Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Samana, Dominican Republic

Samana Part III. To get back to town, we flag down one of the pick-up trucks I described above. Mark gets in the cab and I get in the open bed which already contains 2 young fellows and is lined with narrow wooden benches for places to sit. A couple of hundred yards further along we stop for another guy and his large sack of avocados. Within a mile there are 7 of us in the bed, three sacks of avocados and melons, 2 large bunches of bananas and a fifteen foot bamboo pole which we are all holding as it is longer than the truck bed. About halfway down the mountain the driver stops and hands back a blue tarp as it is clear we are heading into a good thundershower. So picture 7 of us trying to hold this tarp over our heads in the pouring rain while descending at about 40 mph. No problem. Just another afternoon in the country. Happy to get back, take a shower and have a drink.

We are now sort of sitting and waiting for a weather break to head for PR. So it goes.

Stuart

Samana, Dominican Republic


Tuesday, August, 29, 2006, 18:13 UTC

Samana Part II. We spend a couple of relaxing days in Samana walking the town even though it is really hot. Starting to think about leaving for Puerto Rico, but the system that will eventually become hurricane Ernesto begins to move in our general direction so all we can do is wait and see what happens. Fortunately, it passes south of us and all we get is a bit of wind and numerous squalls. As Ernesto passes, we learn that there are similar conditions in the Mona Passage between the DR and PR which are even now giving us a lot of rain and squalls so it looks like we will have to wait a few more days for things to clear.

Since I am just sitting in bed watching the rain pour down, I thought I would go ahead and bore anyone actually reading this with a description of a trip we took Friday. Mark and I decided to play tourist Friday afternoon and visit a mountain waterfall, one of the noted attractions in the area. We had one of the local guys who hangs around the dock make arrangements and off we went. First, we took a rather unique contraption (have not seen one anyplace else) which I can only describe as a metal framed rickshaw attached to an underpowered 125 cc motorcycle to the local flea market. This is the staging area for guaguas (small vans that run between cities and stop whenever they are hailed by someone at the roadside), pick-up trucks which provide a similar function and the ubiquitous motor conches. We shift to a van and head up into the mountains. I am certain we will die on the way. Driving anywhere with a Dominican at the wheel is life threatening, but a guagua driver on a mountain road multiplies that by at least 1,000. To my surprise and delight we actually reach our destination alive. From here we will have to go by horseback to the falls. We mount up and accompanied by our 2 experienced guides (aged 10 and 12) hit the trail. The trail is generally about 6 ft wide, completely covered in large rocks and mud and has a barbed wire fence on one side and a river bank on the other. I think Mark had blocked out the fact that we were going to have to get on horses, because he clearly would prefer to be someplace else. His horse figures this out quickly and spends most of the time trying to rub him off on the barbed wire fence or trees along the riverbank. The trail involves steep climbs and descents on nothing but bare rocks and I am wondering if surviving the guagua ride was necessarily a positive, because I am sure the horse will never make it. Of course, it does. We end up at another staging area from which we proceed on foot through more up and down jungle trails to the falls. The falls are nice and we get to catch our breaths before heading back. I really wanted to get a picture of Mark on the horse for his friends and family to see, but he kept coming up with the lame excuse of there being no more room on the disk. His expression was clearly one of 'why in hell am I here'. Arrive back at the starting point to have a beer and a nice chat with the fellow who runs the excursions. Turns out he is also the descendant of slaves and his family names are Kelley and Green as those of Joe from the Port Authority.

Samana, Dominican Republic

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Tuesday, August, 29, 2006, 18:09 UTC
Samana, Dominican Repubic

Chapter 10. Samana. Part I. Leave for Samana about 2 am and I end up sleeping most of the way as trip was uneventful and conditions calm. We have doubts about going to Samana as it has a poor reputation in the cruising community (largely due to 1 guidebook) relating to dinghy and outboard motor theft. As we enter the harbor, we are waved to the municipal dock where the harbor's unofficial representative, Phillipe (who speaks excellent English), greets us and promptly proceeds to manage our arrival. We thought for sure we would have to lug jerry cans of diesel out to the boat, but, lo and behold, there is a pump on the dock. Other than having to run across the street to the ATM for money, we are able to quickly fuel up which is good as the electricity is scheduled to go off within 30 min of our arrival. Phillipe, in a very upfront way, guides us through the whole process of checking in, including who and what we have to pay, which is a real difference from other places we have been in the DR. The officials begin to arrive and with Phillipe's help, we quickly get through the process in exactly the manner he has described. We question him about the reputation of Samana and he very honestly admits that until a few years ago the theft problems existed. However, a change in the local government has lead to a real crackdown including nightly harbor patrols and a new attitude to try and encourage boaters to visit. From what we see throughout our stay, this certainly seems to be the case and our qualms at coming here were completely eliminated.

The town of Samana sits nestled on a hillside overlooking the harbor. We can see 1 large, modern hotel, but most of the resorts are apparently scattered further along the shore line. It's a small, but very busy, town with probably about 20 restaurants and the usual accompaniment of other shops and stores we have seen elsewhere. The surrounding area has a national water park, some lovely bays and inland, mountains all of which make this a unique geographical area in the DR and one frequently visited by both native Dominicans and tourists. Whale watching from boats based here also seems to be a significant attraction. We decide to have breakfast in town before moving to the anchorage and crashing for some sleep. While eating, one of the officials from the port authority tracks us down to hand deliver our harbor permit. We invite him to join us for coffee and he turns out to be a delightful person and provides a wealth of information. Joe is one of the few Dominicans we have seen who is clearly of recent African decent in contrast to most Dominicans who are relatively light in color and have fine bone structure. We guess that most Dominicans trace their ancestry to native Indians. Joe explains that his ancestors were slaves who were released and settled here. His family tree has very Irish sounding surnames like Kelley and Green and this lineage has produced a significant local population with a basically English-speaking background. Mark later finds out that a similarly large number of Jewish refugees who were refused entry in other countries during WWII also settled here, making this a rather unique population. Joe gives us a complete run down on the local effort to help Samana grow into an attractive area that people will want to visit. Very positive and an excellent salesman for his community. We had noted on entering the harbor an interesting and attractive steel trestle bridge which is at least 1 mile long, starts on the mainland, spans 2 small islands and terminates at a third, larger one. This could easily be in an Ansel Adams photograph from anywhere in the US as it is so typical of river bridges in the US constructed in the 30's and 40's and so out of place here in the DR. When I ask Joe about it, he laughs and calls it the 'Bridge to Nowhere' so I assume it must have been built by the US Congress. He assures me that no, it was built by one of the DR strongmen on a whim and has never served any function. See, all of the idiots in the world are not in the US Congress.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Samana, Dominican Republic


Thursday, August, 24, 2006, 18:51 UTC

Chapter 9. Left Sosua about 5 am on the next leg. We were really struck by the beautiful homes and resorts nestled into the cliffs and hills along the coast. This area is really impressive with its hills and mountains tumbling down to the seashore. I'm finally getting used to seeing palm trees on mountain tops. Large stretches are uninhabited and it is really nice to see beauty like this where every square inch has not been built on. Benign trip to Rio San Juan, a small town about 30 miles up the coast where we arrive as planned before the Trades set in against us. Stayed on the boat and rested as we wanted to leave around midnight for Escondido about 55 miles further along.

Left Rio San Juan about midnight and, because this part of the route left us crossing a significant stretch of open sea, immediately began taking the Trades and accompanying seas on the bow. Not as bad as our approach to the Turks and Caicos, but not the way to spend an evening. About 2 am I go below for some rest/sleep, but only manage to rest as I have not learned to sleep while being levitated in the bed. Of course, our berths are in the forward part of the boat where the action is the most pronounced. About 5 am I relieve Mark. Mark is truly amazing, not only does he sleep under these conditions, but so deeply that it is hard to wake him later. For the most part, we have, to date, only traveled for a day or 2 at most and then settled down for a few before moving again, so our schedule has been relatively normal. Now, we are moving for several consecutive days and at odd hours. Being someone who has spent his whole life in a fairly regular routine, I have yet to adapt to the non-schedule, whereas Mark can sleep or eat whenever the opportunity arises.

Anyway, arrive Escondido early morning. The entire coast here is mountainous and if it weren't for the palm trees, the entrance to the small anchorage could be a fjord in Norway. Truly striking. At the back of the anchorage is a lovely beach with about 5 palm huts and about the same number of small fishing boats pulled up on the beach. These boats are the size and construction of what we would term rowboats, yet we see these fishermen out every night several miles offshore in the Trades and accompanying seas. You couldn't get me to go along with one of these guys for a single night for anything in the world. Here we are, not terribly comfortable, in a 45 ft. catamaran and they are out in these tiny boats every night. No thank you.

As we anchor, one of the fishermen is rowing his boat to shore and lets us know that a couple of the huts are 'restaurants' (I use the term loosely) and that we should come for a meal. We tell him 'in the afternoon' as we are both ready for some zzzzz's. We put the dinghy down and go ashore about 2 pm, where 2 women from apparently competing 'restaurants' try to convince us to sample their wares. Since one of them tells us she is the sister of the guy we met in the morning, we feel we practically have a reservation at her place. There is, of course, no menu, but fresh fish is available and what we both crave. There is no electricity and all the food and drinks are in a cooler with a big block of ice. We settle down with a Presidente and wait for the meal which takes about an hour to prepare. Meanwhile a couple of young local guys sit down near us and we begin our Spanglish thing. They are very interested in our journey and what we have thought of the DR. We, in turn, learn that they mostly live right here in the palm huts and just enjoy the peace and tranquility available. We enjoy the dialogue and, once again, value the opportunity to interact with local people in their environment. There is a small dirt road that comes down to the beach and, in fact, tourists come here from nearby Samana (our next destination) for the beach and beautiful scenery. There are actually a group of Italians enjoying themselves nearby. The meal turns out to be fried whole snapper, rice and peas and plantains. The Dominicans have a way of frying things where there is not a bit of grease left and even the fish skin is crisp and delicious. The fish is sauced with onions and tomatoes, cooked perfectly and would do any restaurant proud. Back to the boat for some more sleep, then a 1 am departure for Samana, the last port at the end of the island.

Stuart

Samana, Dominican Republic


Thursday, August, 24, 2006, 18:44 UTC

Chapter 9. Left Sosua about 5 am on the next leg. We were really struck by the beautiful homes and resorts nestled into the cliffs and hills along the coast. This area is really impressive with its hills and mountains tumbling down to the seashore. I'm finally getting used to seeing palm trees on mountain tops. Large stretches are uninhabited and it is really nice to see beauty like this where every square inch has not been built on. Benign trip to Rio San Juan, a small town about 30 miles up the coast where we arrive as planned before the Trades set in against us. Stayed on the boat and rested as we wanted to leave around midnight for Escondido about 55 miles further along.

Left Rio San Juan about midnight and, because this part of the route left us crossing a significant stretch of open sea, immediately began taking the Trades and accompanying seas on the bow. Not as bad as our approach to the Turks and Caicos, but not the way to spend an evening. About 2 am I go below for some rest/sleep, but only manage to rest as I have not learned to sleep while being levitated in the bed. Of course, our berths are in the forward part of the boat where the action is the most pronounced. About 5 am I relieve Mark. Mark is truly amazing, not only does he sleep under these conditions, but so deeply that it is hard to wake him later. For the most part, we have, to date, only traveled for a day or 2 at most and then settled down for a few before moving again, so our schedule has been relatively normal. Now, we are moving for several consecutive days and at odd hours. Being someone who has spent his whole life in a fairly regular routine, I have yet to adapt to the non-schedule, whereas Mark can sleep or eat whenever the opportunity arises.

Anyway, arrive Escondido early morning. The entire coast here is mountainous and if it weren't for the palm trees, the entrance to the small anchorage could be a fjord in Norway. Truly striking. At the back of the anchorage is a lovely beach with about 5 palm huts and about the same number of small fishing boats pulled up on the beach. These boats are the size and construction of what we would term rowboats, yet we see these fishermen out every night several miles offshore in the Trades and accompanying seas. You couldn't get me to go along with one of these guys for a single night for anything in the world. Here we are, not terribly comfortable, in a 45 ft. catamaran and they are out in these tiny boats every night. No thank you.

As we anchor, one of the fishermen is rowing his boat to shore and lets us know that a couple of the huts are 'restaurants' (I use the term loosely) and that we should come for a meal. We tell him 'in the afternoon' as we are both ready for some zzzzz's. We put the dinghy down and go ashore about 2 pm, where 2 women from apparently competing 'restaurants' try to convince us to sample their wares. Since one of them tells us she is the sister of the guy we met in the morning, we feel we practically have a reservation at her place. There is, of course, no menu, but fresh fish is available and what we both crave. There is no electricity and all the food and drinks are in a cooler with a big block of ice. We settle down with a Presidente and wait for the meal which takes about an hour to prepare. Meanwhile a couple of young local guys sit down near us and we begin our Spanglish thing. They are very interested in our journey and what we have thought of the DR. We, in turn, learn that they mostly live right here in the palm huts and just enjoy the peace and tranquility available. We enjoy the dialogue and, once again, value the opportunity to interact with local people in their environment. There is a small dirt road that comes down to the beach and, in fact, tourists come here from nearby Samana (our next destination) for the beach and beautiful scenery. There are actually a group of Italians enjoying themselves nearby. The meal turns out to be fried whole snapper, rice and peas and plantains. The Dominicans have a way of frying things where there is not a bit of grease left and even the fish skin is crisp and delicious. The fish is sauced with onions and tomatoes, cooked perfectly and would do any restaurant proud. Back to the boat for some more sleep, then a 1 am departure for Samana, the last port at the end of the island.

Stuart

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Sosua, Dominican Republic


Wednesday, August, 23, 2006, 03:09

Chapter 8. Trip from Luperon to Sosua largely uneventful except for a vibration in 1 of the prop shafts which we'll check out later. As we arrive in Sosua, we look at each other and, I am sure, have the same thought. Why have we been in Luperon when we could have been here??? Sosua is beautiful. We arrive in a horse shoe shaped bay where the back of the shoe is all beach spotted with clusters of colored umbrellas and chairs. On one arm of the shoe are elegant looking apartments and on the other, 2 nice hotels with verandas right on the water. Around the corner from these hotels, the coast rises into cliffs where a series of beautiful looking resorts are situated, most of which have beaches you can walk down to. We are barely anchored when a local official comes out for the usual request for a contribution to his lifestyle. It's only about $15, but we are getting tired of it as it happens every place we stop and we are always told 'you will not have to pay again at any other port'. We dinghy to the beach and before we have finished hauling out and tieing up, hear the familiar cry 'amigo'. Of course, it's another of Mark's good friends, Charlie Valdez. I'm beginning to think Mark knows someone in every port of the world, but he swears to me this is the last one along this route. Hmm. Charlie helped Mark with the same lousy delivery boat as Papo in Luperon on his forgettable trip 4 years ago. Charlie has a couple of small boats which take tourists from the hotels on diving trips and tow inflatable saucers and sharks for kid rides here at the beach. We are now 'adopted' by Charlie and the other boat guys which is real nice because now we don't have to worry about having anything stolen as it quickly becomes known that we are their 'amigos' and thus not to be hassled. This is also important because the local officials don't like boats to stay here more than 24 hrs (probably because they get in the way of the boat rides, diving boats, sightseeing boats, etc. which all use a limited area to operate in) but we now have a special dispensation to stay thanks to Charlie.

For the 1st time since leaving the Bahamas, we are again in beautiful, clear water. Mark does a quick dive and discovers that 1 of the props has been nicked causing the vibration on the way over. Next follows a difficult process of getting the prop off which Mark attacks with his usual focus. It's not easy because you have to do all this underwater, but fortunately Charlie has a big hammer which eventually solves the problem. As you may remember, we still have radio issues so the radio and the prop will go to Puerta Plata for repairs. Mark takes both the following day and gets the prop grinded back into shape and the radio again working at Mr. Sanchez's shop. On re-installation in the boat, radio does nothing. We spend about an hour with the radio and finally with switches in positions they should not be in, it starts to work. We greedily take down over 100 e-mails waiting on the server (most of which are junk mail) and are finally able to start getting things out to the ship's log so anyone interested can find out what has been happening to us. Again, we apologize for this gap in communication and any worries it has caused.

Since we now have this beautiful clear water, Mark has decided to let me graduate to more significant tasks on the boat. I get to clean the bottom. Actually, Mark does most of the work, but I do try and help. Picture scraping barnacles off two 45 ft. hulls using a barbecue spatula. Anyway, I combine this with snorkeling a really nice reef located right in the middle of the bay. The reef is full of tropical fish and anyone who has done this knows the spectrum of colors that is seen in reef fish. If you have not, it can not be described adequately and you have missed a special visual experience. These fish apparently get fed regularly by snorkeling groups and have no shyness at all. One day I end up in the middle of a school of about 200 of what, I think, are blue tangs and it was really neat. These fish have many different colors depending on the stage of maturity, so you really get a visual cascade. There is also a lot of SCUBA diving here and I have been told there are both wrecks and caves to explore, but I won't get to that on this trip.

We've been here almost a week and it has been delightful. The mid afternoons are still really hot and we try to go in to the beach to sit in the shade and hang with our boat guys and other locals. A cold Presidente is really important in the heat, but that can almost be ruined by the site of a bunch of fat men walking around in bikini bathing suits. Tourists have no shame. We've had several days where late in the afternoon the breeze is blowing, the sun is at our backs and the heat is largely gone. I have found it perfect to take one of our adjustable lounge chairs up on the foredeck with a book and a rum and coke and just read and watch the boats pulling happy kids on the big inflatable toys. I actually started the trip on gin and tonics, but have not seen a bottle of tonic since leaving the States, so I am learning to adapt.

The only problem with Sosua is that it is touristy to the hilt. There must be 300 little gift shops (most selling the same things) and nearly that many restaurants. Plus, everything is tourist priced or roughly 30 to 50% higher than in Luperon. I don't understand how the restaurants make it because on Friday night we took Charlie and his family for dinner at a typical restaurant and it was our party and one other couple for the entire evening. Charlie has 2 delightful girls (10 and 11) and they quickly and completely wrap Mark around their little fingers which he enjoys immensely. His Spanglish is really improving although a lot of it is gestures, but the girls are happily encouraging. Apparently, almost everything here is package deals including meals so most touristas never leave their resorts at night. None of the Dominicans live here because everything is so expensive. However, even at these prices things are still relatively cheap by American standards. In walking around town I browsed in a couple of real estate places and for about 200K you can get a substantial villa with guest house, pool, etc. 75-100K gets you a fully modern apt. in a lovely complex. Compared to the 1.5 mil for a 2 bedroom apt. we saw in the Turks and Caicos this is practically a giveaway.

We are now planning to provision here and make a try for Puerto Rico. This will probably be the most difficult part of this leg as once again we are going into the Trade Winds and we are pretty much out of safe harbors to duck into. The trick is to catch a weather window between tropical waves which have been coming through regularly. Will let you know in a few days how this works out.

Stuart

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Sosua, Dominican Republic


Sunday, August, 20, 2006, 19:11 UTC

Chapter 7, Part I. How to describe Luperon? It's like somebody dropped Newark, New Jersey into the DR. Seriously ugly. First, you may wonder, why are we in Luperon? Well, the answer is simple. It's the only true hurricane harbor in this part of the Caribbean. The harbor is almost completely enclosed and surrounded on three sides by steep hills so there is great protection from all directions. The surrounding vegetation is all mangroves, so in bad weather you can get close to the mangroves and tie the boat off at multiple points. There are between 80 and 100 boats here when we arrive and almost all of them will spend the entire hurricane season. I don't know if it's peculiar to mangrove areas or not, but the water is so full of silt you can't see your hand in it. It's probably good that you can't see much because it is really filthy on top of that.

When we left LaIsabela, the radio had gone to Puerta Plata for repairs (about 40 minutes away by car) and the dinghy outboard was only running on rare occasions. Fortunately, it actually started after we anchored, so we went to the Puerto Blanco Marina where the boat people generally hang out. As soon as we step out of the dinghy, one of the locals comes up and throws his arms around Mark. Turns out, he had helped Mark 4 years ago during the delivery of a really lousy boat from the Virgin Islands that Mark had eventually left here (because it was falling apart) during a hurricane. This fellow (Papo) runs a boat service in the harbor (fuel, water, and virtually anything else you need) so we now have a connection. That's good, because the outboard refuses to start so Papo tows us back to Stray Cat. Mark continues to take the carburetor apart and clean it every few hours (mostly out of frustration) but nothing seems to work. This and the radio are proving really frustrating, especially for Mark, who is used to fixing anything that arises, but here are 2 problems that are out of our control.

Fortunately for us, people on 1 of the nearby boats have an extra outboard which they generously lend us so we are now mobile again. The decision is made to haul the outboard to Puerta Plata to try and get it fixed, but when Mark gets there he can't find an outboard repair place so it goes to a motorcycle shop on the assumption that they do carburetors by the dozens and a carburetor is a carburetor. Meanwhile we find out that a part for the radio has to be ordered from the States so everything seems to be happening manana. Next day we get a call from the cycle shop. Motor fixed, everything fine. JOY. Make another trip to Puerta Plata (by the way, each trip costs mucho dinero). Motor does exactly the same thing as previously and the head mechanic is out of town. Back to Luperon. Finally get the head mechanic on the phone. He, of course speaks only Spanish, so we have to work through a translator who speaks limited English. I think you get the idea. Mucho frustration!!! Mechanic says we need a new carburetor which, of course, will probably have to come from the States. Pulling our hair out. Mark can't afford this after his haircut in LaIsabela. Anyway, about this time one of the other boaters who had heard of our plight stopped by to tell us there was actually a Yamaha (our outboard is a Yamaha) trained mechanic on one of the boats in the harbor, but he was away in the States for a few days. We decide to wait till he gets back and have him look at the beast. Nothing else we can do at this point. Another trip to Puerta Plata to bring the motor back. Talk about frustration.

Just to lighten the situation, about this time we start getting reports that the 1st Caribbean hurricane is forming and approaching Puerto Rico with us pretty much in its path. As the storm approaches Puerto Rico, we decide to get out of the main harbor and go up one of the branching creeks where there is better protection. Fortunately, we move before most of the other boats make the same decision and get a good spot where we can put out multiple anchors and tie to the mangroves. This works well except now we are so close to the mangroves that the no-see-ums drive us below in the late afternoon and mornings. They find us very tasty. Plus, there is little wind in here so the boat is really hot during the day. Not a fun time. Luckily, the hurricane falls apart before it gets to us and we get virtually no weather from it so we can leave our little insect haven.

Sosua, Dominican Republic


Sunday, August, 20, 2006, 18:58 UTC

Chapter 7, Part II. The Yamaha guy finally gets back and after he settles back in we drop off the beast. He assures us he will have it running in 2 hours.Wrong. Takes him 3, but here he comes and the little thing is running better than ever. Turns out one of the channels in the carburetor was blocked and he found it with a large magnifying glass and easily cleaned it. One MAJOR problem solved. Get a call that the part is in for the radio and it will be ready in 2 days. Can this be possible?? Pick up the radio, bring it back and it doesn't work. Try everything Mark can think of (I contribute dumb suggestions which he gracefully listens to) but nothing works. Back to Puerta Plata. Radio works fine in the shop. Frustration X 100. Back to boat. Radio doesn't work. Enough is enough. We decide we've had it with Luperon and will move on to Sosua and deal with the radio from there.

Some thoughts on Luperon. We ended up spending nearly a month in Luperon and in spite of it being a pretty ugly place and the frustrations we had to deal with, it was not all bad. Luperon is basically about 8 blocks long and 4 blocks wide. Most of the stores are 1 room and the houses uniformly shanties. There are a few serious villas on the hills above the harbor and overlooking the ocean, but these are owned by a limited number of wealthy Dominicans and foreigners who have obtained residency. There is a bank here, but no ATM machine so foreigners have to go to another city to get dineros. Surprising since there is a fair sized boating community as well as a couple of pretty nice resorts just outside the city. At least there is internet access so I can let my family know I'm alive. It's phone dial up, but works as long as the electricity doesn't go off. It's also the only place I've found in town with an air conditioner.

The people here are generally poor, but again you see no one in dirty or torn clothes. They are generous and helpful and extremely tolerant of us 'gringos' and our not always pleasant ways. Like everywhere else we had no problem sitting down with locals and doing our Spanglish thing. Just one example here of Dominican generosity. On one of our numerous trips to Puerta Plata, we stopped at a gas station. After getting gas, the car (actually a 3 cylinder Dhaihatsu mini-truck which required one of us to sit in the open back) refused to start. Immediately, about 10 guys helped push us out of the way and tried to get us started. As we were playing with the battery wires, etc., someone pulled up in a beat up old pick up truck. He stopped the truck, opened his hood, took out the battery, carried it over to us and held it while we attached our cables and got started. When we thanked him his response was 'nada' and he just got in his truck and drove away. Made quite an impression on me.

In Luperon we frequent several of the little stores (tiendas) which never have more than a few things. In one you might find avocados and tomatoes and in another eggs and mangoes. Everything here is simply cheap by our standards. It's hard getting used to eggs and produce that have never been refrigerated so you can leave them out indefinitely. You can spend $10 on a meal in a restaurant only with great difficulty and the food in the stores (unless imported) is on a similar scale.

After 2.5 months without a haircut (I still have a full head of hair at my advanced age), I decided to bite the bullet and I'll relate the story because it reflects Luperon. Choices were to have one of the boat people who cuts hair do it or go local. Decided to go local. The barbershop is a 1 room shack with a barber chair that doesn't work. Floor is dirt and almost completely covered with hair and fruit rinds from whatever it is the barber is eating while he works. I assume that at the end of the day when it's probably ankle deep, it gets swept out. Like many barbershops, it's a social gathering place and people are in and out and the lively conversation never slows down. I have to wait while a young woman gets her eyebrows trimmed with a straight razor which is whirling all around her face emphasizing points in the animated conversation. Finally, I get my turn and it takes a while as the electricity goes off, a frequent occurrence, in most places here. Get my beard trimmed and a shave which is interesting as there is no shaving cream or hot water, but for $2.50 I shouldn't complain because I hate to tell you what I would pay in Washington.

Mark has one of those to remember experiences one afternoon when he sits down to watch a group of kids playing 'baseball' with a tennis ball and a palm frond. He is the only adult there and is at first ignored by the kids. When he applauds their successes and cheers their efforts, they immediately take to him and he becomes somewhat of a 'pied piper' with an entourage. He draws so much attention that a group of the young local ladies insist on treating him to Cuba Libres, but it's the adulation of the children for something most of us would take for granted that really makes the day for him and the kids. These are the kinds of things we will remember from the DR.

Luperon also introduces us to Dominican chicken carbone. Nothing goes to waste here. On the back streets in front of their houses people take used 50 gal. drums, cut them in half and make them into grills where they slow roast chickens which cost about $4. It's a treat to once again eat chickens that have no fat on them (sorry Frank, don't care for your product) and actually taste like chicken.

The foreign community - Most of the boaters here are American although there are people from all over. A large segment hangs out at the Puerto Blanco Marina. As you might expect, some are really nice people and some are duds. Some go out into the country and enjoy Dominica while others sit around the Marina and complain about how incompetent the people are and how nothing works. You wonder why the latter are here in the first place. A surprising number of boaters have bought property here (land is cheap) and at least say they plan to build homes. There is also a small group that I have a real problem with. These are people who do work for other boaters (fix things, clean boat bottoms, provide taxi service if they have a car, etc.). They are not residents so the work is illegal. Illegal aliens. Sound familiar?? It's one thing to provide a service that doesn't exist here, but quite something else when you compete with some of the poor, but honest people (such as our friend Papo) who are just trying to do anything to get by and take care of their families.

I apologize for the rambling discourse, but this covers almost a month in time and it's being done retrospectively. Mark and I are both tired of Luperon so we'll leave early in the morning and see what Sosua has to offer.

Stuart

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Sosua, Dominican Republic


Tuesday, August, 15, 2006, 19:11 UTC

Chapter 5. Stuck in the DR. In case anyone is actually following this journey and wondering why we havn't posted anything in a while, it's because we have had radio problems and no e-mail access. I'll describe the situation in more detail in future log entries, but the present chapter is our situation almost a month ago and I will update the past month over the next few days assuming radio communication continues to be successful. Anyway, think I left off with our departure from Manzanillo for Montecriste. Just a short morning jump of about 17 miles. We were looking forward to MC as the guide books describe it as an old town with beautiful reefs for snorkeling. Hmmm. Reefs were actually far off shore and with the way the winds have been blowing, too far for us to get to. The bay turned out to be really shallow so we had to anchor a fair distance from shore which meant a long, wet dinghy trip unless you were industrious and got started before the daily Trade Winds started to blow. As usual, there is a restaurant/bar right at the water's edge and for $5-$10 dollars you can get a simple, but wonderful, meal of fresh seafood perfectly cooked and lots of El Presidente.

The town of MC is about a mile from the beach and quite interesting. As you enter, one of the first things you hit is a pizzeria owned by an Italian transplant. He (as almost all of the people here) was warm and engaging and we enjoyed learning about his experiences and the town. MC is actually clean. The streets seem to be swept and garbage is not ubiquitous. You do still have the occasional cow or goat in the street, but they are also pretty friendly. Again, lots of apparent poverty and shacks, but then, right next to one of these, you find a beautiful stucco home which would look great in any well-to-do neighborhood in the world. This intermingling goes on throughout the town which creates a lot of visual surprises as we walk. There is actually a supermercado in MC where we pick up some groceries. Supermercado in this part of the world is a relative term as most are smaller than anything you would think of at home and more like a family store.

Saturday night we went to town and while first stopping for an El Presidente at our beach bar, met a group of grad students from San Diego. They apparently spend their time lying on the beach, drinking El Presidentes and SCUBA diving an old Spanish wreck in the bay. THEY ACTUALLY GET COLLEGE CREDIT FOR THIS. I want to go back to school. The rest of the gang wanted to look for a rumored 'fiesta', but Mark and I were skeptical of its existence and opted for a quiet dinner. We found a small place, Hotel Milano, which, of course was owned by an Italian originally from Milan. We were the only diners and enjoyed another superbly cooked fish dinner. With our limited Spanish, we learned that Ernesto is sending his beautiful 14 year old daughter to school in New York City in the fall, but didn't have the heart to tell him what a can of worms that was. We were shortly joined by George, Ernesto's good friend who fortunately for us speaks excellent English as we have pretty much gone as far as we can in Spanish. George is a German who owns a hotel in Santo Domingo (and apparently a number of other things) and has boated all over the world. Spent a couple of enjoyable hours and a bottle of rum with he and Mark comparing notes about places they have been and the world in general. George took us back to the beach in his Land Rover and almost drove it into the water. Hope he got home ok.

We are ready to move on, but the winds have kept us locked in. The strategy from here is to leave about midnight when the Trades have supposedly died down and make for La Isabella, about 40 miles up the coast. Tonight the winds have died by about 12 and we and one of the other boats have set out. We get out of the bay, turn east and immediately begin to hit strong winds and 8-10 ft seas straight from where we want to go. Forget it. Turn around and head back to MC for another day watching the wind blow. Everyone is pretty convinced from the weather reports that we'll have to sit here another 4-5 days until we get a break in the weather pattern. However, following night I notice wind has really dropped by 10 pm. Set an alarm for 12 and go to sleep. Really calm when we get up at 12 so decide to take a shot. Surprisingly calm when we get out of the bay and we have an easy motoring trip to La Isabella where we arrive at daybreak. Next Chapter - La Isabella.

Stuart

La Isabella

Chapter 6 - LaIsabella. Arrived LaIsabella at dawn and anchored in front of, as the guidebook describes it, the lovely Rancho del Sol Hotel. Mark actually knows the owners as he sold them a boat several years ago. Promptly went to sleep. After waking, took it easy for the day and about sundown noticed another boat entering the anchorage. Contacted them on VHF and it was one of our pod from MC. Apparently, they had gotten up in the morning, found the seas flat and wind calm so all 3 decided to leave MC for LaIsabella. Big mistake. Trades filled in after they had gone too far to turn back so they spent the day getting their brains beat out in seas right on the nose. Anyway, next morning a young man paddles out to our boat on a kayak and introduces himself as the son (Pablo) of the hotel owners. When I told him that Mark (who was off visiting one of the other boats) actually sold his father their boat, he looked at me in disbelief and I am sure thought I was pulling his leg. So off he went to confirm the story with Mark and when done we, of course, were instantly adopted as distant relatives. Pablo took us in to see LaIsabella and get Mark a haircut.

LaIsabella is the site of the first city founded by Columbus in the New World and there are a number of ruins still here as well as a museum with a nice collection of artifacts from Columbus' time here. The village itself is really small with 2 bar/restaurants, a couple of 1 room stores, and a few houses. Mark got his haircut which will probably last him for 3 or 4 years. After seeing the results, I decided to pass. Had a sandwich at one of the restaurants (I use the term loosely as there are no walls and there is a constant parade of people, kids and animals). Food was really tasty and the chicken standing next to the table seemed completely uninterested in it or us. Almost all of these places have 2 huge blown out speakers which play Dominican music at a volume that precludes any conversation so we eat and leave. Meet Pablo's mother, Sonja, back at the hotel and she and Mark renew acquaintances. Charming woman who is fluent in several languages including, fortunately for us, English. The hotel is actually small with only a few rooms and a magnificent veranda where meals are served overlooking the bay. The Spanish have a word which perfectly describes this place, tranquillo. If you ever want to spend a few days in an absolutely gorgeous place and can entertain yourself (reading, sitting on the beach, contemplating your navel, etc.), this is heaven. If you need more excitement, you can always take trips from here, although it's not terribly easy. We actually rent motorcycles and see the surrounding country plus Luperon where we will later get stuck for almost a month.

LaIsabella is a delight for us. We can buy the few things we really need in the little stores and find that the second restaurant, Olivo's, doesn't play loud music so we adopt it as our hangout. Good choice as the food is wonderful and costs little although there are only about 10 items on the menu. For about $4-5 you get 2 whole snappers, vegetables and a salad. We become regulars here and spend one of our most enjoyable nights in the DR when Mark and I are invited to sit with Olivo's family for dinner and conversation. We spend about 4 hrs doing our Spanglish thing (only one of them speaks English) and just have a ball. The rum and El Presidentes make things go much smoooother. Just a series of really nice relaxing days until the troubles start. We began losing the short wave radio between the Turks and Caicos and the DR and Mark wants to get it fixed before continuing as we have no other means of communication. This is why we have not posted anything recently and this and future updates are more of a retrospective than a real time occurrence. After much effort, he finds a guy in Puerta Plata (an hour away) who can do the job, so the radio gets taken there for repair. Turns out to be a lengthy process involving numerous trips mostly from Luperon where we will next stop as both the radio and tuner have problems and will require parts from the States. Anyway, about this time we begin having problems with the outboard on the dinghy which finally stops running. This is a serious problem as there are no docks anyplace we go so you need a dinghy to get from the big boat to shore and the winds prevent rowing. Bottom line - we are basically stuck on the boat. Not fun. Mark takes apart and cleans the carburetor (which we suspect is the problem) about 4 times, but no luck. It's about this time that we decide to continue to Luperon which is actually a small town and on our way in the hopes of getting things fixed. After 1 aborted attempt due to strong headwinds, we make Luperon where the saga will be continued. We think the radio problem is fixed (8/15/06), and if so, updates will soon continue.