Dominican Republic

And indeed tomorrow was another day and a much more enjoyable one at that. Cruising along the north coast of the Dominican Republic (DR) as the sun came up, we marvelled at the mountainous green forests and warm smells from the land. We were heading for Luperón, a very sheltered harbour used by the sailing community as a hole during the hurricane season. It was also close to where Harry and Lynda were getting Libra built in the jungle.

The DR and Haiti are collectively known as Hispaniola, first sighted by Christopher Columbus in 1492, when he sailed the ocean blue. He made landfall in Haiti, was warmly greeted by the native Taino and impressed with seeming abundance of gold. Running Santa Maria aground, he was left with only two ships with which to make the journey back to Europe, so he established a small, manned fort La Navidad, and returned with the remaining crew on the Nina and the Pinta to prepare for his second voyage. Upon his return in 1493, he discovered the fort had been destroyed, his men killed and so he moved further along the island to the DR and established the first European settlement at La Isobela, now an archaeological park and a 25 minute drive from where we were anchored in Luperón.  

Drifting outside Luperón Harbour for several hours we made water and washed, both NOETA and her crew; experience has taught us that muddy river fed bays are not ideal for swimming or reverse osmosis. Manoeuvring past many moored boats and floating logs, we anchored at the head of the harbour in two metres, half submerged mangroves behind us and discovered that the stainless bow roller Skip and Simon had engineered in Croatia was hanging on by one of its four bolts - another saildrive casualty. The bow roller guides the anchor and chain, and it protects the boat. With only one saildrive fully operational, we had put too much sideways pressure on the fitting when anchoring, sigh, the hunt for an engineering shop was on.

But before that we needed to clear in. Having read all sorts of sailor’s accounts about bureaucracy, unclear “fees”, “gifts” and general difficulty in the DR, I was feeling slightly apprehensive - a total waste of energy -  clearing into Luperón was a delightful experience. Our SailClear arrival notification and Bahamian cruising permit were sufficient as a zarpe, and we didn’t have to take a mooring ball from Papo. It was a Sunday and after visiting Migracion (Immigration) we waded through mud and up a hill to the Armada (Navy) where a Crocs, complete with Jibbitz, wearing sergeant Richard instructed us to fill out forms and pay DOP4,000 (NZD110). It was the first time we had ever been asked to show a photo of NOETA, and it took a while trawling through Instagram, luckily were able to use their wifi. The next day the other officials were open and we visited the Port Authority USD30, Customs USD10, and the Ministry of Agriculture (all housed in a repurposed container). It seems quite a rigmarole but this was all done amidst loud chaotic laughter and friendliness. In addition, Ariel, the MOA officer rented us a car for USD25/day, saving us the trouble of finding one, and a local sailor gave us the heads up on the Luperón Cruisers WhatsApp group - we were off on our DR adventure.

Having a car was great, the diesel runs were easier (and cheaper at 221.6 DOP/L we were back to US prices) and it enabled us to visit the boatyard, La Isabela and drive south through the hot, crazy traffic of Santiago and up into the cool green Jarabacoa mountains. Highway signage and driver etiquette is very different in this country. There is often no clear indication as to what lane to take, and there is no indication that cars are going to cross in front as they turn or stop suddenly to either have a chat or get out. We had a few narrow misses and did do a few 360s but made the five hour 250 km return trip to Jarabacoa unscathed.

We also learnt that Google maps is not very accurate in rural DR, several times we ended up on dirt track roads fording, thankfully, dry riverbeds all whilst keeping a sharp lookout for branches laid across roadworks (no cones here), and dogs, goats, cows and chickens crossing the road, to get to the other side, sometimes.

Early on I noticed that many of the buildings had sculptural chains running from their roof to the ground, I was determined to find out what they were and, if possible, get one. I checked out the small shops in Luperón and asked a few locals, but it wasn’t until we drove down to Jarabacoa that it all came together.

They are rain chains and act as drainpipes, functional and beautiful, softening and directing the water flow as it hits the ground and aiding in water collection. They were for sale at the many outdoor furniture warehouses on the outskirts of Santiago, often  alongside stalls selling live animals, but it was too difficult to stop, and by the time I had spied one, we were well past. Resigning myself to a lost opportunity we drove on and up through the forest to Jarabacoa where we passed a metalworking barn, making chains, which I suspect were then sold to the aforementioned warehouses - so after a bit of bartering, success! The lakeside eastern roof corner at Rotoiti will have a new feature later in the year.

Luperón is a friendly relaxed small town, where I was able to practise my Spanish, especially hablas inglés? and no tengo español. We poked our heads into the many roadside shops with their wilting produce, were intrigued by the open air butcher shops, but reluctant to buy any meat. The men sat under shade trees playing dominos while the women swept the housefronts, and the children looked on. The Loteka number houses were many and cockfighting is still legal. 

Driving west from Luperón, we spent an hour wandering around La Isabela, reconstructed ruins in a beautiful setting looking out over the sea, you can understand why Columbus chose this place to settle. Sadly, any original structures were bulldozed into the sea in 1940’s, the mayor of the town didn’t fully understand the memo to clean the site up for visiting dignitaries, apparently, he wasn’t around soon afterwards.

It was lovely to spend time with Harry & Lynda, watch the progress of Libra at Adventura Boatyard and meet owner Luca and his wonderful collection of friends. Luca’s boatyard is on the road to La Isabela and is in the jungle, literally, a hub of activity in the forest. And winding up the hill behind the yard, he and fellow Frenchman Jean Pierre (Jeff) have turned what was once cleared land into a tropical garden paradise – fields of native flowers, orchards of fruit trees, vegetable plots, poultry villages, and stands of majestic mahogony, weaver birds weaving and mourning doves cooing through the trees. Magic. 

There is an active cruising community in Luperón, it is a popular haven during the hurricane season and we were amazed at the generosity of spirit from fellow travellers. Summertime cruising in the Med it aint, this is the real thing. We loved our week there and felt sad to leave, although I’m not sure we could do a whole season, even taking yoga and rope classes into account. Regardless. we needed to get our saildrive fixed and our best bet looked like the British Virgin Islands, so we cleared out and filed our despacho with the Armada, continuing our journey westwards early the next morning - it is illegal to sail in the DR after 1800!