Since the turn of the year Cuba has shaped pretty much everything we have done. Sitting by the startling blue water of Barbuda we formulated a plan to spend the hurricane season in Curacao in the Southern Caribbean and delay our trip through the Panama Canal until 2012. Our route was to be Barbuda west to Cuba then back again towards Barbuda before heading south to Curacao.
Going west here is relatively easy because of the prevailing trade winds blowing from the east, sailing back east is altogether tougher and slower. However, the books we had read all recommended sailing back through the islands rather than crossing the Caribbean sea direct to Curacao as you get some shelter from the land and the option to pull in for a rest if it all gets too much.
To get to Curacao before the hurricane season starts we have a programme – no guessing who’s idea that was. The programme allowed for some time in St Martin to get work done on the boat plus a week in the Virgin Islands which we hadn’t visited yet. Otherwise we had to push on to Cuba with as little time spent en route as possible to give us more time for the more difficult passage back.
St Martin was a great 3 weeks, catching up with loads of people we had met on other islands including a wild Australia Day party at the Isle de Sol Yacht Club with all the’ super yachties’. We also met quite a few people who had been to Cuba and apart from one aussie who hated the place, everyone was raving about it. Pristine waters, huge lobsters, fabulous people and a chance to see a completely different way of life.
Getting information about the place was not easy, but we managed to get a pilot book and someone lent us his paper charts to copy. The aussie who had hated the place also gave us all his flags as he was never going back. We were scouring book swaps and internet sites downloading whatever we could.
The route also takes in the infamous Mona Passage and the Windward Passage. I’d first heard about the Mona in Spain two years ago when we met a couple who had had a dreadful time getting across. So when we rounded Cape Rojo on the south of Puerto Rico it was a with a degree of awe we both stared across the MONA. In the end we hit a perfect weather window, light winds, calm seas and we set off with another boat Glass Slipper ahead of us. Conditions were so good we arranged to take pictures of each other on the way over – we even got the spinnaker up.
This was also the first night passage we had done with just the two of us on board. Mark was breaking me in gently as we would eventually have to do a two day and six hour sail across the Windward Passage. Guidance on sailing along this north part of the Caribbean is given by a chap called Bruce Van Sant (no aussie connection) who is very prescriptive about where you should sail at what time, etc which we found difficult to follow. But we had taken his advice on the Mona and on our way along the north coast of the Dominican Republic we took a route he suggested into a bay rather than straight across between the two headlands and went a lot more quickly than Glass Slipper. We were beginning to think there may be something to his ‘prescription’.
Along the route we had been preparing for our stay in Cuba. We had been warned to take any food we wanted. To treat it as an ocean passage and provision accordingly. We also spent a huge amount of time trying to buy a SSB radio which could pick up weather forecasts as we wouldn’t have access to the internet. We tried to buy one in St Martin but they had sold out, then St Thomas where both Radioshacks had boxes on the shelf but no radio inside... and finally we rented a car in Puerto Rico to drive to San Juan where we found one plus the cabling for an external aerial which Mark still hasn’t fathomed out how to use.
We also bought little ‘gifts’ to thank people who might help us in Cuba. Bars of soap, small bottles of rum and fish hooks. Mark was a bit dubious about the soap which might be taken the wrong way and I thought the rum was like the proverbial coals. Mark also made a lobster catcher from a broom handle and bbq skewers.
All and all we felt as prepared as we could be. I was very nervous of the long sail alone and Mark was worried about the officialdom having had his fill of the dodgy Commandancia in the Dominican Republic who were expert in demanding ‘gifts’ for despatcho - the clearance document you need to go to the next port.
On our final night before leaving for Cuba we had arranged and ‘paid’ for our despatcho to leave at 10pm only to be boarded by the guarda at 8pm and told we could not leave that night. Mark was taken off to shore and the despatcho confiscated whilst I worried myself stupid over why he was gone for over 2 hours. In the end the despatcho was reissued the next day with no explanation. We had lost a valuable day in our programme not to mention what the whole sorry saga had done to my fraying nerves.
In Luperon before setting off for Cuba we asked on the cruiser’s net if anyone had been to Cuba and any advice they might have on getting across the Windward Passage. A couple of boats contacted us and Mark put one on hold whilst we chatted to the other. The second boat then started to give us some useful passage information but it was a while before we realised we were talking to ‘Bruce’ the prescription man himself.
The crossing to Cuba (Kooba) as we now call it was long but uneventful. We were pretty pleased to finally pull into Puerto Vita on our 3rd day and be met at the entrance to the bay by a small motor boat to show us the channel. It was 4pm and once the doctor had given us a clean bill of health, we were allowed onto the marina dock after we had swallowed the 3 antibiotic pills he had given us. At least he told us they were antibiotics to ensure we didn’t bring Cholera in from the Dominican Republic!
Once alongside, the harbour master, customs, immigration and the man from the agricultural department boarded. They sat around the saloon table with forms being filled in and lots of chat in Spanish. Our rudimentary Spanish was failing us miserably but with the help of the forms Mark had prepared and the dictionary, all the formalities were done in an hour. We had heard stories of it taking 5 hours. We suspect arriving at 4pm on a Saturday probably speeded up the process. The man from the ag took away a sample of mint from my little herb garden. Not sure if it was for inspection or a cutting for his garden.
So here we were in Kooba free to go ashore. We were so knackered we could only find the energy to walk along the dockside to stretch our legs. Chatting to one of the other boats we discovered the marina had an ice machine at the end of the pontoon. Ice has to be bought and shipped out to the boat in most Caribbean places, so this was a real luxury – gin and tonics all round! Until we discovered we had loads of soft drinks but only one tonic on board. Hey ho.
The following day we got a taxi to Guadalavaca about 10 miles away to change money. It felt like arriving at a film set. Not a quaint Cuban town but Disney. The town is dominated by huge hotels packed with Canadians with a smattering of Europeans. Club Med on speed or maybe Prozac. The guests were hilarious caricatures of everyone you’d like to avoid on holiday. We were glad to get back to the marina in another taxi – a 50’s Chevrolet driven by a James Dean fan.
As we had a programme to keep to we headed off to the Cays the next day to make the most of our time in Cuba. Mark was keen to press on west to give us more time to sail back at a more leisurely pace. The first night at Manati a lovely sheltered estuary, the second at Confites a small island in the vast reef that fringes the north coast was more exposed and blowy and the third off Punta Coco where we anchored behind the reef itself was both blowy and rolly. But we had reached our destination – the farthest west we planned to come – and we celebrated with a delicious fish curry made with the dorada Mark had caught the day before.
The weather report the next morning was not good. The winds we were experiencing were building. None of the anchorages in the Cays were very sheltered or good holding. Our plans to snorkel in these pristine waters (now very obscured by the choppy waves), eat enormous lobsters (caught with the converted broom handle) and explore the sandy beaches were evaporating. Could we really have come this far for nothing.
We headed back east. This time we were having to tack every couple of miles to hold our course. No longer the easy downwind sailing. Poor Zenna was being slammed into the waves but as always she doggedly carved through. After 27 hours we arrived back at Manati to find the Guarda Frontera somewhat surprised to see us again so soon. When we explained that we had come to shelter from the weather, the Capitain had to get special permission for us to stay longer than one day. Manati is a fishing village and we were looking forward to exploring ashore the next day. No sooner had we docked our dinghy than the Capitain approached us asking us what we were doing. We weren’t allowed ashore.
So we have been sitting on the boat for 3 days waiting for the weather to clear. We had consoled ourselves on leaving the Cays that at least we would get to see a little fishing port but it seems even that is not possible. We could just have sat on the boat in Barbuda not to mention the two months preparation and journey to Kooba. To be continued...
