Haiti

Trippwire
Mon 12 Apr 2010 23:43
The next passage was a 350 mile trip up to Cuba, which
would take us 2 1/2
days, however, we had a problem. With the weather systems we described above, it was impossible to find a weather window that was large enough to get west; this was exacerbated by the fact that the systems were coming from the west, and so as we headed west, we shortened the time between the fronts. On doing the research, I thought that we might be able to get to the very edge of the Dominican Republic and shelter up in a mangrove swamp that I had seen from the charts. This would get us 70 miles or so further on, but still did not really give us a long enough weather window, however, my biggest concern was that there were lots of reports of Haitians coming across the boarder with any means possible, and given that we would be anchored only 3 miles or so from the Haitian boarder for the best part of 24 hours, I was a little concerned. We had heard many stories of yachts being boarded and at best being ransacked on the coast of Haiti, and so we were understandably a little nervous. I sought out the marina manager, who in turn suggested that I go to speak to a boat that had delivered aid into Haiti a couple of times. So, off I marched to speak to the skipper of a motor yacht called the 'jesus gypsy', who had gone in to a couple of bays in Haiti to deliver aid. He suggested that there was a bay on the top north west tip of Haiti that was a Christian community, and that when he went in with the aid, he was perfectly safe. He gave the name and mobile number of a 'pastor kenna', who, if we went there and had issues, would help us out. So, with no small degree of apprehension, we decided to head off to Mole, sit it out whilst a front went through and then head on our way to Haiti. We crossed the Haitian boarder in the dead of night, and, keeping 10 miles or so off the coast ran parallel to it, but keeping a very good lookout for any potential boats that could board us. As the dawn rose, we came up to an island with the forbidding name of Ile du Tortue, and we planned to take the passage between there an the mainland. Jen spotted around 4 whales 'blowing' dead ahead of us...we had been hoping to see whales along this coast line, which is their breeding area; sadly they dived before we got to them. As we came into the passage, we started to see the odd sail on the horizon, which turned into many sails....not, as we thought, cruising yachts, but as we got closer, we could see that they were local fishing boats. As we went past, many of them diverted to see us....and it was at this point that we were very nervous - if there was bad intent, this would be when we would get boarded. But, none of it...they were all amazingly smiley, and, it would seem that it was a saturday, and that most of the boats were acting as ferries and taking inhabitants from the Island to the town on the mainland. This encouraged us a lot - clearly they were not used to seeing yachts, however, they all seemed genuinely friendly. ![]() ![]() ![]() We arrived in the bay of Mole before dark, still with no uncertain degree of concern. We were clearly a novelty, as people came out of their houses to see us, some of the local fishermen rowed up to us, and we even had someone swimming out half a mile to sell us a conch shell, but all in all, they seemed friendly. I am not sure why, but perhaps most encouraging, from our anchorage, we heard sounds of a rather ropey village orchestra, who sounded like they might be practising for tomorrows church....hopefully they were religious enough not to chop us up into small pieces! So, with night approaching, I rigged up a full set of deck lights that we could quickly turn on if we heard anything, we locked ourselves in and I laid out our full arsenal of flares - the mini flares in particular being ready and armed. Night fell, and we fell into an apprehensive but very tired sleep! ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() We woke up the next morning having heard nothing all night, and,
perhaps
best of all, having not been chopped up into small pieces! The next morning we were rowed past many times by the fishermen in the bay...most of whom were rather less interested in us, but by our hugely tall mast! We thought that our best bet would be to contact Pastor Kenna, but his mobile number that we had been given by the 'jesus gypsy' did not work, and having heard church bells, it would seem that he was at work, given that it was a sunday. Whilst sorting the boat out, we were hailed by a local boat, who had the local police and some form of local immigration with them. We were expecting to be fleeced for large amounts of money, and in particular were warned that in Cap Haitian (the town that we sailed past), that they would expect more than $200 in bribe money. They brought an interpreter along who spoke very basic english, and in our pigeon french, we were able to communicate. They proved to be absolutely charming - it turns out that the only thing that they were most keen for us to do was to tell the rest of the cruising community what a lovely bay it was, and to come along to visit - clearly we were the first sailing boat into the village in a very long time. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() We bargained for a lift onto land by one of the local fishermen (on the basis that we thought that even if we locked our dinghy up, it would be unlikely to be there when we got back!), who rowed us with his 3 other assistants. It was our intention to meet Pastor Kenna, who would give us a safe tour around the local village. It turns out that he was still on god duty, and so we asked the fisherman to show us around. Contrary to all our previous fears, everyone was fantastically friendly, and whilst we were a bit of a novelty (particularly with the local kids), we were either smiled at or ignored. The population of Mole had a very basic life which reminded me of a rural African village - not a Caribbean island that was only a few hundred miles from the US. It seemed that their main source of income was through charcoal trading. We had seen a few fires on the hillsides as we sailed along the coast line, and it now became clear that they were for charcoal smoking. These were bought down by donkey to the village, who stocked up their boats to the very brim, and sailed them down to Port au Prince where they traded them. ![]() ![]() ![]() We were able to see many of the local fishing boats, several of
which
were beached. To repair their boats, they were dragged up the beach with a block and tackle. They were all fashioned from the local wood, whose planks were carved out literally by a saw and axe. We saw one being repaired, with a plank being replaced. They were caulking it with nylon caulking, which seemed to have come from unthreaded nylon jumper, which was then sealed with pitch when finished. It would seem that fuel is such a rarity/expense that it does not warrant use. In one of the classic case of horrendously misguided aid, we saw 5 or 6 yellow motor boats which looked to be brand new on the beach. When we spoke to the fisherman giving us the guided tour, it seems that they were given to them by a local charity, and that they had also given large engines that were locked in a shed by the beach....probably £100k plus of equipment....but they had never and would never be used because the fuel was just too expensive...why use fuel when you can use the wind! Boat repair the old way!
![]() The yellow boats are brand new and donated misguidedly
by a christian charity
![]() As the front came in, we moved to a safer anchorage 1/2 a mile into the beautiful bay. This was opposite an even more rural village, and we were clearly a source of excitement. One fisherman came by offering us lobster.....we bought 2 for $5....I suspect more than we needed to pay, but they were all so fantastically friendly and pleased to see us, that one was more than happy to help them in probably the best way we could. So, if anyone is reading this and planning on a Caribbean tour, I can very much recommend Mole in Haiti - it will give you an experience like no other, and at the moment, they are very keen to see you, and you certainly will not get chopped up!! ![]() Random cannon buried in the village beach
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