Cruising in company with Kundalini

There were several boats we knew in the anchorage off the big marina complex at Palmas Del Mar. A Dufour 35 “Kundalini” belonged to a young French Canadian called Bernard who sailed with his dog Bertine as first mate. He was an architect from Montreal. Jon had done some work on his mainsail in Gustavia the previous year. He too was heading up to the Bahamas. The boys were pleased to see the dog again. We agreed it would be fun to cruise in company.

Next day we sailed the 25 miles to Bahia de Rincons keeping in VHF contact with Bernard every two hours. Jethro would do the honours on Channel 06. “Kundalini, Kundalini, this is Camelot,” he would call at the appropriate hour. “Hi there Jethro. This is Bernard” and they would chat for a couple of minutes. When we both anchored, Bernard came over for dinner on his Windsurfer with a bottle of wine on a lanyard round his neck.

The newly rigged boom vang was a great success. Sailing on a run or broad reach was enhanced. The following day Jethro joined Bernard for the morning sail to Isla Caya de Muertos where we anchored for lunch. He was highly impressed with gadgets on board such as self steering gear and the hand bearing compass he was allowed to use to triangulate their position with conspicuous objects on land. It was strange to hear Jethro’s voice calling us on the VHF.

“Camelot, Camelot, this is Jethro!”

Jon went out on Bernard’s windsurfer while the rest of us took Bertine to the beach. With so much distance to cover, we felt the need to let the children run around ashore for a couple of hours as often as possible.

Bernard had a lot of fishing tackle on board and taught Jethro how to bait a hook. He caught a 5 pound rainbow runner that afternoon which Bernard cooked for dinner. Jethro was chuffed about catching the fish but could not bear to eat it. Olly was not so choosy. He devoured his fish and sautéed potatoes with pleasure.

Ponce, 2nd Largest City in Puerto Rico

The next stop to check in again was Ponce. The procedure was to go alongside at the Ponce Yacht and Fishing Club and wait for an Agriculture/Immigration Officer to come on board. We had to wait three hours before he obliged, then he searched our lockers for arms or drugs and informed us we needed a new cruising permit. The one from St John in the USVI was not appropriate.

Ponce was the second largest city on Puerto Rico and steeped in history. We learned about the original inhabitants of this huge island being Tainos Indians. They were mostly enslaved by the Portuguese who invaded in the sixteenth century. It was such a strategically important gateway to the Caribbean that the Dutch, Portuguese, Spaniards, English and French had all tried to take over. The USA gained control after the Spanish-American war.

Despite being frequently devastated by hurricanes, there were still many buildings dating back centuries. In the fancy Yacht Club complex was a childrens’ play park and a swimming pool which we all enjoyed. We bought some fishing tackle comprising line with a 25 pound breaking strain and several bright orange plastic hoochie lures.

Towards Boqueron

Our next anchorage was the natural harbour of Guanica. Bernard and Jon took the boys ashore to climb up to a fort and to look at the plaque commemorating US troops who had landed there in 1898. I found an excellent supermarket selling fresh fruit and vegetables and splashed out less than $20 on fruit, yoghurt, T-bone steaks and salad ingredients.

The following morning was a dead run to the south west corner of the island when we caught another handsome Snapper. In strong winds and flat water we reached up the west coast and into the port of Boqueron for more Customs clearance then out to anchor. The weather forecast was for thunder storms so we remained at anchor until the following day. I found a good Laundromat where I could use three machines at once. I even used their driers because of the thunderstorms.

With the newly applied canvas proofing working well on the Bimini and screens, we collected enough rainwater to fill our fresh water tanks. That evening we all joined Bernard for supper on Kundalini where Oliver climbed into Bertine’s dog basket when he was sleepy.

The Notorious Mona Passage

Leaving Puerto Rico

At 10 am on 15th May we left Puerto Rico behind and spent the first twenty miles sailing in water less than twenty feet deep, where we could clearly see the bottom and occasional coral heads, which was scary with our six foot draft. Once clear of the shallows the seas swells were longer and we barrelled along at over 6 knots under mizzen and staysail alone. Before the daylight faded we were over part of the Milwaukee Trench which is up to 20,000 feet deep! On our chart it was called the Brownson Deep. The crossing from Boqueron to Samana was about 150 miles.

“Kundalini, Kundalini, this is Camelot,” said Jethro correctly into the VHF at 7pm. “Hello Camelot, how are you?”
“Fine thank you. Olly and me are going to bed now. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. Sleep tight.”

Jon and I took two hourly turns at the wheel through the night while the children slept for twelve hours. There was thunder and lightening in the early hours which killed off the wind. We could still see Kundalini in the lightening flashes. By daybreak we spotted the landmass of the Dominican Republic. Jon fired up the engine and we motor sailed to maintain speed and keep up with Bernard. The course was 310 magnetic.

The Dominican Republic

We turned into Samana Bay and went dockside where Customs officials came on board and inspected lockers again. We decided to stay for a few days to do engine checks and dive to clean the hull. Besides we needed to replace the propane and that could not be done in Samana. It would require a 64 kilometre bus trip to Santo Domingo, the capital of the Dominican Republic on the south coast.

When we went ashore to explore we were accosted by bare footed children begging and young men offering to be our guides. One particularly persistent lad was called Phillip. We gave in and asked him to get the gas for us. This he did for a fee of $10 US plus a his bus fare and a similar cost for the gas, which was well worthwhile.

Jon replaced a badly corroded salt water cooling pipe and fixed new jubilee clips. We arranged to go by taxi with Bernard to an immense waterfall where we could swim in fresh water. Downstream ladies were doing their laundry by thrashing garments against the rocks. We had a shrimp salad lunch in a roadside shack washed down by very good local beer. It made a welcome change to drive along mountainous roads and stop at the in the countryside to buy mangoes and bananas from makeshift stalls. We looked in at an indoor market, but the sight of freshly slaughtered goats and buckets of offal was not conducive to a shopping spree.

Phillip was lurking whenever we went ashore, always setting a price for his services which became tiresome. When we took on 89 gallons of deisel for less than £50 Phillip demanded $10 for helping. It was time to dispose of his services. We were polite and realised this was his way of making a living but enough was enough. He went off with $3 and a flea in his ear.

Horrendous experience towards Puerto Plata

Our next long step of this journey was to Puerto Plata on the North Coast. We left Samana on Saturday 21st May having cleared out and obtained despatch papers. Kundalini was just ahead. Strong trade winds and a long north easterly swell caused rough sailing conditions. Camelot was corkscrewing. Both boys retired to their bunks with toys and we secured their netting. Cupboards began to spew out their contents. Huge waves crashed over the foredeck. Jon was wrestling with the wheel and I was praying. We thought about putting into Escondido for shelter and radioed our intention to Kundalini.

“Kundalini, Kundalini, this is Camelot,” I began.

“Camelot, come in,” said Bernard.

“We are going to see if there is a sheltered anchorage in Escondido”

“Well good luck with that. I am seasick but I’m pressing on,” came the reply.

“Bon voyage, a bientot,” I relayed this to Jon.

We turned into the wide bay and Jon peered over the swells with binoculars to look at the shore.

“Oh no, that is untenable,” he said sadly. “The waves are crashing right up to the beach. So much for the Street guide saying this was a safe all weather anchorage.”

There was nothing for it but to press on. It was still 80 miles to Puerto Plata. The worst thing about uncomfortable weather on a long sailing passage… It can go on for hours and hours. Having turned the corner we were now heading west again. As night fell I fed the boys on just ginger biscuits and bottles of water and comforted them in their bunks. They had both been sick but I could not change their bedding. I just put clean towels over their pillows, and secured the restraint netting. At least they were safe and warm. Jon and I dined on cold drinks and biscuits too, there was no way I could prepare even a sandwich in that chaotic galley.

We spotted the green and white lights of La Union airport and then Puerto Plata Lighthouse. Following the leading lights at 3 am we motor sailed into the port passing rusty huge ship wrecks on the rocks outside We dropped the anchor in calm water under the fort to get a couple of hours of much needed sleep before clearing in.

Loud knocking on the topsides awoke us at 7.30 am and two Customs Officials clambered aboard. I could not understand what they were asking. They went into the saloon were the boys had been rudely awakened and homed in on two black bags stowed in the forward head. They ripped them open to be confronted by the bedsheets and pillowcases covered in vomit that I had stripped off the boys bunks before going to sleep myself. Holding their hands up in horror their attitude changed and they checked our papers and passports. They stroked the two little blond heads and wished us well having stamped our passports.

Puerto Plata (or Porta Potty)

Oliver had heard us talking about this port of call and pointed to the land saying what sounded remarkably like “Porta Potty”.

Bernard came aboard a couple of hours later bringing his number 2 Genoa which had ripped seams and leech. He too had a horrendous journey but had recovered after a good night’s sleep. We all went ashore for breakfast and Jon bought me an amber necklace as a reward for another successful rough crossing. The boys were each given tee shirts and the ice creams which they politely asked for in Spanish. We explored the fort but declined the possible cable car ride. Enough dizzy excitement for one week! Jon repaired Bernard’s genoa before we left.

Next stop Turks and Caicos. Then hundreds of miles of Bahamas.