Dominican Republic

Here we come
For me who had never been to a Spanish speaking place, I was delighted to have a chance to see the people of this island Hispaniola. Ingrid and I had been attempting hard at learning some useful Spanish which contained phrases about food, directions etc. The best we could come up with from our several lame tries was 'Animate' with an exaggerated Spanish accent which we thought would be useful to cheer up any reluctant customs officer. Mads left all the linguistical challenges to the female crew. Not to be outdone, we imagined that our African French tinged with a bit of slow Spanish would suffice. How wrong we were. We did not understand anything. NADA baby. Flagrant gestures and wide grins were the saviours of our days.

We had a pleasurable sail from Turks and Caicos due south to Luperon harbour on the north coast of the DR, the amber coast as it is sometimes called. By early morning we found ourselves some 10 miles west of Luperon. We had to quickly make it to the anchorage before the trade winds started piping in at 25 knots. We coasted along the beautiful landscape, which we had seen from a distance. It is an amazing trick to the eye when you set your eyes on DR from a distance. Coming from flat Bahamas and Turks and Caicos, it is awesome to see the towering mountains of this island. You are almost deceived and think that the island is closer that it is, only to realise you are still a good 30 miles out.

We made it into Luperon, a harbour in the mangroves, protected by reefs on each side. Here the water is very murky so we had to slowly make our progress into the western channel. There were more boats than we had anticipated and by the look of things it seemed we could not find any space to anchor. We were also weary to continue further down the channel as we knew there were shallow areas in the middle of the anchorage. We found one spot and decided we would return to it if there was nothing better further down the channel. Not clever. We got stuck in the mud. The depth went from 4 metres to 1 metre in a matter of seconds. We had thought we were quite clever and we could avoid running aground if we sailed really close to big boats. Ah well, that just shows you that you can't always trust your eyes especially when you cannot see the bottom. Though everyone was in the middle of breakfast, lots of dinghies came out to push us out of the mud. We were showered with friendly laughs and were told that we were the third boat to have fallen into the same triap that morning. That made us feel much better. You don't want to be the only clown in the circus.

A taste of the Turks and Caicos

Just to show how little fascination we had of the place, Ocean Odyssey's resident photographer, Ingrid, took only about 30 pictures of our entire visit in the Turks and Caicos. And this is a woman who is unstoppable when it comes to clicking on the camera.

The famous slipper lobster caught outside of Ambergris. The day after Mads had speared it, when we were heading for the Dominican Republic, we spent three hairy hours zigzagging between coral heads in the bank before we could exit. Quel horreur. Sailors be aware of the waiting trap (and we are not the only ones to whom this has happened). This was by far the most harrowing sailing experience we had in the 14 months we sailed.

Thyra thinking about boat tennis.

Commercial Harbour

View of amazing mansions from the boat.

Into Provo, not quite

The two most interesting creatures we met in these islands were firstly a cockroach looking crayfish in the Ambergris anchorage. Some months later we found out the creature is called a Slipper Lobster. The second were the massive coral heads outside of Ambergris island. Those I have no immediate desire to encounter again.

When we laid anchor outside the commercial bay in the Providenciales Island (Provo), we had to check in at customs in another bay across the hill from our bay. After parking the dinghy next to some dodgy characters, we started asking the same dodgy persons to give us directions to customs, a bar and a supermarket (in that order). The customs office was a ten minute walk, the bar not findable and a mini market a bit of a distance. At the dusty entrance of the busy Provo harbour, we were duly informed that children are not allowed into the premises. Whilst the children and I were coughing dirt and chatting with the security guard who was more interested in his mobile phone than the trucks that were on business at the harbour, Ingrid and Mads went to check us in. Luckily it took a much shorter period than anticipated.

We had been informed that the minimarket was along the newly paved road. The area was a bit odd, a mixture of tropical paradise mansions next to huge building sites and no life to speak of. The minimarket was as exactly as I expected it; a few selected items on the shelves with gravely expensive tags on them.

Central town was far away and we could only get there by taxi and the fee was purpotedly expensive too. I was getting tired of hearing that word but then I realised that I am just a pompous boat owner who is looking for cheap ways to do things. The people there had to live with those prices, they could not exactly opt out. I for one could always pack up and sail away; which we did as soon as the weather was right. We heard mention of barbecues and all sorts of get togethers for sailors and travellers but I must admit, Provo did not quite charm us. Possibly the only charming element of our anchorage was the hotel on top of the hill, which obviously was ostentatious in its days. After checking out with customs, we took the path that cuts right across the hotel. At first we were sure that it was uninhabited and then as we found ourselves on the main ground, beautiful aromas were wafting across the parched lawn. The whiff was that of food. To our amazement, the place was full of Asian people. On the clothes lines were colourful silk clothes which brightened this erstwhile grand hotel with its magnificent views. We later found out that the Asian people were part of the construction and marine industries. Such are the demands of capitalism and the chase for a better life for one's children: these will move you worlds away from that you love most.

The following day we left not having seen the town of Providenciales.

More blogging coming

I know I promised to tell the Caribbean tales. More is coming. There are stories from Turks and Caicos, Dominican Republic, Virgin Islands, St Kitts & Nevis, Antigua, Dominica, St Vincent and the Grenadines, Grenada and Trinidad and Tobago.
It should be good reading.

old goodies

LOOK WHAT I FOUND LYING IN THE OLD BLOG ON BLOG.CO.UK
Her lady Ocean Odyssey awaits guests
The dark burgundy Ocean Odyssey, a Moody 42 sailboat awaits to be traversed over blue waters and to be taken to far shores. The lady, as the American friend Peter calls her, ís resting in the western coast of Florida after we purchased her. The proud skipper, Mads, who spent a month rehaulling her and cleaning out every accessible dark corner from inside the hull is anxious to return to her. We are still in Denmark, scheduled to return to the lady at the end of July.Friends, check your calenders and start booking your visits with us. We anticipate that we will spend a couple of months in the lands of the Carib and the USA so feel free to join us anytime from August 2007.

Hello Turks and Caicos

I know that to many the name sounds vaguely familiar but one can't quite figure out where one has heard it before. In the Atlantic, just under 80 nautical miles south east of Mayaguana in the Bahamas lie the islands of this British Overseas Territory which boasts a population of approximately 30 000. The Turks and Caicos islands are very similar to the Bahamas; full of coral reefs, flat, semi-arid, a little short of fresh water and blessed with absolutely clear blue water. One of the longest coral reefs in the world is found along these islands.

Bye Bye Bahamas

Jamaica Cay

Our second last stop in the Bahamas was the idyllic island of Jamaica Cay where we had a barbecue on the beach with miles and miles of golden sand and no one else around. Not even sandflies disturbed our precious evening meal.

The following day we left for Salina Point settlement, the most southern village on the island. We negotiated for five hours through shallow water dotted with menacing coral heads. At some point we had to take the sails down as the wind was piping up and it was becoming difficult to steer the boat with that much power on the sails. We motored the rest of the way through some treachorous areas in the bight of Acklins and then came out on the deep side and headed straight south.

At the entrance to the bight on the southern side, we were met by jumping dolphins who seriously looked like magical creatures in the orange afternoon light. I knew then how the references to mermaids originated. As we watched, the telephone rang and we were all taken aback as the Bahamian telephone network was a bit of a hit and run making it impossible to know when you would be able to receive or make phonecalls and that we had not used the phone for a month. It was Tshina calling from Denmark wishing Pam a happy birthday in advance.

We crawled our way through some more coral heads in an attempt to find a place to anchor. We tired to anchor twice and still no luck. The bottom being rock solid hard was not cooperating with us. In the end Mads snorkelled down to the third anchor spot and had to shift some sand for the anchor to settle a bit. We had, earlier with Liz and Paul, made jokes about American seamen who told stories of carrying shovels for digging holes for their anchors and had written them off as ridiculous and bored yachtsmen. Not that a shovel would have helped in this coralled bottom but it would have saved the skipper's arms from engaging in complex under water exercises for which no water aerobics class can ever prepare you.

We settled for the night and watched the fishermen's boats rolling in the shallow waters.

Salina Point Settlement

Mission water collection was on the programme. Ingrid, Thyra, Fika and I left the skipper to go and forage in the neighbourhood. This time it would take a dinghy ride, a 3km walk with four jerry cans to get to the settlement. It seemed that Saturdays were reserved laundry day. All the young girls, whom we asked for directions, were engrossed in the weekly washing of school uniforms and Sunday school dresses. Salina point is located on the eastern side of the island facing the Atlantic which pounds the rocks everyday making the sea look menacing. The village has everything the inhabitants require: mobile phone connection, desalination plant, school, clinic, church and also amazingly 3 restaurants and a small hotel.

We were even escorted to the general store where we could purchase frozen food and canned goods. The proprietor, a very friendly man with a warm laugh, drove us to the public tap, filled our jerry cans and drove us back to the harbour. His children were then asked to load our dinghy and help push us it out as the tide was low by the time we returned.

The captain was pleased to see his crew return. We prepared the boat for departure. We were all a bit subdued as this was our last anchorage in the Bahamas.

At four o'clock on March 23rd 2008 we picked up and waved goodbye to Acklins island. We were aiming for Turks and Caicos, some 160 nautical miles south east of Acklins island. Typically the wind was not cooperating with us as it came straight from the south of east. As we rounded off Castle Island, we decided to make a straight course towards Turks and Caicos and then tack up north. As it were, we tacked up north and the skipper realised that the best option would be to sail all the way up to Mayaguana's north coast and hope that the wind woud shift east so we could make a straight southerly run for T& C. On the second afternoon we spotted Mayaguana and waved and waved. This would be the last island we would see in the Bahamas.

Bye Baha Mar

As we chatted about leaving this beautiful desert in the Atlantic, the fishing rod suddenly started coming to life. Mads got very busy in the next half-hour. We could see that we caught a dorado, the most delicious fish on the planet. As Mads reeled it in, we could see all its fantastic colours and children and adults were clapping like mad in anticipation of a feast. Then the rod just bucked over forward and silence. Lo, the fish was gone. We thought it had managed to untangle itself. But what were we seeing behind the boat. A ginormous shark of some sort. We ran downstairs to check in the marine book. It turned out that it was the rare Atlantic white tip ocean shark. The fellow was quite pleased with our catch and it stayed with us for an hour just behind the boat. We were determined that we were not going to fish for it, so the fishing rod stayed put. We sailed on towards the east coast of Mayaguana during the evening and by midnight we were well out of Bahamian water.

Our exit was dramatic, exquisite and expressed our true sentiments about the Bahamas. We would never forget the warm friendly people who prize their conch and rice and peas above all dishes. We would remember their national pride and resilience in this blue water desert of the Atlantic. We respect them for making themselves into what they today are; from slavery into a thriving people who love their children, their homecoming meetings and their regattas.