited...and waited...and waited. Three hours later, still no Comandante In the DR, the naval Comandante often has no access to a boat. Therefore, he has to get a ride with someone. The vessel being cleared is expected to help pay for the gas. That may explain the delay. Tired of waiting and hungry, we lowered the dinghy and headed to shore, walked to the Aduana and began the process of clearing in. Many cruisers have decried cruising in the DR, complaining of bribe taking and confusing, changing requirements. Our experience doesn't support those complaints. Even with our poor command of Spanish, the officials patiently worked through the minimal paperwork, insisted on providing receipts for each transaction and even let us get lunch in town while waiting for the Comandante and the Agricultural inspector to be available.

Back on the boat and two hours later, the navy ties up alongside with ½ dozen men, including an agricultural inspector. One man in street shoes, removes them before boarding to avoid marking up the deck. The whole process goes smoothly and I offer, but must insist upon, a couple of dollars to defray the cost of gas. I believe, based on our experience, that as tourism has increased in the DR, the government has taken steps to reduce the incidence of bribe taking and standardize the process. We ended up paying about $130 US to enter and received receipts for everything, except the gas money. Reputation, language and ignorance often create unwarranted suspicions. We met an American couple from Texas who believed the fees were outrageous and worried that they had been cheated. They pointed to a schedule of fees and exclaimed that the $350 per person fee until we pointed out that the prices were in pesos, not dollars and equivalent to about $10 US.

Luperon, a small, rural, town, 2 hours from the nearest airport and not far from Haiti, sits on the shore of one of the most protected harbors in the Eastern Caribbean. Surrounded by mountains and protected from the sea by a dogleg inlet, no safer spot could be found. Mangrove trees line the harbor providing both a soft landing for any boat that goes adrift as well. They also offer a means to secure lines to shore in the event of a storm. The town itself consists of 2 primary streets that converge at the dock. Goats, dogs and chickens compete with cars, burros, and 'motoconchos' (small motorcycles that provide taxi service) on Calle Duarte, the main street. Lined with a mix of shabby, small vegetable stores, a welding shop, one room residences and restaurants, the street bustles with activity. People greet each other and strangers cheerfully. With the houses sitting right on the street, the sidewalk becomes an extension of the homes and businesses. Men and women play dominoes at tables, slamming the pieces down with enthusiasm. Girls braid each others' hair, farmers sell produce from the back of their trucks and a loudspeaker broadcasts clucking chickens, announcing the arrival of a pickup carrying freshly killed birds for sale, whole or cut to order.

Always on the lookout for a good meal after being on the water for a couple of days, we take the steps up to a second floor restaurant overlooking the main intersection with the town's sole traffic light (non-working). Andre, the owner/manager, soon appears, welcomes us in French accented English. A French Canadian who sailed into Luperon 5 years ago with the intention of continuing on through the Caribbean, he opened the restaurant only recently. As the food is served he advises us that, “If you don't like the food, you don't have to pay!” An American, sitting next to us, empty plate in front of him, tells Andre with a smile that his meal was terrible! “Too late”, replies Andre. Our neighbor introduces himself and we learn that he is Bill from Logan, Ohio, not far from where my mother was born and raised! He too sailed to Luperon several years ago, planning to sail to Australia, only to get caught up the this dynamic, friendly, beautiful but poor country. He is retired from the Boy Scouts of America, where he organized camps, excursions, etc. for hundreds of boys at a time. He decided to use his organizing skills here in his retirement. He runs a nonprofit, nondenominational mission that builds homes for the poor and helps the local people by procuring school supplies, medicine, whatever is needed.

The friendly, industrious people of Luperon reflect a lively and diverse culture and leave a positive impression. At the same time, the economic poverty is obvious. Andre told us the average employee earns about $3 USD a day and while prices for some things are low, many items are at least as expensive as they are in the States. Still, nearly everyone you pass offers a friendly “Hola!” People seem to care greatly about their personal appearance, dressing well considering their apparent lack of means. We get numerous offers for assistance, with some gratuity expected, but few beggars. Nearly everyone, young and old seem to be looking for a way to hustle a few pesos. If a service is provided they expect compensation, but no handouts. If you don't wish the service offered, a simple, "No, gracious" moves them on to the next prospective customer.

We are excited to be at last in the Caribbean. The people, the landscape and the Spanish heritage all promise a refreshing contrast to the former English colonies of the Bahamas. On top of that, we hope to visit my cousin Byron who lives in Santo Domingo.

Note: Pictures to follow. No high speed internet available and life is short.