Tales of the Itinerant Sailor

Cruising 2011

The Little Ship that Couldn't

By

Steven Jones  

Part I

A brief review:  As is my custom, after my work season was over, I spent some time on maintenance and hurricane preparation for the HB Rejoyce in Key West, FL.  Then it was time to return to what I enjoy most:  Sailing.  No sooner had I booked a flight to the Dominican Republic when I learned of the death of a very dear friend and gracious lady, Barbara Guilfoil.  A few days later I received information that a Memorial Service was scheduled for Sunday May 15, in Olympia, Washington, 3,700 miles away.  In the opposite direction.  Attend?  Out of the question.[1]

Then, I begin to put things in a realistic perspective.  Why not go?  I have the money.  My sailing schedule is not carved in stone.  I have the time.  Besides, I have family and friends nearby, whom I have not seen for a while.  I get on the phone with American Airlines.  They are willing to work with me as this is a benevolence flight, and the extra cost is very minimal.

I go.  And I am very glad I did.

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And so it is.  After a red eye flight from Seattle, I arrive in the Dominican Republic on Friday May 20.  I spend the next few days with Carmen Rosa, her family, her extended family and friends.   On Tuesday April 24 Carmen Rosa takes me to the North Coast, to Luperon, the home base for the s/v Sirius II for the last two years.

As you may have guessed from the title, I don’t do much sailing in this episode of the 2011 season.  So, I will be sharing some of my land/cultural observations and experiences within the cruising community, a culture in and of itself.

We arrive at Puerto Blanco Marina about 7:00 p.m., hoping to get a dinghy ride out to the Sirius II.  No one about.  We go to Wendy’s in the town of Luperon.  There we find several cruisers watching the Tuesday Night Movie, including Lynne Bourne (Suits Us), who graciously offers to take us out to the Sirius II—after the movie.  Fair enough.  Gives us time to enjoy a cervesa—Bohemia grande.  Ice cold, as advertised by Wendy’s Bob.

Oops, while flushing out the head I break the pump handle for the toilet.  This was an omen for things to come, but I didn’t know it.  I was able to make a temporary repair but still need a new part, which I order over the internet.  Interestingly, when it did come, I found the temporary repair still holding fast and am now keeping the new part in reserve.

Some changes in Luperon since my last visit.  Mac’s blue ketch, Journey, has been towed out of the mangroves and relocated on a buoy.  But it might be too late.  The boat is slowly falling apart.  Mac is a legendary figure around Bahia Luperon, already a familiar face when I was here the first time in 2001.  He was nearly a part of the fixtures at Puerto Blanco, usually the first person you saw when walking into the restaurant.  But his health has been failing the last several years, coupled with foot and leg problems.  Finally, a sister took him back to the States for some supervised care.

Incidentally, running your boat as close as possible to the mangroves, tying off the bow there, then placing two anchors astern is the recommended way to secure a boat for hurricanes.  There are several boats like that right now, whose owners have returned to their home base for the duration of the hurricane season.

The Yacht Club is now reopened under new management, but is patronized mainly by Dominicans.  Shaggy’s is now JR’s Restaurant and Sean (Shaggy) now works for the new marina, Tropical Marine.  This new marina actually has a haul-out service, the only one in Luperon.  The streets are still torn up, the result of installing new sewer and run off drains begun nearly two years ago. 

JR’s, with the help of Wendy’s, has put together a fund raising drive to rebuild the dinghy dock at the government pier, for at least the third time since I have been coming here.  This was after Gina from Mello Moon, slips and breaks her leg in two places.

Before I leave to return to Florida I am able to use this new dinghy dock, but it was not build with monies donated by the cruisers.  At the last moment, the Dominican government sent a crew from Santo Domingo to build a new dinghy dock.  Why now?  Who knows for sure.  Perhaps because next year is an election year in the Dominican Republic.  Maybe the local Luperon government petitioned for help as they felt guilty about not building a new dock themselves.  The marina collects $20 a month from each cruising boat at anchor in the bahia.  This money is supposed to be used for maintenance such as this.  Where does this money go?  We will never know for sure, but I suspect it does not go into the public coffers.

Puerto Blanco Marina traditionally has provided many services for the cruising community.  It is convenient to buy drinking water and ice here, although these are available in the town as well. Every Sunday morning they allow cruisers and vendors to use their facilities for a Swap Meet.  Other special events are held from time to time.  Poker tournaments and, yes, even pinochle matches have been scheduled. Trivial Pursuit used to be scheduled for every Thursday night; now it is every other Wednesday at JR’s.  Also, cruisers typically have been able to get water to use for cooking and showers here; now it is available only sporadically.

I share all of this with you as these are typical of the services/activities found anywhere there are a large number of cruisers in one area.  Plus a VHS radio net daily or weekly for the cruising community to share information, news and safety concerns.

Otherwise, the number of cruisers at anchor in Bahia Luperon is down and it is a very slow tourist season for Luperon, adding to the woes of the economy.[2]

The omen continues.  A day or two after the head handle problem (thank goodness, we didn’t have to use a bucket), when I start up the diesel engine for the first time to charge the batteries, I immediately notice that there is no water coming out with the exhaust.  Marine engines are typically fresh water cooled, but the fresh water is cooled with sea water—as opposed to air through a radiator as in the case of automobiles.  There are four possible causes for this, and of course it is the last one that I check:  The sea water pump is frozen solid.  “Frozen” might not be an appropriate word to use in a tropical environment, but you get the point.

Yanmar, the manufacturer, no longer makes repair kits for this pump, and it is not possible to buy a new pump from them.  I have to go through a dealer.  From my dealer in Key West, it will cost nearly $400 with freight and custom’s charges.  But I hear about a Yanmar dealer in Santo Domingo who might be able to help or repair this pump.  So, to Santo Domingo we go, to B & R Marine in the commercial district of Santo Domingo, where the mechanic/technician Umberto assures me that this is repairable, and he has the parts in stock!  In the end I also buy a new pump that he finds on the internet and the total cost is less than what I found through normal channels.  I am well pleased.

Omen #3.  The GPS that I installed last year in the cockpit is not working.  The power cable is corroded.  The pinhole electrical connection is so small that I can’t clean it.  Rafael, one of the local Dominicans who provide services to cruisers, refers me to a friend in Santiago (nearly two hours away) who might be able to help.  And he does.  He cleans and solders a new connection and the GPS is working again!

Now, with all mechanical problems tended to, head sail unfurled (i.e., taken out of the cabin where I store it and affixed to the furling system), the Sirius II is ready for a sea trial.  This we do on June 8.  First, I really enjoy being able to guide the boat through the channel without leaving the cockpit, relying on the GPS in the cockpit.  Much easier, and safer, than trying to peer down into the cabin to see the chart on the laptop.

Initially, the auto pilot is erratic, but after a few adjustments it seems to behave better.  (Later I learn from Carmen, who was at the wheel nearly the entire trial, the auto pilot continued to misbehave:  She was just better able to make manual corrections without me realizing it).  I spend the next several minutes on the fore deck adjusting lines, preparing the whisker pole, etc.  When I do leave on this journey, I will be going west, with the wind, sailing a broad reach.  I will need the aide of the whisker pole to keep the head sail in place.

Omen #4. On the way back to Luperon, under power into the wind, the engine overheats. Opening the hatch to allow more air into the engine compartment cools the engine, but the cause puzzles me. There appears to be sufficient sea water coming out of the exhaust. Surely, I properly adjusted the belts when I installed the new water pump.

Yes, I did. The problem is at the Y connection at the end of the exhaust manifold where the sea water mixes with the exhaust. A build up of carbon and corrosion. So, with a hammer and chisel, and sulfuric acid, I clean out the corrosion. Idling the engine for long periods of time, such as charging the house batteries, contributes to this build up. Now, the Sirius II is in business again.

Now, I spend time watching and waiting, and of course socializing, here and in Santo Domingo.  Initially, I am content to wait, but as the weeks fly by, deeper into hurricane season, I get a little antsy.

Bahia Luperon is an interesting location.  The Bay itself is very well protected from storms, with a good holding ground and high ground all around.  But the whole north coast of Hispaniola is subject to very strong Trade Winds, beginning about 9:00 in the morning and lasting to sun down.  Additionally, any storm out in the North Atlantic will cause high waves to break on the Island.  This makes just getting out of the harbor a challenge.  This is what is going on now and for the next two months.

Whereas most of the cruising boats here are waiting to go east, to Puerto Rico and beyond, my goal is to go west, perhaps back to the Rio Dulce (Guatemala) or to Panama.  If the truth were known, there are several weather openings for me to go west.  But, I am looking for ideal weather.   I plan to stop in Jamaica, Cuba, Mexico, Belize and maybe Roatan (Honduras).  I plan to do a solo cruise.

On Friday July 15, two years after arriving here, I am ready, the Sirius II is ready(??) and I have a weather window.  Of course sailors never begin a voyage on a Friday, so I spend the day getting last minute supplies and checking out with the authorities.  Once you are cleared to go, the navy wants you out before night fall.  Security, they say.

I depart the next day at sunup.  Winds calm; sky clear.  I motor for a spell and raise sails as winds pick up.  So far, very enjoyable and all systems are behaving.  Later in the morning, with the Trade Winds about their normal 15 – 25 knots, the auto pilot begins to malfunction;  can’t hold the course.  I am constantly making adjustments. 

As evening approaches, I choose to go into the industrial port of Manzanillo, a large, open bay just on the border with Haiti.  I share the port with a banana boat, loading cargo for Belgium.

The next morning I re-read the manual for the auto pilot, a product of Raymarine, an American company.  I do this; I do that.  By noon I decide that I have done all I can.  I will leave at sunset, with a course toward Santiago, Cuba (I have given up on Jamaica) if the auto pilot works; back to Luperon if it does not.

You know the rest of the story.  Well, maybe not all of it.  Within two hours of steering by hand, I make the turn to go back to Luperon.  It is now dark and I am completely at the mercy of my instruments.  There is no moon.  I mean, it is dark, except for flashes of lightning I see in the distance behind me.

The first four hours from Manzanillo to Montecristi are pretty treacherous—small islands, reefs and rocks.  Siete Hermanos.  I feel confident as I have been here before.  Right about in the middle of this course I see a flash of lightning and then nothing.  Scary darkness.  No light from the GPS in the cockpit; no light from the laptop in the cabin.  No navigational aids.  Apparently, the boat received some of the charge from that lightning.  My first thought (and I kid you not) is, “What would Christopher Columbus do now?”

Well, of course he had a crew to whom he could issue orders, so that is out of the question for me.  What I did do—the compass light is still working and I dutifully note the course I am on.  I know that I have to hold this course for a least the next 10 – 15 minutes.  I reduce the boat speed.  Then I try to figure out when the moon will rise.  With moonlight I might be able to see some landmarks that I can use to determine where I am.  Maybe.

I lock the wheel in place and go down into the cabin to see if the computer is still alive.  That way I can at least see my charts.  It is.  As a matter of habit, I touch the restart button on the GPS that feeds it. Eureka!  It comes on!  In a matter of seconds I can see the boat’s location on the chart.  Am I relieved?  There is no way I can express this.

Once I pass the landmark called El Moro, it is relatively clear sailing.  The trip from Mansanillo to Luperon into the wind is about 12 hours.  I am on the wheel about 11 of these 12 hours.  No coffee break.  No pee break.  No sleep.

I arrive back at the channel to Bahia Luperon shortly after daybreak.  Brian (s/v Chinook) comes over in his dinghy to help me tie up to the mooring buoy, just as the trade winds are starting to take over the anchorage.  Then, it is a matter of checking back in with the authorities and explaining to the rest of the cruisers why I am back where I started.

After a couple of phone calls to Raymarine, it is obvious that they can’t help me long distance.  I decide to terminate this phase of the itinerary, gather the parts to the auto steering, and take them with me back to Florida.  I secure the Sirius II for another extended absence.  Patrick from Island Dream, takes me into the (new) government dock.  He assures me that he and Darnell will keep an eye on my boat for me.

About the loss of both GPS’s apparently due to lightning:  I am not sure exactly what happened.  I have mentioned that I was able to restart the cabin GPS, but not the GPS in the cockpit.  This one has an in-line fuse and I assumed that was broken.  Later, when I went to replace it, the fuse was OK!  So, what did happen?   Maybe there is something to the Bermuda Triangle stories.  Anyway, I re-wired the GPS so that if I need to replace the fuse in the future, it is more assessable.

So ends Part I of the 2011 episode of the voyages of the Itinerant Sailor.

Cruising 2011: The Little Ship that Couldn't
Copyright © 2011 Steven Jones. All Rights Reserved.
Contact: siriusii@hotmail.com