Maybe we'll buy this old classic

It's a very cold on Sunday January 3rd and, we're going for a drive, of course we're off to see a boat that's moored in Whitehaven Marina which is about an hour and a half away.
When we get there we find the marina is frozen over,perhaps not the best day to veiw boats, especially boats to cruise the Caribbean. All of these boats would look better in the turquoise waters of the Caribbean. We pick our way gingerly along the icy jetty to where our boat is moored. She's a beautiful sight, a Buchanan bonito cica 1962 with lines to die for. What a lovely boat, but all we can do is look over her on the outside as we haven't arranged a rendevue with the broker, this is just an impromptu visit.
Somehow these old boats look like a yacht should look, with a swept back stern and gently curving bow. She has a tiller and lots of teak decking and wooden stuff around the aft deck bit. I think she's had a few upgrades, the winches look modern, as does the mast and boom. It looks from the outside like our kind of boat. If it was a car it would be morris traveller, and I've got a soft spot for travellers. We can peep through the windows, but the view is very limited. She looks tidy if perhaps a little cramped but we can't really tell, all we can see though looks in good order and shipshape. It's bitterly cold and the suns going down so we pick our way back to The Beacon cafe and agree we really like this boat. We'll have to arrange to view her with the agent before we can decide anything but at just under 24 grand she looks like a bargin and a classic from 1962.

Snow brrrrrrr.

The snow came down at the weekend and with Christmas just a few days away we're being distracted from the dream at the moment. Anyway, this reminds me why we want to sail in the Caribbean and not the Irish sea. It seems ages now since Luperon although it was only 10 days ago. We're going to do our Day skipper course in the new year, and we're thinking of doing the London boat show, just to feed our addiction, in January, that'll be something to look forward to.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32FBaTyO5qo

Goosewinged and guitarless in Luperon

Tom runs the marine outfitters store at Puerta Blanca "marina", although I think you can only buy Snickers bars there. He's a sort of friend of Rays and he has a solid dingy that doesn't need pumping up at all. He will be our agua gua gua this morning, and with seven us in what should be a four man dingy, we're a little low in the water. There's just a hint of chop on the surface this morning, but as Tom takes it slowly we make Odyessy completely dry (not quite but I'm not complaining) and climb aboard.
It's a perfect morning for sailing, the sun shines in a cloudless sky and in Luperon bay there's a slight breeze. We take off the sail cover and attach the shackle of the main halyard to the peak of the mainsail, start the engine and cast off from the mooring. I take the helm and steer our now familiar course pass the boats at anchor on the far side of the bay heading for the tricky entrance where we've run aground twice already. Ray tells me to pass close to the anchored boats keeping them to starboard, although watching the depth gauge slip quickly from 13ft to 10 then suddenly to 6ft we bump to a halt. Grounded yet again, we should have kept the boats to port, as we're leaving at low water. Whoops, we may need our Irishman again, but Ray throws her into reverse and we slide free.
At the bay entrance we spot two new marker posts that have appeared, mysteriously, but not trusting them we pick our own course gingerly out to sea. This time we get through without incident.
Even out on the Ocean the seas are fairly flat but theres enough breeze to sail and soon the sails are set and we head towards El Castillo. Martin wants to find a bay where we can swim but we will have to sail down wind to get there. We unfurl the jib and set the sails in a goosewing, that is when you have the main sail on one side of the boat and the jib furled on the other. This turns out to be a difficult sail as the wind is behind us but the swell is coming on the starboard beam, or right hand side. The Jib fills with wind and loses the wind constantly causing it to flap furiously and then snap full. We sail like this for at least a couple of hours making very slow progress. Me and Jackie take turns at the helm, but progress is slow. Funny I thought with the wind behind us we would be going fast but it's not the case. Ray checks the chart against the GPS and reckons we're not going to have enough time to do this trip so we all agree to return to Luperon instead. By this time the wind has picked up considerably and so have the seas. We spend the next three hours making long tacks against the wind to get back to base. All this tacking involves lots of resetting of sails which is great practice, and I start to get a real feel for helming the boat and getting the best speed whilst sailing as close to the wind as I can. By the end of today I'm feeling that I'm starting to really understand how to sail. By the time we get close to Luperon the seas are quite big, no breaking waves but never the less quite challenging, Windermere and Morecambe bay will seem tame to this. Having this experience should be excellent grounding when we get back to England and start our Day skipper course.
Ray takes over for the entrance into the bay, and with the tide now high we have an incident free end to our day. We flake the sails put on the cover and Tom comes out to pick us all up and take us back to the marina.
Of course there had to be an incident, this is sailing with Ray after all. Ray had come down to the marina in his car, and in the back he had my guitar and his dog. When we arrived back at puerta blanca there is no car to be seen. It seemed that his sail boat buddy Jerome, had borrowed it to take his wife to Puerta Plata airport for a 5.30pm flight. He won't be back till at least 7pm and Martin and Suzy want to be back before dark. The easy solution would be for us to meet Jerome on the way but as is always the case with Ray, bless his soul, nothings that easy. Jerome doesn't have a mobile phone, everybody on this island has a mobile phone, but not Jerome. The only solution is for Ray to come and pay us a visit tomorrow and return my guitar. He has to go into Puerta Plata for a, lets just say, a delicate medical test, tomorrow and it will give him a chance to show Barry another side to Dom Rep.
Sure enough they arrive next day with my guitar, but they've had trouble with the radiator over heating and have had a precarious journey having to constantly stop to top up the radiator. He'll get back OK he reckons if they take it easy. Oh well what more could we expect, only to say that sailing with Ray has been an incident filled adventure and one that we will remember with much affection, for him, Barry man, and the sailboat Odyssey. Tomorrow we fly back to the UK with a wealth of experience and a thirst for the next chapter in our sailing story.

Health & Safety at work

I can't leave this blog today without a note about Ray's life-raft. He had us in stitches as he described how he tried to test it after discovering that it was not secured to the deck. Before drilling holes in his deck and ever-mindful of Health & Safety, Ray thought he would bring the life-raft ashore to check it out. He wrestled it on board the dingyand brought it up to the Marina in full view of the bar and all it's occupants. Under the cover the canister looked a little corroded so he pulled the cord and the six-man lift-raft started to inflate and the dome raised nearly full height - when 'BANG' it exploded and deflated like a popped balloon much to the mirth of the many onlookers. The water sachets in the life-raft said 'use by 1986' - just a little out of date. Ray rescued a little coit (spelling? anyway a little rubber ring thing that we used to play with as kids) with a thin orange rope which he now has proudly attached to the back of the boat in case of man-overboard. Ever the optimist, Ray said 'Oh well it saves me drilling holes in the deck then, and I've plenty life-vests on board'. Very reassuring.

Blessings in disguise

Continued by the First Mate...
I was soaked through and had to sit on a towel whilst we waited for Ray to arrive. After another round of G&Ts, Ray reasoned that it was probably the guy who had borrowed his dingy and who must have turned the pump valve the wrong way letting the air out. We agree that it was probably a good thing that the engine cut out or we may have sunk half way across Luperon Bay so that's good then. But we're still up for Shaggies Bar and Ray says he'll drop us off at a hotel in the centre of town so we can walk along to Shaggies later and we leave Colin's guitar in his car. The hotel looks a bit typico but anything will do as I need to get out of my wet shorts. A smiling Dominican opens a gate and we climb the stairs to our room and its going to be OK - very clean and amazingly hot and cold water and at the same time! Can't help feeling a little sorry for Martin and Susy although they will have the pleasure of a wonderful dawn at the Yacht Club. We shower and change and head off to Shaggies for a night of music and meatloaf (not the musician just some food) but there are only two german guys there. Shaggie is leaning back in a chair and the bar seems to be shut. Shaggie opens the bar as Ray, Barry, two Carmens and a Jessica arrive. The girls are young and Ray's Carmen is very beautiful but the language barrier prevents much conversation between us. Colin gets out his guitar and Shaggies Dominican girlfriend joins him in a rendition of a Beatles song. Later Colin sings the Luperon song again to much applause from Ray and Barry. 'James Bond meets Dr No' goes down particularly well as Jessica joins in with the chorus of 'Eye Eye Eye'. Now we're really hungry and Shaggie has no food so we head off to look for some pico pollo. Luperon is in darkness as we have the usual 'outage', there are oil lamps here and there and we eventually find ourselves outside a typico comida place but they have nothing left. A few steps away and we are in a little painted wooden shack with a tin roof. It's spotless and in the corner a fire burns under a caldron. The master of the house finds plastic chairs from somewhere and soon we have a huge spread of plantains, meat of unspecified kind but very delicious and some ensalada. We all tuck in and then Colin and I head back to our deserted hotel and sink a few rums as we play a game or two of backgammon on the balcony over-looking the streets of Luperon and we look forward to another day of sailing with Captain Ray.
In the morning we awake at dawn and after a refreshing shower we sit on the balcony and watch Luperon come alive as we eat chunks of fresh pineapple and papaya. A stray dog tips a metal drum over, spilling litter onto the street and one or two moto-conchos drive by. After a while the traffic starts to increase and a trickle, then a stream of children, neat in their school-uniforms pass by. Shops start to open and I watch a large Dominican guy clear his nose as he raises the shutters on his Gift Shop, named Jumbo's rather aptly. OK so we had the beautiful dawn at the Yacht Club last week but this is fun and we feel we are experiencing Dominican life in the raw. As the sun hits the balcony the town is buzzing with moto-conchos darting about in the usual chaotic way. We stroll out to find an Orange shop which is only a few yards away and is open. Colin tops up his phone so we can ring Susy and Martin and we wander down to the Upper Deck for breakfast and to rendevous with our sailing companions.

That sinking feeling

It's our last week here in the Dominican Republic and Suzy and Martin have suggested that we have a fun day out together. They have bought a second hand, but newish 4 x 4, and we're going to Luperon for another days sailing with Ray. As with all our adventures here, this one will have it's hiccups. On the way we stop for lunch at Colfresi, at a little beachfront restaraunt but when Suzy opens the car door to leave the alarm starts up and no amount of furiously pushing buttons on the key fob seems to make any difference. The alarm just keeps cycling through it's whoop whoop, wha wha, nee naw nee naw sequence. Martin is on the phone to the guy he bought it off when a young moto concho man comes to our rescue. He finds the wire to the alarm and pulls it off. The alarm stops, but the car still won't start. A few minutes later another young man on a motor cycle pulls up and reckons he's an electrico, and out of his rucksack produces a circuit tester. This looks promising, I think, although Martins not at all sure he wants a Dominican style fix to his new car. The electrico dives beneath the steering colums and yanks at something and suddenly all is now quiet, and he turns the key and starts the engine. Muchos gracias, we're out of trouble and on our way although 400 pesoes lighter, but we don't mind cause now we can get on with our "fun" day out.
We arrive at the Luperon yacht club at about 5pm, order a cerveza, and check on rooms but they've only one available. We phone Ray who's happy for me and Jackie to stay on his boat for the night and so we arrange to meet him in an hour at the puerta blanca "marina". The plan is that we will all be going to eat at Shaggies bar later, and being Wednesday there'll be a bit of a session going on. However this plan stumbles as Suzy and Martin don't fancy taking their new car into Luperon in the dark, and would prefer to have dinner at the yacht club and a quiet night. Ok, no problem, we say, we can take Rays dingy to the boat, drop our stuff and pop over the harbour to the town jetty which is just a stones throw from Shaggies bar. Well that's the plan.
Suzy and Martin drop us at puerta blanco with one overnight bag, a rucksack, a cool bag with wine and rum plus mixers,and a guitar in a flight case.
We find Ray pumping up the dingy, which as you may remember, has a slow puncture, but that's fine as it stays pumped up for a good few hours once inflated. We load all our gear into the dingy which makes for a tight squeeze for the crew of two but we're fine and I fire up the engine. By now it's completely dark but we've done this trip before, it'll take us about five minutes to reach Rays boat. Due to a minor problem, Ray's dingy engine has no neutral, and as soon as the engine kicks in we speed away from the key and wave farewell to Ray saying we'll meet him later at Shaggies.
Jackie is perched on the front and as the night is rather windy the bay is choppy and Jackie is catching the spray so I slow down as we pass the end of the jetty and turn but just then the engine dies. As I try to start restart it we're being blown back but it just won't fire. We have a small torch and I check the fuel, it seems full, but with the wind we're in all sorts of trouble so we take to the oars and paddle back to the jetty. I try the engine again and this time it starts and we're on our way, but again we only get as far as the end of the pier when it cuts out again. Now we're drifting underneath a big catermaran and only just manage to claw our way out and start back on the one
oar we have free. We're blown back again going in circles till the engine fires but within seconds stops. The other thing that we've now noticed is that the dingy seems to be deflating a lot faster than it had in previous trips. We aren't far from the jetty but we now seem to have no engine, are trying to steer with one oar, and we will soon be sailing in a deflated dingy. Better abandon this ship, and get back to the jetty pronto. We release the other oar, although Jackie is in no position to use it. We're not exactly panicking at this point but lets say nerves are a little frayed, and when Jackie asks which way she should row and I say "the right way", lets just say this doesn't ease the situation, but some how manage to make the end of the jetty. The problem here though is that the jetty is about 4ft high and we're heading under it. Somehow Jackie manages to heave herself out of a very floppy dingy and onto the floating pontoon whilst I hastily throw her our bags and the guitar. By the time I get out the dingy is about two thirds deflated, but at least we're back on dry land. It's been half an hour since we set off and we're back at the puerta blanca "marina"bar with a couple of stiff G&Ts. Tonight we won't be sleeping on the boat.

Second lesson in running aground

First Mate's submission...
Despite problems with mobile phones and unlikely-to-be-received messages on Facebook via a borrowed laptop in Shaggies last night, Susy phones to say they were on their way to join us for some sailing. Martin is dead keen although he worries that Susy will be seasick but she is determined to try new things and have new adventures. They join us at Puerto Blanco just after 10am and we make two trips in the dingy to get us all aboard. It's a perfect day with a good breeze and we set about taking off the sail cover and making ready as Ray starts the engine and we head off to negotiate the tricky exit of Luperon Bay. We are now pretty confident we know where the narrow deep channel is and where to squeeze between the two reefs. Ray is at the helm but is getting acquainted with Martin and loses concentration as we approach the little beach where we should turn sharply to starboard. He misses it and we go aground on a sandbank (again!). Ray puts the engine into full ahead but no progress forward, just sideways as the wind pushes us towards the beach. It's all a bit chaotic and I worry that Susy will be losing confidence as we wallow about on the sandy bottom. Suddenly a dingy approaches at full speed and a friendly Irishman pops his head over the side to offer assistance. We quickly hand him a halyard and he drags Odyssey over on her side, lifting the keel off the sandbank and we move slowly forward. Ray calls over that he owes our saviour a bottle of rum as we continue out towards the reefs. Once in open water Colin hoists the mainsail and we trim in the jib as Ray shuts down the engine and we're off out to sea. This is exhilarating sailing with breaking waves and with a strong wind we are soon a mile or so off land. As we clear the headland the swell increases strongly and we have some huge waves which Ray's boat takes in her stride. Susy is quiet but seems to be hanging on in with Martin sitting close as Colin and I take turns at the helm and lines. Barry nods off as his crewing skills don't seem to be in demand. Somthing tells me his evening didn't end at Shaggies last night. Martin and Susy are sitting on the upper deck in front of the liferaft and as they lean in response to a large wave the liferaft slips to one side. Ray admits that securing this vital item of equipment is yet another job that needs doing, the liferaft is just resting on the deck so Ray spends most of the voyage leaning against it to prevent it going overboard. Susy asks Ray innocently, 'What happens if someone does go overboard?'. 'I'll give you a demonstration' says Ray and I wonder who is going to get the short straw. But Ray pulls out a tissue, throwing it overboard he says we will pick it up before it sinks. Ray pushes the tiller hard over and Odyssey turns on a sixpence, sails flapping madly until we are suddenly heave-to, with the jib fighting the mainsail we have virtually stopped and there in the water is the tissue. Confidence restored!
On the way back Colin offers Martin the helm and he jumps at the chance. Holding a steady course we crash through the waves and Martin, now grinning from ear to ear, lets out a 'Yee Hah' as spray wets us through to the skin. Martin is clearly loving this and has sailed many times before. He takes us safely back into Luperon Bay and I know this won't be for the last time as he's already talking about buying a boat. As we approach the mooring, Barry gets the boat hook and with Colin they wrestle with it at the bow trying to pick up the lines. Somehow Barry drops the boathook and its chaos again. We are floundering about with the current and wind pushing us dangerously close to the mangroves and shallow water. Ray keeps the engine in forward as we try to maneouvre the boat close to the dingy amid much shouting and hand signals. Barry hands Colin his hearing aid in preparation for jumping in to retrieve the boathook. Quick thinking Martin jumps into the dingy and we are safe once again but the boathook, well that floats by towards the mangroves never to be seen again. Back at the Marina and after some lunch and a cold beer, we say goodbye to Captain Ray and Barry and thank them for yet another enjoyable and eventful days sailing. Let's hope we can do it again soon.
For Martin and Susy the adventure didn't end here. Their car broke down just out of the Marina and somehow we drove past them, getting close to the Puerto Plata turn off before Susy phoned to ask if we would come back to get her. We picked up Susy leaving Martin to wait for a tow truck which meant Colin had to negotiate the traffic in darkness but we arrived home safe and sound, followed by Martin a couple of hours later, none the worse for wear and still on a high.