Enjoying Cuba

The Passage

It was an ominous beginning. But, aren't they all? I have been anticipating this cruise to Cuba for weeks, even months. During the month of September 1999 everything seemed to be falling in place. I had satisfied all my personal and business obligations, which, for an itinerant sailor, is not very difficult.

My 36' sailing vessel, Sirius II, was in good repair, with the exception of a persistent water leak that I have been trying to trace for over two years. A cold front with winds in excess of 30 knots ushers in October I continue to stock up on supplies and even start polishing some of the stainless steel while awaiting a weather window. I usually don't do stainless steel.

On October 7 the weather shows signs of improving. I hoist the dinghy and weigh anchor. I stop at the fuel dock to top off with fuel and water. At 3:00 p.m. I have my weather window. No tropical storm conditions in the Florida Straits for the next 24 hours. It is time to go. This departure time means it will be possible to arrive in Cuba 90 miles away about noon the following day, with an easy sail in following seas. So I thought.

It's after dark when the Sirius II begins to feel the effects of the Gulf Stream. Knowing that this current will push the boat easterly, I set a course a few degrees to the west of Havana and Marina Hemingway, our destination. (Even though this is a solo cruise, I find myself using the plural often in this narrative as I soon begin talking to the Sirius II as if she has her own personality. Which she does.) The sea is now quite choppy, being buffeted by a wind, now around 30 knots, going head-to-head with the Gulf Stream. And the Gulf Stream is winning! Forward progress has dropped from six knots to less than two. Several waves have pooped the boat. I learn that the electric motor that operates the automatic steering can still operate while fully immersed in salt water. Before I am able to put the companionway boards in place, sea water spills over into the cabin below. In order to keep forward momentum and water out of the cockpit, I engage the engine.

I arrive in Marina Hemingway about 4:00 p.m., several hours behind schedule, still under power as the wind has shifted to the south. The Guarda, no doubt noticing the Stars and Stripes flapping in the wind on the stern of the Sirius II, greet us with "Estados Unitos?"

"Si, Si" I respond, in the best Spanish that I can muster.

"De Donde?"

"Cayo Hueso" ( Key West), I shout back. With this he holds up two fingers and says something to the effect that he has two brothers (or friends? ) living in Key West.

I learn that as a consequence of the high winds, I am the only boat to come in to Marina Hemingway today. By the time the cadre of officials arrives to check me in, darkness has fallen. For this I am assessed an additional $20 fee because the officials have to work past 5:00 p.m.!

It is an ominous beginning Many of the same situations and conditions already experienced will become a pattern over the next three months as I slog my way around Cuba in a counter clockwise direction, nearly always, it seems, into the wind.

On this first passage I lose my computer and two of my three flashlights to water damage, which also damages my video camera and causes electrical shorts in the interior lights and bilge pump. Contrary weather causes me to stay longer in some ports than planned, or to turn back after starting a passage.

What makes this grueling trip memorable and worthwhile, however, is the repetition many times over of the smile and friendly greeting of the Cuban guard as I entered Marina Hemingway. Flying the American flag commands a degree of interest, particularly in the less traveled parts of Cuba. Hailing from Florida, however, especially Key West, seems to create a bond with many Cubans. It made me feel special.

Marina Hemingway