2001: A Sea Odyssey

Cuba

[First report from Steven Jones]

As I pen these words, it is July 15 and I have just arrived in the Dominican Republic. Wow! Am I right on schedule, or what?

(Bridget, my anchor windlass is made by Ideal, 5810 Post Road, E. Greenwich RI 02818. The phone number I have for them is 401 884-2550. The man who man who negotiated my radar repair is located on Stock Island: Triangular Marine Electronics. The message that appears on the radar screen is HD-SIG-MISS. I climbed the mast, took the lid off the dome, and found a loose screw in the bottom. Otherwise, everything looks OK up there.)

Here is an amplified log of my current trip to the Dominican Republic (Republica Dominicana).

Thursday June 14. Preparing for departure. Bridget came out to help weigh anchors and retrieve the mooring ball. On the dinghy ride out she commented that I must not believe in the sailor’s folklore that a Friday departure on a voyage brings bad luck. I told her no, that I am not much into superstitions.

Today it would have taken a full crew to hoist the anchors; they were fouled. The first anchor, the secondary anchor, wouldn’t budge. After diving into the murky waters of Key West, I could see that there was another anchor and a whole bunch of chain and rope wrapped around my anchor. Apparently, another boat had dragged across both my anchor chains sometime in the six months since January, became entangled and either broke free or was cut free, leaving me the mess. It was nightfall before we were able to straighten out the problem, making it impossible to leave Friday as we still had some stores to purchase and stow. In the process, I bumped my knee pretty hard and am still limping a little one month later. That will teach me to try and leave on a Friday!

To these ditties: “Red sky at night/ Sailors delight” and

“Red sky in the morning/ Sailors take warning” we can now add another:

“He who ignores the folklore of the sea/ Soon will a lame Sailor be.”

Saturday June 16. Lifted dinghy and outboard, weighed anchor and went in to Key West Bight fuel dock to top off fuel and water. Departed Key West o/a 1700 hours. Breeze out of the SE. First problem: Unbeknownst to me, the newly repaired autopilot was reprogrammed for a starboard mount by the factory. My configuration is a port mount. This resulted in an automatic correction to the starboard whenever the need arose to correct to the port. Minor problem, if you don’t object to going in circles. I corrected this problem forthwith.

During the night, on her watch, Bridget called me up to help her gauge the distance of a light that she could see visibly but could not locate by radar. I fine-tuned the radar and determined the target was less than a football field away and in fact was another sail boat sailing with only her mast light on and without using her red/green navigation lights. Trying to save battery amps; no doubt. Apparently the fiberglass boat did not have a radar detector that would have enabled our radar to see her about 2 – 3 miles away. Damn sail boaters! That was the last time my nearly prepared radar worked properly.

Sunday June 17. Happy Father’s Day. Arrived Marina Hemingway [See 1. on the map] o/a 1530 hours. By the time clearance was completed it was past 5:00 and we had to pay the $20 overtime charge. (This is the only port/marina in Cuba that has this policy.) Greeted by Bob and Mary on the s/v Sarah, whom I had just recently met in Key West. Had pizza for dinner, my Father’s Day treat, although I didn’t realize it at the time.

Monday June 18. Changed oil and oil filter, primary fuel filter on the diesel motor, and repaired fuel line that was nearly broken. All in an attempt to correct dirty black engine smoke detected on the trip over. Helped.

Tuesday June 19. Went to the airline office to purchase ticket to Gerona on Isla de la Juventud [See 5. on the map] ($48 round trip). Rode bike out to beach area adjacent to the harbor entry. Greeted by a Cuban whose friends Orlando and Rolando (brothers) had been swimming in the area on Sunday and watched the arrival of the Sirius II. He invited me to a party this evening ostensibly to help greet his American brother just arriving from Miami. Actually, it turns out the brother never arrived but Judy did, whose son needed lunch money for school tomorrow. Sure! That makes my new friend a pimp!

Wednesday June 19. Met the family of Mimi from Key West. She had sent a bag full of shoes for her family. This is what they wanted! Took the bag to the Cuba Aduana and they determined how much duty needed to be paid. They weren’t interested in the receipts that Mimi had forged. I had insisted that Mimi send money for this purpose.

Thursday June 20 – June 23. Flew to “La Isla” to visit Migdalia and her family. Took with me a bicycle for Migdalia, horseshoe nails for El Padre, tablecloth for Mama, and odds and ends. All were appreciated, especially the bicicleta, which Migdalia had wanted since she envied my rusty old bike when I first arrived in Gerona in 1999. I have never met anyone who seems always to be so upbeat as Migdalia. Still, she conveys to me that she has not been happy. Much is lost in the translation, but I gather that her parents have not been well, she has not been well, preparing the guest room for tourists such as me is not going as planned, and she has not been participating in her group’s dance rehearsals. However, she has recently contacted the group conductor and will start rehearsals again. Her group is scheduled for tours in many of Cuba’s major cities and maybe Europe, where she has been before.

The highlight of this visit is a trip to the beach at Hotel Colony, the Southwest part of the island, where I have been with the Sirius II before. We take the local bus, which must have had 200 people stacked inside. But the price is right, less than a nickel. And I am able to purchase swimming trunks, European style, for less than $2. Pretty brief. I sunburn in places that have never been burned before. Migdalia’s older sister Dalia (remember Rolando and Orlando mentioned above) lives nearby and she, her son, Migdalia’s son, and several other relatives join us for a day on the beach. Dalia is curious if I have any brothers, but I assure her that they are all too old for her!

Sunday June 24. Return to Marina Hemingway. Bridget has been busy buying Cuban paintings and visiting her artist friends. Inform Capitan de Puerto of departure time and stops enroute so he can prepare a despacho.

Monday June 25. Ride hotel bus into Old Town to shop at Tiende de Navegacion for charts for the Dominican Republic. None. Am I surprised? Neither were there any available in Key West.

Depart for Varadero o/a 1500 into the easterly trade winds, about 14 – 20 knots. Uncomfortable trip; Bridget takes ill and isn’t much company.

Tuesday June 26 - 28. Arrive early. Dock workers not on duty yet. Met folks on Sebastian, John and Sara from Los Angeles, who left Hemingway a day earlier with perfect weather!!! Katria is the new PR person. How is it that Cuban women are so gorgeous? Tanya stops in to visit later, as she remembers me from before.

From John I get a copy of Passages South, from which I copy pages that pertain to the DR. Bridget realizes that the rest of the trip to Holguin will have similar winds and elects to travel by bus to Cienfuegos and Trinidad and will meet me in Holguin.

Friday June 29. Another Friday. So, after seeing Bridget off, I elect to leave mid-day for Cayo Blanco, arriving o/a 1700, from where I will begin tomorrow my next leg of the trek. Cayo Blanco has changed much since Nigel Calder wrote about it in 1995. Many daytime tourist facilities have been established. And the holding ground for anchors is terrible. Dragged twice during the night.

Saturday June 30. Dep o/a 0700. Sailed some, mostly under power directly into the trade winds. Arr lighthouse at Bahia de Cadiz o/a 1530 and dropped anchor for the night, sharing space with two Cuban fishing boats.

Sunday July 1 – 2. Early departure for overnighter to Cayo Coco. Rough trip. Heaviest seas so far. Arr Cayo Coco next day about 1130. There are two entrance buoys but no channel markers beyond that point. I am hesitant to enter as the chart shows a very shallow channel, from 5 – 10 feet for about a mile. I need 5.5 feet. Reached harbormaster on the radio and he wants to send me back to Cayo Guillermo where they have a deeper channel but no fuel. Not a solution as I need fuel. Motoring into the wind consumes much fuel. Finally, a fishing boat brings a guide for me, who helps me run aground! Stayed there until high tide, then on in to the marina. Nice marina, but not much good if can’t get there except at high tide. And with a guide? Repair navigation lights and replace racor fuel filter.

Tuesday July 3 – 4. Waited for high tide an 1800 to depart. Followed guide in outboard, whose motor quits at just the point where the channel sticks change (I think) from starboard to port. The current is too strong and the channel is too narrow for me to stop. Fortunately, I guess right on the sticks and he gets his outboard running. At the marina, we haggled over the price of the fuel. I won the battle (from his asking price of 72 cents a liter to 60 cents, which is the prevailing price in most of the marinas) but may have lost the war. Very soon I notice the fuel gauge is showing less than full. Did he compensate for the reduced price by giving me less fuel? At any rate, if the winds continue, I will have to make another unscheduled stop. Of course they continue through the night and all day July 4. For the first time sailing the Caribbean I experience actual rolling swells, 9 – 10 feet, but better than the previous day’s 7 ft chop. But by midday on our National Birthday I am tired of it and stop at Bahia Neuvita for sleep and fuel. Anchor close by to La Guarda post, with the promise that fuel will be delivered tomorrow.

Thursday July 5 – 6. Fuel not delivered until following day, about 1100. A charter boat transfers fuel from his boat to mine using a dirty 6 gal jerry can. Hopefully, my Baja filter caught the dirt and water. Under way by noon.

Saturday July 7 – 10. Arrived just after sunup. Tried to anchor near the commercial dock but the authorities wanted me in the Marina. It is becoming more and more difficult to anchor out when there is a for-profit marina nearby. Here I learn that for ½ the price I could have anchored near the Marina, which I would have done if I had been here longer. Ernestina is the PR person, the same lady who had been aboard the Sirius II in nearby Bahia Naranja (now a wildlife reserve) in 1999 when I went swimming after my dinghy. For details, see my story Cuba, a Circumnavigation. She remembers, and is still chuckling.

I call Cari as soon as possible and learn that they are expecting me yesterday, Bridget is already there, and she is leaving tomorrow by bus for Havana. Considering all this, instead of hitchhiking the 30 miles to Holguin, I take a taxi through the beautiful countryside to Holguin. Again I stay across the street at Senora Isabel’s century-old Spanish style home. During my stay, Cari’s abuela passes away and our visit is somewhat muted. (Her funeral is within 24 hours and the custom is that the entire family stays with the body until it is buried.)

I am able to visit with Mercedes again and go to visit the family of Mariane, and, surprise, surprise, Mariane herself. As usual, getting information from Mariane is like pulling teeth, but cousin Esther informs me that Mariane is on the list to immigrate to the United States again and Indeed has a departure date of August 8. I’ll never figure this out. Anyway, I give her Russ’s phone number, Renate’s phone number and my cell phone number that will be reactivated sometime in November. So, be prepared. Or not.

Wednesday July 11. Returned to Marina at Vita, to be greeted by John and Sara (Sebastian) and to discover a break in the fresh water line in the bilge just behind the mast. This line has broken before so this time I add a longer piece of plastic hose, which I just happen to have. Check out and underway before nightfall.

Thursday July 12. Arrived a Baracoa at midday for last chance for fuel and sleep. Anchor out with the fishing fleet.

Friday July 13. Double whammy. No real hurry to leave, as my early morning arrival in Manzanillo, the Dominican Republic calls for a sundown departure. But El Capitan is nervous about me in the middle of the fishing fleet, so leave about noon. The wind is still out of the east, but my direction now is more southeast. Sailed for 3 hours to Ensenada Mata where I drop the hook for lunch. A Guarda in a commandeered fishing boat awakens me from my siesta with a one-cylinder diesel motor. I assure him that I am not staying here and will be underway before sundown.

Sail for 3 – 4 hours on a tack straightaway from land, toward the Bahamas, then motor through the night in the diminishing winds. Raised sails at sunup and sailed the entire day and into the night. What a beautiful day! But a problem: I am moving too fast and will arrive at Manzanillo before daylight. Sometimes problems have a way of solving themselves. Not always to my liking.

-First, the Hispaniola nighttime offshore winds never develop and I engage the motor for a slow motor sail.

-Second, the motor dies and we sail toward Haiti while I change the racor fuel filter and bleed the fuel line.

-Third, I realize that the distance-to-destination that I have been using is some 10 or 15 miles short, having based it on estimated data that I used while programming my new GPS—a Garmin GPSMap 162. A wonderful toy. In fact, this instrument was showing me my error all along. I was just not cognizant of it. So now I have to increase speed to ensure arrival in Manzanillo Bay before 0900, at which time the midday winds are supposed to make the Bay almost impassable.

-Finally, a sudden drop in engine rpm’s tells me that I have a dirty fuel filter again, this time the engine filter. I don’t have a spare, having used the last one in Marina Hemingway.

In spite of all this, I arrive by 0930; tie up along side an old barge tied off on an old freighter along side the commercial dock. Check in is similar to procedures in Cuba, but these people have no interest in looking at (snooping through?) the contents of the boat. Total entrance fees = $20. The line helper offers to help guide me through the channel to the anchorage in Estero Balsa. First, we walk over to his home to await the incoming tide. His esposa makes coffee for us, and for the Harbormaster, also. Must be one of his perks.

Back on the Sirius II, with Jose as my guia, we head for the anchorage. Of course we run aground. Of course another boat comes to our rescue. Of course they want $100 to pull me off the sand bar. Of course I say “you silly. I’ll wait for the rising tide.” Of course they are persistent and I end up paying $20 just to get rid of them. But the anchorage is very well protected; the holding ground is good; it is very hot; and the bugs at nightfall are aplenty.

First impressions. This is not a popular tourist area and the locals, albeit friendly, seem to try harder at fleecing the few of us who do visit. I chose this as my port-of-entry because I knew that an acquaintance from Key West, Texas Billy, was here. Most of the people live essentially rent-free in nearby Pepillo Salcedo, a modernish town built by United Fruit (please recall the concept “Banana Republic”) in 1950 and deserted for political reasons 15 years later. It is my understanding that the residents have mortgage contracts, but most default.

I eat a lot of fruit here, mainly pineapples. Most be in season.

The popular national cerveza, el presidente, comes in large bottles, enough for two people. Maybe there is a social plan here.

The most common form of transportation is the moped, motoconchos, mostly Yamaha built. They have four gears and many are equipped to carry three, which means they are often used as taxis. I was the third passenger on one to the next larger town, Dajabon, on the Haitian border about 20 miles from here, where I was able to purchase new fuel filters for the diesel. (Already installed and the diesel engine is running perfectly right now. Hopefully, this is the last of the bad diesel from Bahia Neuvita, Cuba.)

There are not many bicycles here, but still coveted as they were in Cuba. I loaned mine to Jose and he immediately punctured the tire. Maybe that is the reason there aren’t many bicycles here.

What’s Next? In order to send this rather lengthy document by local e-mail, I need to drop in on a diskette. Somewhere I have some diskettes. Fianchi, the local numero uno honcho here, rents out his computer and aol connection so that I can transmit this. If all this comes to past, then the following day or so I am off to Luperon. Luperon reportedly has a rather large fleet of cruisers, many Americans, and the amenities that Americans expect. Texas Billy wants me to stay here, for hurricane protection if for no other reason. My thoughts are that if I had a gorgeous teenager, and I mean gorgeous, like Miss America, woman sharing my pad, like he has, maybe I would stay here. (And he is older and uglier than I am. What is wrong with this picture?) But I don’t. Also, after six weeks of being a minority in race, culture and language, maybe I need to be with a group of people who are mostly like me. If that is possible.

If this works, my next mail will contain a list of needed parts. I will establish an address in Luperon and stay there as long as necessary.

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