Porto Rico to Bahamas

With every good intention on Mike’s part to leave Viesques (Spanish VI’s) early he overslept in this amazingly peaceful anchorage and didn’t get underway till 7am! So I hardly missed any of today’s sail to Salinas, downwind, poled out. I saw what looked like the snout of a hippo coming out of the water – which apparently was a manatee!

 The old gate for dignitaries to enter by, St John’s Gate and, allegedly, HMS Bounty, flying an American flag!

At Ponce, we went ashore and, after a futile search for a taxi, started hitching, a minute later a pickup truck stopped. We started to like this place. Unfortunately, by the time he’d dropped us off at the Customs House we’d changed our minds! His 2 new propellers had been nicked off his boat in the boatyard last night and somebody had their outboard stolen last week and  “you really don’t want to go to the town in the evening cos of drugs gangs and knife fights”! Thanked him for the lift and then started worrying about leaving RT at the anchorage as we were the only boat there.

 In the Customs House there wasn’t better news. Apparently, you can’t clear out of USA at Porto Rico unless you cleared in there and “the fine could be $5000 and were we sure we didn’t have any firearms on board?”! And why hadn’t we got a copy of our clearance-in document from St Johns? Because they hadn’t given us one. And how much did we pay there – Nothing. And what was the name of the Immigration guy who’d told us this was OK – Never  asked! After disappearing back into his office with our passports and boat papers he finally emerges to say if we pay $56 we can clear out of USA and clear in again in Fort Lauderdale. Thank you very much, Sir, we say, backing out gracefully touching our forelocks and could you possibly get us a taxi pretty please? Having been left to stew in the corridor for a long time we had decided, (since we were still about 5 miles from town) to go back to RT to make sure we hadn’t been broken into and see Ponce with a hire car from Salinas when we were next in PR on our back South.

   

Next day set off with intermittent wind and various sail configurations interspersed with motoring to lovely quiet anchorage off Gilligan’s Island some 15nms west of Ponce and then on to Boqueron. Seems nice enough although we’ve been spoilt the last 2 nights with peace and quiet anchorages and we arrived to loud music here. Must be getting old!

The town was very pretty but mostly shut –think it might look better in the evening. On the way there we stopped to talk to some people on an American boat – not PLU, but thought they might have some info on Dominican Republic. They did and “lots of tales of the sea, come over for a rum this evening and I’ll tell you them!” They had a British couple staying on their boat apparently ashore at the time. Later, back on RT said British couple come over and tell us everything they know about DR and Bahamas and Florida and repeat invite for rum late. Luckily, rain stopped play and, as we didn’t want to go to theirs for drinks, but couldn’t therefore go into town for dinner because we’d have to pass their boat and it would seem rude, we stayed aboard!

 

On to Samana on Dominican Republic (DR) against the advice of yesterday’s American encounter! Inevitably, a US Coastguard boat called us up and wants loads of info and tells us he’s going to follow us for a while, coming back on the radio after 10 minutes to “wish you a nice day, Ma’am!” Obviously, we must have passed some test or other!

      

Back to dinghy where our tout heads us off and we tell him we’ve read the guide book and we shouldn’t have had to pay yesterday for the $35 anchoring fee or the $10 to the “Customs”. He insisted he had done a good job for us and that the Canadian couple had refused to pay and they now had “big problems”! Gave him £10 and left. The Canadians then passed by saying that they hadn’t had to pay the charge as they had argued it was against the law. Live and learn.

Haitis Bay in the National Park. Passed a pair of leaping dolphins on the way. (Have virtually stopped mentioning dolphins in this blog as we are getting a bit blasé about seeing them!)

      

This is the quietest place I have ever been – apart from occasional birdcalls. Disturbed only by a few dolphins and a little motor boat with 4 “rangers” none of who spoke English but we managed. We gave them $7 for our Park Permit  and we have a receipt to prove it!

As usual, Mike was up early – 3.30am – to get us underway to Grand Turk. By 8.30 when I get up, we’ve hardly budged and DR still looks very close and it’s been raining so I don’t think he’s a happy skipper!

During the day, the wind covers 180 degrees of direction which made sail-setting impossible and at times dropped away completely so the engine was on several times. We finally spotted the island just as the sun was setting – although we couldn’t see that either because of the clouds. We did spot about 10 small dolphins leaping high above the waves together –very acrobatic. Mike is starting to make noises about sailing on overnight to Provodenciales (Provo) Island and I am preparing to cry in order to change his mind! There are 2 or 3 other boats anchored in the anchorage, mercifully, so we steam towards the beach. The depths till we are very close to the shore are still off the scale but very soon the seabed starts rising rapidly. Anchor in 4.5 metres. They call it “the wall” amongst the diving fraternity.

Met another UK yacht heading North, containing Pepe and Bear (Steve) who came over for laughs and sundowners and left the next morning for South Caicos but expect we will see them again in  Provo or points North.

Arrived Turtle Cove, Provo early morning. Tied up on the Customs dock and waited for the Customs Officer to arrive. Meanwhile it pours down! He turns up at 12, we are finished by 12.30. Nice man, the same cannot be said for the marina manager, Carol, who is a sour-faced old bag. We have to pay $5 for water and $15 for electricity per day regardless of whether we use it. We don’t want water with chlorine in our tanks and they don’t have an adapter for the elec so we cant get any elec even if we’d wanted it! She’s not giving an inch and is equally unhelpful with the laundry as they don’t have one on site – not what it says in the book either! However, they have a book swap and give us the number for a car hire  - who doesn’t have any cars available! As usual, for us, it will be nice when its finished – meanwhile the witch operates from a portacabin in the middle of a rain-soaked sandy mass which will one day be a lovely development. We get the key to the shower, which turns out to be the only shower shared with the dive club so I have first secluded shower for a couple of months while Mike goes back to catch up on some sleep.

We go out to dinner and pre-dinner beers as it’s St Patrick’s Day and do actually hear a couple of Irish accents in the restaurant. They give us green metallic bead necklaces to get us in the mood! Mike’s meal arrives without the fish attached – just potatoes and Caesar salad- so we eat separately while he waits for his to arrive! Hey Ho!

Hitching the next morning, nice man picks us up – an ex-cop apparently- and drops us off at the supermarket, which is like a real supermarket with lighting and everything! Hello America! We spend far too much money on not a lot and get a jitney back to the marina. I’d read about getting a jitney in the pilot book but didn’t know what it was, expecting some elaborate highly painted bus similar to the mad-buses of Grenada. What it actually is a very dilapidated old saloon car taxi with no back suspension!

Uneventful sail ensured we got inside the reef at Mayaguana. Very irritating short chop in the anchorage made for an unsettled night where both of us spent most of the night sleeping in the saloon. The only other boat there, a Canadian, had left just after we arrived – think he knew it was going to be uncomfortable!

 

The next morning, we are rounding the top of long Island ready to run down to Georgetown, when squalls overcome us. These built up big seas, resulting in us not being to be able to get into Georgetown, as it was way too rough to enter. I think what did it for me was when Mike said, “If we try and get in here we could damage the boat and/or kill ourselves”. Still not sure which of those options had the potential to upset him more! Work out the course to Cat Island as an alternativeand it’s 40 miles to windward which means that we are looking at midnight before we can be anchored, so lovely fish that we caught yesterday is on hold again and I’m trying to think of something easy to cook as we head out into a big lumpy sea and the sun fades away. Mike is admirable as he takes direct hits from about 3 waves as they skilfully enter the cockpit between the hood and the bimini. Finally, it is decided that I have picked the driest bit to sit in and I’m despatched below so Mike can have the seat. I finally realised that, I’m definitely only a day sailor, Night-sailing scares the s**t out of me as we crash down in between each wave. The only mitigating circumstances (in this life I thought I wanted) is that RT feels and is so solid, that, barring our mistakes she will see us safely through most things. But, more importantly, without Mike’s grounded sensible approach to all things, and stoically (and reassuringly) putting up with me, I would have packed this in long ago. As we drop the sails off Cat Island we motor into the wind for about 4 miles as we don’t know the depths of the bay, and both stay awake (bearing in mind he’s probably only had about 3 hours sleep in the last 24) for 2 hours as the sea is pushing us back. Finally, we decide to drop the anchor, in 5.5metres and sleep in the saloon as the chop from the sea makes our cabin sound like a thunder box and a massive dark brown mottled moth makes me believe it’s a bat in the saloon. Clever use of torch as alternative light source held by Mike guides it out of the boat.

 Fernandez bay for some shelter from the wind as the direction has changed and anchor off 2 little islands looking wistfully at a little bay with a beach and a restaurant that just looks a bit too small and shallow for us. By early evening, we have up-anchored and set off for God knows where as the angle has changed again and the forecast says the wind is going to strengthen. By 8pm, the wind has dropped away and we are agreed we are going to turn round and head back for the night.

Smith Town. The cut into the harbour looks too shallow so we anchor off.  Mike blows up the dinghy and sets off for the Customs office leaving me to man the boat. Oh Lawd! 5 minutes later, he’s back – the Customs lady (who he has started to hate) wants us to tie up to her dock, Mike declines so she agrees that instead we can anchor in the harbour because she can’t see us from her office and “won’t get off her fat arse to look out the window!” So we move through the tiny cut – as it turns out, with 2 metres under the keel- and anchor inside. He goes ashore again. About half an hour later, he comes out of the office, gets in a car and drives off!   

Not sure what to think at this point but am in charge of making sure we don’t swing round and bump the rudder so maintain my position! Another half an hour or so later, he returns, goes back into the office and finally returns to boat after only 90 minutes away! Turns out the lady needed her clearance-in money of $300 in cash, so lent him her car to drive to the bank. Whilst there, he takes advantage of the car to get some much needed fresh provisions in. So not such a nasty lady after all! We motor back round the corner, to Fernandez Bay, where we now feel brave enough to enter the little bay with the restaurant. Ashore in the evening, for rum punch and top-ups, including trays of conch (conk) fritters. Met a lovely couple, Erin and Smokey, who we discussed “living the dream” with, while they vacationed. Would love to hear their tale in the future – wonder if they’ll do it! Photo below taken by them whilst we were “sun-downing”