Hello from the Dominican Republic!

We are catching up on the blog as with passages and remote ports, we have had very limited internet access. We left Rum Caye for an overnight passage to Mayaguana, the southernmost island in the Bahamas and a stepping off point for passage to the Dominican Republic. We were able to sail for a bit but with winds on the nose (again!), we found ourselves mostly motoring with the iron jib. We enjoyed the light of a new moon once it got past the cat and mouse cloud game.

We arrived to Mayaguana in the afternoon and had beverages and adult swim. Skip captured a conch which are plentiful in the Bahamas. We had already received directions on removing the meat at another stop but had not yet proceeded with the experiment. Now was the time and Skip successfully rose to the challenge. Along with mahi fillets we had fresh conch for dinner.

Although a well-founded hypothesis based on prior encounters, we definitively proved that it is conch meat that makes the admiral sick. It was the freshest but last conch I will ever eat.

On Easter Sunday, after breakfast and Easter chocolates (Cadbury minis and robin’s eggs…and can someone please inform the whopper company that the sick flesh salmon color that replaced the hot pink eggs is simply inexcusable??) we went in to the very small settlement of Mayaguana. We met Gerald, a Frenchman traveling alone. He was very helpful and let us know that although the town and bar was closed, we could call out to the lady across the road who would come and open the bar for us. She did, so we bought a few beers and went back to the boat to prepare for the big passage. I precooked dinners and snacks since anything but warming up food is challenging when under way.

We left Mayaguna Monday 4/13 for the 130 mile run to the Dominican Republic. This took all day and all night Monday and Tuesday. We had clear skies, a big moon and calm seas. The bow wake made phosphorescence as we cut through the water. This is an effect of water turbulence on a specific type of plankton and it causes the plankton to light up in specks for a few seconds. It looks like fireflies in the water. As we sailed through the night, the stars came all the way to the horizon, there was a span of pitch black water, then it looked like stars again against the hull. Quite special. It was wierd to realize that we were crossing water that was 13, 123 feet deep, and even weirder when the depth sounder would suddenly register 12 feet…the effect of either a school or a very large fish passing right under us.

As we approached the DR coast, the situation changed. The winds piped up as a front screamed around the mountains, ultimately winds getting to 28 knots and seas to 12 feet, and we are trying to head into it. We’d climb the waves and then crash down the other side as they were very close. Constantly. For hours. It was bone-jarring and even though we were sailing/resting in shifts, there was no rest. We broke a reef line and the outhaul for the main during the melee, so we had to take it down. A simple repair with spares at anchor but interestingly, the ONLY 2 lines we did not replace during all our preparation. Thankfully, the brunt of it was during daylight but I am not sure if seeing the monster waves was better or worse…
Long story short, we decided that neither we nor the boat could not take the pounding for another 8 hours and that we could not make Luperon as planned. We turned south and headed into port. We were at the Haitian border (an entirely different set of concerns there) but prior research revealed a port of safety that was frequented by American yachts and considered safe. We headed into Manzanilla Bay with a huge sigh of relief and ready for sleep. And promptly ran hard aground. We set our anchor to wait for a higher tide to float off. Now, Frank is a local who acts as a concierge and guide for cruising yachts. I guess spying us from the land, he sent out a helper when the tide came up to guide us through the shallows and into the anchorage. Once we got our anchor untangled from the underwater chevy bumper around which it had wrapped itself (will this hell passage ever end??), we headed in.

Frank then came to the boat and informed us that he would bring the government officials required for check in as well and any groceries. He returned with ice and beer and 8 men who boarded our boat…customs, immigration, agriculture, drug enforcement and who knows what else. All very friendly so this went very smoothly.

Frank invited us to his home with his wife Lourdes for refreshments in the evening. We also met Joe, a crusty New Yorker who stopped 5 years ago for fuel and water and never left. We also met Lise and Marcel, cruisers from Quebec whose boat was in Luperon but had driven up to visit with Frank and Lourdes.

We left Thursday 4/16 for Luperon after a guided escort out of the very shallow bay. A cold front had stalled so the weather was incredibly calm. The hell passage waters were now gentle 2-4 feet swells with very light winds. We motored down to Luperon. The motoring will stop once we turn south from Puerto Rico.

We arrived to Luperon at dawn to a beautiful anchorage tucked in the mountains. The following are pictures of the town and and anchorage here in Luperon.

Today (Sat) we came into town and are at a bar that does laundry, has a pool, internet and great food! We loaded up the dingy with all of our dirty clothes and have "camped" out doing laundry, blogs and drinking a few beers....

Tomorrow we are taking a tour up into the mountains to see the waterfalls. Will post more on that before we leave this next week for Puerto Rico.