March 10
After an uneventful 80-mile motorsail from Big Sand Cay,
we arrive off the coast of the Dominican Republic (DR) around
5:00 A.M on Saturday morning. It's too early to enter the
tricky channel to Luperon's harbor, so we tack back and forth
near shore until sunrise. As day breaks, we carefully follow
the GPS waypoints to avoid reefs and shoals on both sides,
not to mention fish buoys in the middle of the channel. "A
third of first time visitors run aground before anchoring,"
says our Wavey Line chart. Chris on MoonSail, already
anchored here for two weeks, comes up on the radio and advises
us on how to avoid the shallow spots and pick a place to drop
the hook.
Anchoring in Luperon is a bit tricky and unorthodox. As Bruce
Van Sant explains in his popular cruising guide, you must
enter Luperon before the trade winds start to howl around
9:00 A.M. However, at this early hour, boats in the anchorage
are not pointed toward the prevailing easterly wind. To ensure
that your anchor will hold later, you must turn your boat
toward the east and set the anchor, even though the surrounding
boats are pointed in another direction. It's a bit confusing.
Shortly after setting our anchor, we find ourselves stern-to-stern
with MoonSail. The boats are all pointed in different
directions in the early morning calm. This morning mayhem
is repeated daily throughout our stay in Luperon.
We soon make the acquaintance of Papo, who arrives at our
boat with a Dominican courtesy flag for $10US. He tells us
that he is Handy Andy's sidekick, the boaters' contact for
fuel, water, and other necessities. Soon thereafter Handy
Andy himself, the local commandancia, and an assistant board
our boat. While the commandancia and his assistant fill out
paperwork, Handy Andy acts as an interpreter and touts his
own services. He also suggests that a "voluntary donation"
be made to the commandancia to cover the cost of fuel for
their visit.
After a short nap, we head to town and meet the immigration
authority, who completes more paperwork and collects $25.
The port authority official has gone for the day, so we'll
have to return on Monday to pay that fee. We have an appointment
at 2:00 for the agricultural officials to come to our boat.
We have just enough time to meet Paul and Jane for lunch at
Steve's Place. Steve is an American expatriate who married
Annie, a local woman, and opened a restaurant that is a popular
cruiser hangout. Cheap beer and food make the DR a favorite
stop for cruising boats, so we enjoy a great lunch with much
less pain to the pocketbook than we've experienced in the
Bahamas. A 22-ounce grande Presidente, the national brew,
is only about $2.50US. In the Bahamas, we paid up to $5 for
a 12-ounce beer.
After returning to the boat, we welcome aboard our second
set of visitors. The agricultural folks collect $20 and inspect
Dakota's rabies certificate, and we pay another $20 for tourist
cards. Finally all is done and there's time for another short
nap before meeting MoonSail, Sol y Mar, Lone
Star, and Perseverance at the Luperon Yacht Club
for dinner. These boats all left George Town a few weeks ahead
of us and know what's what in the area. After returning to
the boat, we sleep like rocks in a boat that finally doesn't
roll.
March 11
A refreshing rain settles in on Sunday morning, and we spend
the day resting and doing a few boat chores.
March 12
On Monday, we return to town to pay the $11 port fee. We
need cash because credit cards and traveler's checks are not
accepted at local businesses. The town's sole ATM machine
doesn't work, so Nick trades some travelers checks for pesos
at the Verizon store. Here you can exchange money, make a
phone call, access the Internet, or get a body massage. In
the islands, you often find strange business combinations.
We spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing at Steve's Place
with the other boaters.
March 13
We need more money for all the cheap beer and food we're
buying, so a trip to the bank in Imbert is required. For the
cost of a beer, we take a guaga to the town about 20 miles
away. A guaga is a mini-van that is crammed with as many passengers
as can fit, plus a few more. Following Van Sant's advise,
we sit in the front seat by the driver where there is better
air flow and less crowding. The guaga races down the narrow
blacktop road at 80 mph, dodging cattle, goats, pigs, and
small children along the way.
In Imbert, we enter the local bank and are told to remove
hats and sunglasses so the security camera can get a good
look at us. The teller seems nervous. With the help of a Spanish-English
dictionary, we manage to procure $300US in pesos. Nick carries
the lump of bills in his short's pocket rather than the backpack
to deter any potential pickpocket.
The town is dirty and noisy with a constant line of motorcycles
racing down the streets. Careful timing and bravado are required
to cross the street. At a local restaurant, we each have a
barbecue chicken lunch and share a Grande for about $8US.
Then it's back to the guaga for the white-knuckle trip to
Luperon. On the return trip, I notice a sign advertising "Car
Wash. Cocktails. Disco." Another bizarre business venture.
March 14
Anticipating a departure on Friday, we call Handy Andy on
Wednesday morning and arrange for prop cleaning, fuel, and
water (oh yeah, the recently rebuilt watermaker died at Big
Sand Cay).
Tonight is movie night at a local restaurant. The feature
is The Da Vinci Code, which is projected on a large
screen in a comfortable outdoor dining room. The film is obviously
a black-market reproduction. The subtitle choices are Chinese,
Russian, Thai, and English. Based on the English subtitles,
a deaf person would think the movie was about the "Holy
Grill." (Once Nick realizes this is not really the story
line, he loses interest.) The audio and video quality are
poor and the subtitle translation is totally botched. It's
best not to read them since the movie is confusing enough.
The food is delicious and everyone has a great time, but those
who hadn't read the book leave wondering what the heck really
happened.
March 15
Thursday morning brings the chilliest weather we've had in
a long time. A hot steamy day would be preferable since we're
going to the waterfalls today. Ten of us hire a private guaga
and make an early morning trip to the waterfalls near Imbert.
Accompanied by two agile guides, we all hike across rocky
creek beds to the base of the waterfalls.
Five of us continue with the guides to climb and swim up
the first seven of the waterfalls. After wading or swimming
up to the base of a waterfall, the guide will say something
like: "Put your left foot here" (pointing to a slippery
place under a stream of water) "put your right foot there"
(another precarious spot) "and give me your right hand."
Then, with a waterfall splashing in your face and praying
the guide doesn't let go, you suddenly find yourself rising
above the torrent of water. The process is repeated seven
times.
The early morning is cool and the sun doesn't penetrate the
tree canopy, so I'm already shivering at the first fall. By
the seventh, I'm shaking uncontrollably. Luckily the trip
down the falls is much easier. You sit at the edge of the
dropoff, cross your arms over your chest, lean forward, and...
whoosh...down you go into the pool below. At the base of the
falls, the other ladies come to the rescue of the shivering,
blue girl who comes running toward them on wobbly legs. Soon
I'm wearing a long-sleeve shirt, wrapped in a towel, and slowly
starting to defrost. Nick, on the other hand, climbs back
up for a second jump off the last waterfall.
We're back in Luperon by noon and decide to have lunch at
the marina. As we approach the dinghy dock, another boater
yells that a boat near us is dragging anchor. Several of us
race back to our boats and see that the dragging boat is Shian.
Some other boaters are already aboard to secure the anchor.
Fortunately, she's slid into an empty space between two other
boats. We hurry into town on a hunch that Paul and Jane might
be at Steve's restaurant. Sure enough, they are, and we give
them the startling news that their boat, anchored securely
for almost a week now, has decided to relocate herself without
the captain's permission. It's quite disconcerting when anchors
that have been set for days suddenly let loose. But it's happened
to us and to a number of other boaters we know. We always
breathe a sigh of relief when we return to Caribbean Soul
and find her in the same spot.
That evening we make our final preparations for the big trip
tomorrow. We'll be leaving Luperon for Puerto Rico, a trip
that will involve crossing the infamous Mona Passage.
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In the early morning calm, anchored boats
face different directions.
New arrivals must set anchor to the east where the trade winds
blow
in the afternoon.
Deanna in front of Port Authority building.
The harbor in Luperon is protected on all
sides and surrounded by
mangroves--an excellent hurricane hole.
Cruisers relaxing at Steve's Place.
Smiley is a local dog that has adopted the
cruisers. She'll meet you at
the end of the pier with a "smile" on her face and
a happy greeting
"Arrr Arrr Arrr." Here she is sleeping under a table
at Steve's.
The guaga takes passengers from Luperon to
Imbert. How many
passengers can it hold? As many as are willing to pay.
This friendly little girl road the guaga
to her school
and was eager to pose for a picture.
Cattle being driven down the road.
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