 |
| Dramatic view of Baharona the morning we left |
I am so thankful for the fact that we travel with our
home. We have our safe little shell into
which we can crawl when this being-in-a-foreign-country thing gets a little bit
too overwhelming. I had no idea how
exhausting trying to speak and understand EVERYTHING in Spanish can be when you
don’t know the language…
Growing up in South Texas, I had ample opportunity to learn
Spanish. My daughter does a passable job
at understanding it. My brother seems to
speak it well enough… I’ve had co-workers galore who spoke Spanish around me
daily… and yet I seem to have some sort of mental block against it. How many times will I have to flip
frantically through my
Spanish forCruisers book for the SAME simple phrases? Things I will need over and over
again while we’re here… and when we get to Puerto Rico as well.
 |
| Out into the big water again leaving Baharona, DR |
The words swirl around in my head at night when I’m not
sleeping. I keep waiting for them to all
fall into place and begin to make sense in some real fashion… but they elude me
time and again. Why am I such an
idiot??? Yo soy mas estupido!!! Or whatever!!!
Say you’re on hold with some business or other… you’ve dialed the
number and listened to the recording that says “Por Espaniol el primero el
numero uno”…. And in your mind (or even out loud) you think I’m in the United
States!!! Why would I want to hear it in Espanol??? If those foreigners want to come to this
country they need to learn the language!!!
 |
| White Cliffs on Punta Martin Garcia, DR |
C’mon… admit it.
We’ve all thought it at one time or another. But from this day forward I swear I will
never EVER think or say anything like that again… I would give a kidney for a button to push
right now to make everything come out in English so that I could communicate
effectively with these people.
But you’ve got your iPad, right? Yes… I have the iPad. And it has a local SIM card in it. And I can simply type in what I want to say
to Google Translate and push a button… and there it is. The obvious problem with that is that I can’t
translate what they are saying to ME with Google… But the second thing, and
perhaps more importantly is what happened to us in Baharona.
 |
| Our destination: Palmar de Ocoa |
We had the iPad and were returning to the Supermarket on our
third day. We were in a hurry and wanted
to just go right to it so I stopped off in the shade of a building and pulled
out the iPad to take a look at the streets.
There were two young ladies in the window of an apartment right above me
and they were freaking out for some reason.
They were talking to me in rapid Spanish and waving a cell
phone and pointing to the iPad. I told
them I didn’t understand. They waved me
over and I said no. They chattered to
themselves and then waved at us again.
One of them started to mime. She
held one hand with her thumb and forefinger extended in the shape of a gun… and
with it she shot herself in the back of the head, then she rolled her eyes up
and feigned dying… then her friend waved her cell phone and pointed insistently
at the iPad.
 |
| The Guardia Post: Too deep to anchor |
From that I deduced that they thought someone would shoot me
to get my iPad. Realization dawned on my
face and I quickly tucked the iPad back into our bag and looked up to the girls
for approval. Their faces showed massive
relief and they smiled and nodded Si Si Si…
Holy shit!!!
So… it’s back to writing down the phrases I think I will
need and carrying around my book… well
crap! Now don’t get me wrong… that was
the only time we felt like we could be in over our heads in Baharona… things
went relatively fine otherwise if you don’t count being fleeced in the “con”
column…
 |
| Looking for a spot to drop the hook very close to the shoreline |
But really you just never know. It is a big city so I guess there are some
shady characters lurking around. Luckily
we were leaving the next day for the tiny little town of Palmar de Ocoa. It would be a relief to get away from the
hustle and bustle and get back into the slow lane again.
 |
| The slow lane... |
So fast-forward through a relatively painless day on the
water and just in time for sundowners we found ourselves anchored right off the
palm-lined beach of this out-of-the-way little fishing village. Now this is more like it! We have no idea what to expect ashore, but
for now, we’re safe and happy in the glow of another successful voyage
accentuated by the setting sun.
N18°17.843
W070°35.258
 |
| Anchored right in front of a little hotel |
 |
| Sun setting behind the mountains back where we were this morning |
 |
| Its nice to see pelicans again. |
We relaxed and noticed the fishermen pushing their boats off
the beach. They laid out long floating
nets up as we watched curiously. The
music from the shore mixed with laughter and squeals of delight from little
children. We felt completely safe here. And laughter needs no translation, as it is
the universal language.
This is the stuff you can’t get in the more “touristy
towns”. There are no ceremonial costumes
or dancing… no long buffets of “typical” food…
It’s just us lying off the beach watching the locals do what they
do… This… is the good stuff.
We slept in peace and in the morning watched the fishermen
going back out to haul the big nets onto the beach, trapping their catch
against the shoreline. Crowds waited to
see what they brought in and many left with bags of fish. We marveled at this simple way of life.
 |
| Fishing boats lined the beach |
Since no one from the Marina Guardia had come out to visit
us, we took our Despacho and papers in the morning and dinghied ashore to go
and check in with them before taking a stroll around the town. The men there spoke no English but I had my book
and told them where we had come from and when we wanted to leave, and to
where. They understood and asked us what
time we wanted to leave on Thursday morning.
I told them 7:30 am. They nodded
and told me to come in the morning and they would have our Despacho to Salinas
ready.
 |
| "Up Town" |
Another man stopped in the street as he was riding his moped
along and spoke to us in blessed English.
He had lived in the US for many years and he and his family owned
several of the stores along this street.
We chatted. It felt so good!
Moving on we entered the hardware store to see what kinds of
things they had. Everything was behind
the counter where if you wanted something, you had to ask... in Spanish… Eager
to sell us something, they sent a runner for a guy who spoke English.
 |
| Pass the school and it's at the end of the road... you can't miss it! |
We explained that we really didn’t need anything and asked a
few questions about the town. Overall he
said that it was a very safe little place, a few oddballs yes, but mostly
safe. We asked for his advice for a
place to get some lunch and he directed us down one block and to the end of the
street… Marias. He said to tell her
Felix from Diesel (the name of the bar) sent us and she may give us a discount…
We walked past the school were the children were spilling
out of doorways in neat but energetic lines, all dressed in their
uniforms.
 |
| Marias restaurant... the pointy roof only, not the part to the left. |
We easily found the tiny hole
in the wall restaurant and of course, Maria spoke no English. We stumbled around with trying to tell her
Felix sent us, she smirked.
 |
| See the menu on the wall? |
We told her we wanted to have lunch and she waved at the
menu on the wall outside the order window.
We both stared it the words on the board intently trying not to look
like we had no idea what any of it said…
But wait! A few words were kind
of familiar… pollo guisada. That sounds
like something we eat!! We’ll have that! Oh, and whatever that next thing is – Carne
Molida. I think carne is meat… of some
kind… gulp. What have I done??? Oh well, whatever comes, we will eat it.
 |
| Typical Dominican Lunch |
We ordered agua purificado and the lady pointed to a bottled
water jug sitting on the floor.
Bien. She poured a pitcher and
handed us two glasses. No ice. Friends had warned us that drinking beverages
with ice in them could lead to woe… but we’ve had ice at several places and no
woe has befallen us… thus far. Hopefully
we can get through this meal and still make that claim!
A nice looking young woman who had been holding a baby
earlier began to set our table. Maria
asked me a question. No comprende. She called me over and had a spoon and two
small bowls of what looked like bean soup, one a reddish color and the other
more brown. I understood she was giving
me a taste to see which one we wanted… They were both good and I told her we
would take both. She seemed to
understand and served up two bowls.
Out came a big pile of white rice and two bowls with our
meat choices and a salad made from cabbage, carrots and pears. A bowl of home made oil dressing for the
salad completed our meal and we dug right in.
Everything was really good and we were starved!
 |
| Our Haitian friend... kind of shy... |
Very soon the restaurant got busy. The few tables were filling up with
boisterous workmen and I saw that there weren’t enough chairs. I offered an empty chair at our table to one
man who came in alone. He took it and
ordered.
Of course he spoke no English so I got out my phrase book.
It was very slow and lots of hand waving and gestures were involved but we had
a conversation of sorts. He was actually
Haitian and had been in the Dominican Republic for 30 years. He was very handsome. (Don’t tell Bruce I
said that)
 |
| I highly recommend Marias if you're ever in the neighborhood |
We finished our meal and got through asking for the check
and paying for the meal. Then we sort of
chatted a bit more with Maria and the Haitian man, they seemed to have decided
that we were OK. We complemented the
meal and left with a good feeling about our achievements. We had procured nourishment and made friends...
 |
| Still clean... |
Walking through the streets and seeing the poor homes along
the way, I wondered what these people could possibly think of us. I don’t think there is anything we could say
that wouldn’t sound like condescending, spoiled rich Americans trying to
pretend to blend in while slummin’ with the locals… It’s just impossible to
imagine what they must be thinking of us.
What’s even worse are the things going through my own mind as I see all of this…
 |
| Got Satellite!!! |
How can they live like this?
How can they be happy? What do
they do all day? How do they get
money? These people live in these tiny
towns like they are lost in time, while right now the larger cities are worlds
apart even though separated by only a few miles.
 |
| Boats were rolled down these tracks from garages to the water. |
We took a little spin in the dinghy along the shore to see the homes of "wealthy Dominicans from Santo Domingo". I have to say that they were less magnificent than I expected... but much nicer than the townsfolk's homes...
We retired back to our safe shell and spent the rest of the
day relaxing and watching the people come and go ashore.
We could hear music and laughter and we could see the long scoop of net being pulled in by many men on the shore.
Boats were rolled into the water using two poles and fishermen, either one or two per boat, would row out to check the fish traps.
From our private front row seat we watched it all... ending in another gorgeous sunset. We were the only sailboat around.
 |
| Fisherman heading out to check his traps |
 |
| Community fishing pulling in the nets |
There was no need to move on with the weather reports we were getting so the following day was spent doing piddly boat projects like scrubbing the boat bottom and checking zincs.
We swam and floated and just enjoyed the lay day without the need to bend our brains to communicating in Spanish. At this point it was almost a deterrent to going ashore. We were tired. We had small victories but it still seemed monumental in my mind... Just drowsing the day away was the path of least resistance.
We enjoyed the day while I mentally prepared for our early morning departure.
 |
| Huge Frigate Birds circled and dove. It was awesome to watch them! |
 |
| Gorgeous morning |
A pattern of sleepless nights is beginning to emerge... Our movements are restricted here in the DR. So far we've been lucky and the officials have been very nice. We haven't been asked for money or gifts, but with each move, I spend the night before tossing and turning with scenarios swirling around in my brain...
 |
| Pre-dawn net check... |
When we arrived in Palmar de Ocoa, we told the officials that we would like to leave at 7 a.m. in hopes that they would give us our Despacho the evening before... They did not. We were instructed to come and get our papers in the morning but there was no mention of a cost.
We would only be going about five miles but wanted to take
advantage of the light conditions while the Tradewinds were shutdown in the
early morning hours. And so, we were up before dawn and taking a dinghy ride back to the Guardia Post in the still morning.
 |
| Going to work early! |
Our plan worked and we had quite a pleasant time motoring
along the shoreline past the River Ocoa where fishermen plied their trade in
the sparkling early morning light. The
beauty of the landscape here is simply stunning. The misty valleys and smoke from many fires
makes for dramatic views.
 |
| Ocoa River Basin |
 |
| Peaceful trip |
 |
| Fish Farms |
 |
| Fish Farm Worker... |
 |
| Rounding the point we could see the anchorage |
Very soon we found the markers leading us into the bay where
we would spend the next three nights.
 |
| Guardia Post on the point |
 |
| Cool boat in the anchorage. |
 |
| Rvs and Tents on the peninsula |
On our way into the anchorage we could see what looked like an RV park. There were bunches of big white RVs and lots of activity. There were also white tents set up and we wondered if it was some sort of Holiday or festival.
 |
| Salt mining operation |
We could also see that there was a small salt mining operation going on. The chart showed vast salt pans on the peninsula and we could see a huge pile of salt near some buildings and what looked like maybe a loading facility.
From the looks of it, there was a lot going on her and if it’s anything like Palmar de Ocoa we will be happy!
It wasn’t.
 |
| The hotel and marina in Salinas |
Things started out very well. We found a spot to anchor and had some
breakfast. When we came out to get the
dinghy ready to go ashore, some men on a luxury yacht were yelling and
gesturing to us. We dinghied over and
they told us the Guardia were waiting for us.
We parked the dinghy alongside a helipad (???) and went to a
table beneath a palapa on the marina dock.
No English… Once again I pulled
out my written notes… I should know this shit by now… I told them where we came from, how long we
wanted to stay and where we were going from here.
This time I got smart… I told them we wanted to leave at
6:30 am on Sunday. Well, we had 11 hours
to go to our destination and we really did need to get going at daylight. As I had hoped, they told us to meet them
back at this spot on Saturday at 5 pm for our Despacho.
Due to the filming of a
movie starring Vin Diesel on the peninsula... we didn't even have to go to the Guardia Post to get our papers! They would bring them to us! AWESOME!!! At this point there was again no mention of a cost. We began to think that all of the rumors we had heard about corrupt officials were unfounded... but with so many more stops in our future we didn't want to become too complacent just yet...
Feeling pretty good about life... we continued on up the steps to the Hotel Salinas
where we felt like we had died and gone to heaven. The scene was pure tropical bliss with palm
trees, the beautiful mountains and the bay and a pool. The tropical décor was something out of a
movie. We asked for Jorge, the owner and
he came over and chatted briefly with us
in
English before lining out his staff to get our drinks and lunch on their
way.
 |
| Internet!!! I know... are these the only clothes I have??? |
We had delicious burger and chicken sandwich with
fries. Bruce had beer and I had not one,
but two rum punches. And Internet! They entered the wi-fi password into our
computers and we sat there munching and drinking and catching up on emails and
uploading pictures and downloading kindle books.
 |
| Small homes down one level from the road |
Finally done, we left the hotel and walked along the streets
of the town. It was more prosperous than
Palmar del Ocoa. There were people
around everywhere; the bars and restaurants were open. People zoomed by on mopeds, bikes and
vehicles of all types. The street seems
to be on a ridge with homes built below the level of the street. There are slopes cemented over and stairways
or driveways leading to the homes on one side.
The other side of the street had the same cemented slopes, only going
up. It was strange.
There were really nice homes and really not-so-nice homes
all rubbing elbows. There was some trash
in the town but it was mostly very clean if somewhat willy-nilly.
 |
| Recycling? |
 |
| Thousands of green bottles... |
 |
| The other side of the street sloped upward |
 |
| Warren's house has a raised walkway. |
 |
| Lots of bars on the windows |
 |
| A local business |
 |
| Roadblock |
We walked out onto the peninsula. The Guardia post was out on the end and as
well as what looked like a restaurant.
We had also seen a bunch of white tents and RVs parked in bunches and
wondered what they were doing there… As we came to a road-block we found
out. A guard greeted us and told us (no
English) that there was a movie being filmed with Vin Diesel. And no… we could not go and check it
out. We considered going back out there
in the dinghy and trying to make a run for it but decided against it because
they probably wouldn’t let me take my Spanish phrase book with me to jail…
 |
| Salinas Hotel |
Retracing our steps back toward the hotel, we stopped into a
tiny store. It turned out to be a
grocery store of sorts, again with all of the items for sale behind the
counter. We saw some breads and what
looked like a home-made candy. We bought
two. I can’t remember what he said they
were called but they were shaped like a fig newton with no center, just all
white. They tasted kind of like cookie
dough. Very yummy and only 10 pesos each.
Returning to our shell, we basked in the familiarity of
it. We were both feeling somewhat
overwhelmed. There wasn’t much to do
here in this town. There’s a salt mining
production plant out on the peninsula but if we can’t get to it, it doesn’t hold
much entertainment value. We had seen
buses going by but there wasn’t anyone who seemed inclined to help us poor
stupid Gringos out by volunteering any information… We felt suddenly very isolated.
But you know what? We
can just stay in our boat and recuperate for a day. We can just rest our tired brains in a place
where only English is spoken. No hostile
natives can infringe upon our lair out here in the water. And that’s what we did. We spent the entire next day making water,
cleaning house and doing laundry.
 |
| Big yacht about to crunch the boat behind us |
The next morning w had an anchor drill first thing... There’s nothing like the sound of an anchor
chain coming up in your back window to get the juices flowing. We were anchored off in front of a big luxury
yacht and they were leaving. Only one of
their chains was fouled with that of the small catamaran on our stern.
 |
| This guy went into the water to unhook the anchor |
We got dressed quickly and prepared to move our boat to give
them more room to maneuver but by the time we got going, they were just getting
it resolved. But not before a guy jumped
into the water to dive down and free the anchor. I can’t believe they didn’t crush that
catamaran.
We used this opportunity to anchor further back from the
wind on the other side of the marina where there was a bit more
protection. We were happy to see that
another cruiser had come into the anchorage… but alas, they only spoke French. That’s no help! I was unreasonably disappointed about
it. I NEED other English speaking people
to converse with… and pronto, or I fear I will lose my mind!!!
The day on our own did us both some good and we were ready
to go out and try the town again. I
wanted to eat out and it looked like the movie set was breaking up so we could
walk over to the salt mine.
In the late morning we heard someone hailing us from outside
the boat. ENGLISH!!! I scrambled up topside and found a dude
treading water. Within the first three
minutes of conversation we learned that he had been a merchant ship Captain but
there had been a little run-in with a woman whose hand he had kissed… and she
filed charges against him to get six months disability for mental anguish so
that she didn’t have to work… then there was the story about breaking a plate
after which they took his Captain’s license away for being “a habitual plate
breaker and hand kisser”… That’s a quote.
He then went on to tell us that Palmar del Ocoa was a dangerous place in
which he had been stabbed four times at 4:30 in the morning on a beach dead
drunk… hmmm… Thanks Joe!
We’ll take that under advisement.
BUT… he says that Salinas is completely safe!
He also told us that the fishermen had brought in some Tuna
yesterday and we perked right up. We had
seen what the Pescaderia was offering yesterday and it looked like bait fish…
But for tuna, maybe we could go into town early and ask around.
He swam off and we got ready to go ashore. We packed up our trash, hoping to find
someplace to leave it. One of the
wait-staff met us on the dock and agreed to take our trash for nothing… then he
thought better of it and asked for $10… We agreed to $5.
With that success we continued on to find fish. Armed with my words: Donde esta el pescaderia? And Tienes el atun? We got to the right places but there was no
atun… and we had no idea what else they were saying.
We continued on and bought some cakes and some more of those
dulce things we got the other day… 70
pesos for all. Then we walked down to
the salt plant. There were people there but we didn’t want to go to the trouble
to look up what we might say to them, so we just walked around taking
pictures. A tour would have been
awesome. It looked like they were using
tools from the dark ages.
The salt pile we could walk right up to answered our about
the huge white piles we had seen back on Great Inagua… What happens when the
piles get rained on? Well they form an
outer hard crust kind of like ice, only not cold. It was just the coolest thing. Guys were out there shoveling the salt onto a
rusty old vehicle of some sort that moved on a rail. Totally neat even if we didn’t get to learn
anything about it… At least they didn’t
run us off.
 |
| Cool chairs at the hotel |
We returned to the hotel with thoughts of another great meal
and some cervezas and rum punches before we clear out. Our waitress today spoke NO English… didn’t
even try. I tried my best, even whipped
out Google Translate to ask properly for a rum punch. No tiene.
WTF??? They had some two days
ago! What happened?
That set the tone for our whole experience there today. Bruce wanted to use his computer but since he
had used his tablet the last time (and it had the password stored) she wouldn’t
give it to him today for his laptop. I
don’t think she realized that my computer was connected to the internet…
We ordered dinner and using the computer… I translated “then
I’ll just have a glass of water”… I
guess her lack of interest in communicating with me cost them a little bit. I was a little miffed but kept it down. I don’t want to mess anything up here. We need that Despacho but by this time I had
to squelch Conspiracy-Theory-Thoughts.
Dang… what happened between the last time we were here and today? What did we do??? We asked for Jorge but were told he was
unavailable.
Then the guy in the camo duds came out. No English.
At all. None. I told him we needed our Despacho and that we
were told to meet the Official from before here at the marina at 5pm to receive
our Despacho for departure tomorrow. I
will not bore you with the entire convoluted story as it would increase this
already long post by more than twice again…
Excuses, stories, explanations… bla bla bla… I played innocently dumb… They called in
another guy to explain… then another dude came over… sort of a Good-Cop-Bad-Cop
game. But I’ve got a game of my own…
Dumb Blond Gringa! And I had a secret
weapon…
At one point Bruce started to get fed up and I had to give
him The Look so that he didn’t mess
this up for me.... The last guy explained that they could fix us all up but the
guy would like maybe $10 for the gas from here to the Guard Hut (about a mile
away on a tiny motorbike…). Bruce said
he would rather pay the $10 than dinghy across the Bay… so I agreed. They all went over and sat at another table
and I pulled out my secret weapon.
I walked over to their table and told them that I had made
these brownies for the other Official who had told us to meet him here for
being so nice to us, but since he wasn’t here, I would give the brownies to
them. The all looked sheepish and said
thank you (in English)… and I walked back to my table.
In a few minutes they told me that the brownies were
delicious (in English) and the Camo Duds Dude came back over to tell me that he
would meet me down at the dock with our Despacho… I started to rise to follow
him and he motioned to come when we were done eating…
Well our dinner wasn’t as great as it was the first day
after all of this drama… It isn’t the ten bucks… it’s the DRAMA!!! If you want us to give you a gift…just tell
us and we’ll do it. No threats needed…
When we finished eating and arrived back at the dock, there
was another guy clearing in… and American!!!
Who spoke ENGLISH!!! He was all
chatty-and I worried that the Official wouldn’t like it. But Camo Dude seemed fine with it as he
copied my information from our Crew List onto our Despacho. We gave him the “gift” of 500 pesos, which
was about $11 (it’s what we had) and left with smiles. We had it.
We were free to leave.
I will say that this strange treatment has soured our image
of Salinas somewhat. But after some
meditation on it, I can say that independent of the strangeness… nope. It’s a strange place. It’s like there’s some kind of sinister
undercurrent going on that I can’t explain.
So next time around I would say give Palmar del Ocoa a hit, and Salinas
a miss…
Tomorrow morning we will leave this place. We have our Despacho and with any luck we
will get settled into Marina Zar-Par before dark. I’m still hoping that my mental block against
Spanish will eventually tumble down and things will begin to stick so it isn’t
so difficult.
For sure I have a new respect for anyone traveling or living
in a country where the language spoken is not his or her own... including ME!
So next time you’re on the phone and you hear that prompt: For English, press 1… JUST DO IT!
and move on...
We took a little spin in the dinghy along the shore to see the homes of "wealthy Dominicans from Santo Domingo". I have to say that they were less magnificent than I expected... but much nicer than the townsfolk's homes... 
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