Stu and Dave 'surfing' in the harbour

Bloody awful is the only way to describe Bryan Habana’s showing at the weekend. His mustache I mean, though his rugby talents weren’t nearly as prominent as that rat hanging below his nose. Add the entire Aussie team in and you’ve got a full display of bad facial hair. November, as I prefer to remember it, capped an excellent year for Irish rugby, played 11, won 10, drew 1. Kel and I listened online at the weekend and then caught the highlights on iPlayer, four seconds at a time. Sadly the internet in Luperon is pretty patchy.

The end of Movember marks a significant milestone for us, our first year on the water! You may have noticed a few updates on the blog recently, some design modifications and the addition of a Google maps image of our trip here, and here. I’ve really enjoying going through our ship’s log, which my captain faithfully completes (up to the BVIs anyhow), reflecting on our progress so far, remembering friends on land and sea along the way. You can check our progress to date, which today is all the way to West Palm Beach. Soon I’ll have got us all the way to Luperon and it’ll be ‘live’ from then on.

We’re grateful for the generosity of others that’s carried us through thus far. We started out with a small, but we thought sufficient amount of money to get through the year, and very quickly realised how expensive this sailing lark can be. Friends and acquaintances have stuck their necks out along the way to help us solve problems with gaffer tape and hose clamps, or just fed us when we were low on morale.

Morale has been a little low of late. Luperon has become a fairly depressing place, and one that we and our friends are keen to get out of. Last time I wrote about the corrupt officials, which is a pain in the ass, but the truly depressing aspects of life here are much more related to sex work and alcohol. Two weeks ago I was sitting in one of the two gringo bars in town, Shaggy’s, and overheard a hideous, and yet so typical conversation. I’ll disguise the names for the sake of confidentiality:

Gregorio was talking with Jimmyorio about the recent visit of his girlfriend’s (read sex worker’s) fourteen year old nephew to Luperon. He came for the weekend, and was excited to visit Luperon as he had never been here, and also to stay on a boat. The three of them were out in a local Dominican bar restaurant where the ladies of the night, and morning and afternoon, meet clients. Gregorio’s girlfriend disappears for a few minutes and comes back with a lady for her nephew and the two of them disappear for the evening. Sentences like “I just had so much respect for her” and “ I mean, imagine if your aunt bought you a piece of ass when you were 14” were among the most notable. Auntie Jacqui did bust out a few tricks that mum doesn’t need to know about, but buying ass was not on the list.

These guys are hanging out on the edge of reality, dying to believe their allure lies anywhere but their wallets. Mum just emailed having returned from Thailand, sorry Padraig Thy-land, and it sounds like a very parallel culture. The girls in town are astute, and sadly realise that the gringos present them with a much more lucrative revenue stream than any jobs in the area. And judging by the physical condition of the average gringo, and the recommended daily alcohol consumption in Luperon, they aren’t troubled too often to maintain their half of the contribution. Quite a few gringos who’ve been in Luperon harbour for more than a season have developed considerable alcohol problems, two I’ve met have severe liver problems and are off booze altogether, its a dead end town for some people, particularly older men.

The most damaging aspect of this gringo intervention is how Dominican men view their women. The prostitution that is essentially encouraged and facilitated by society as money makes its way to the families of the women overtly or through unspoken transactions. At the same time the women are dismissed as whores. It is not uncommon for Dominican men to have multiple girlfriends simultaneously, and to make no effort to hide it, resulting in an instability in relationships that women respond to by putting their wares on display to provide for themselves. Prostitution is perhaps too strong a word for what occurs among Dominicans, but it is certainly trading ass-ets.

Of course I wouldn’t want to comment on all this sexual activity without sampling it myself! Not quite, but a funny occurrence none the less. I’ve had a couple of humorous mix ups with my friend Moreno who works at the factory, one of which occurred recently and was reminded of as we went out to dinner with Yasmin and her family in Las Maras, a few miles outside of Luperon. Moreno and I communicate in pigeon Spanish often, and for a while I really felt like I was making progress. When Moreno invited me to attend his graduation ceremony for the George Washington school of English as he was being presented with a certificate I of course obliged, very happy to be included. I arrived at the prearranged time only to discover that I was actually the equivalent of a prom date for his 15 year old friend. We paraded up the street arm in arm captured on videos and cameras throughout the town, and I got on stage with Yasmin for a photo when she was presented with her certificate.

On Saturday night we were treated to dinner with Yasmin’s extended family from gran to cousins. They were fantastically hospitable, a big spread of pollo, papas fritas, huevos, kayote, berejenas, zanahoria, cerveza, jugo de chinola (check out Google Translate if you’re lost). We were totally stuffed. The whole evening proceeded in limited Spanish, Keli’s capacity being vastly superior to mine, and we took our photo album to show them some images of us from Ireland and Canada. Next year we’ll come back so that I can take Yasmin as my second wife. And sometime shortly after I predict that I will magically become a eunuch.

In a bid to lift the mood in Luperon Dave and I got the surfboard out a few days ago and tried some watersurfing, or is it surfskiing off the back of the dinghy. We had a laugh cruising round the anchorage and waking the boats nearby. It was great to get physical again in the water. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that that water is full of 18,000 people’s excrement on outgoing tides, and just to confirm that there are indeed fertile organisms in there I had a headache for three days and felt like my sinus’ were exploding. Some good bugs got flushed up there when I wiped out. We’ll get out there again though, it made me pine for clear waters again.

Today we celebrated Karmen’s birthday! First mate, cook and Captain Fun on Ellida, Karmen’s been an excellent friend to us since we first met in Georgetown, and pancake breakfast was a good way to usher in the day. Ellida are probably heading out of Luperon a little ahead of us, but we’re really excited about catching them further down the chain. We may indeed coordinate a passage to Hawaii at some stage. It’s not written in to Plan A yet, but in sailing we learn that an alphabet of plans can be overwritten with the slightest change in circumstance.

Dave and Danielle have been performing some heroic feats aboard Beannacht of late. Danielle and Keli have spent many hours in front of the sewing machine working on our dinghy cover and some dresses for Kel. Dave and I checked the alignment of our engine and transmission, and adjusted our PSS drip-less shaft seal. They’re also headed for St Maarten, hopefully ahead of us, and we’re excited about hanging out with them in future.

Muma - the town goat.

So this week we’re changing gear. It’s 25 days till Keli’s birthday, 26 till Christmas, and we’re injecting some urgency into our game. We’ve made some real improvements to the boat while in Luperon, not least by the efforts of Dennis and Pat during their visit, but it’s time to finish the projects that are open and postpone the rest for the New Year. I’ve a little more work to do for Lucas at the factory, but ideally we’ll leave Luperon before Christmas and make our way to St Maarten.

And that’s about it for now.

Monday 29 June

Home brewing on the boat - 52 pints for 12 buck and a 'borrowed' water bottle

We finally made it somewhere…on time! The last while has felt like we’ve been trying to push boulders up hills. Two weeks in Luperon and three in San Juan, waiting for weather, waiting for the opportunity to move east, waiting to meet mum and dad. Living the dream just hasn’t been living up to it’s marketing. You of course rightfully ask why is this whining bastard writing about his hard life when all it consists of is snorkelling, gin and tonics at sunset and reading books?

I’m not totally sure. But difficult it has been, and we’ve had to dig a little deeper in ourselves to stick with it. If money wasn’t in the picture I think we’d feel much more content at sea, but after mum and dad head home we’re going to stop and work somewhere for a few months to rejuvenate our bank accounts.

Miserable bastard moments aside, it is a real relief to get to the Virgin Islands. After the hammering we took crossing from D.R. to Puerto Rico neither of us were that excited about making more miles in an easterly direction. Thankfully as the deadline drew closer the weather also started to cooperate. We were finishing some jobs on the boat to our usual schedule – last minute – and being held back by 24 hours because we hadn’t finished actually worked out perfectly as we got a 36 hour window with light winds and calm seas.

We arrived in Trellis Bay at lunchtime yesterday, had a nap and got the boat ready for our guests. And it turns out they were late! Their flight had been delayed en route and they’d missed a connection. We skyped mum quickly from the boat and discovered they were well and in Antigua with an entire basketball team and would arrive this morning.

We’ve watched loads of the Lions tour as you would expect, and as I have mentioned earlier, and I’ve been struck by how many individuals are putting their hand up for donkey of the series. Vickery and Monye stoked my racist sentiments in the first match (against the English of course), and then our own O’Gara gave away a match losing penalty in the last minute of the second test, which I’m sad to say we missed because we were at sea. But this morning it’s South African coach Peter de Villers who takes the award with a series of ridiculous comments in reference to eye gouging and violence in the sport. Fabulous and well deserved, now please someone take him out the back and introduce him to Walter Wink. Brent he’s your countryman, it’s really your responsibility.

San Juan had a few high points that I forgot to mention in my wallowing. Firstly we met Judith, a Puerto Rican boat dweller who lives and works from her boat in the marina. We had loads of fun hanging out with her and meeting her folks, they treated us to a home-cooked Puerto Rican meal and hugged us like we were their long lost children! Judith also helped us buy some boat stuff at local prices and lent us her beautiful Suburu to do some messages (Keli still get’s a kick out of me calling shopping ‘messages’, just like my gran).

I also did my PADI Open Water scuba diving certification while we were there, my birthday present from Kel. I’ve never dived before so it was great to grab the opportunity while we had the time, and means that Kel and I can rent tanks and dive together if we ever fancy it in future.

An email from Fermanagh reminded me that in my drunkenness or through sunstroke I’d forgotten that cats are the gypsies of the animal kingdom. I’m sure that’s in no way a reference to the traveller population, but rather an affectionate nod to the desert fathers. Regardless, Anzuelo our little fish hook has become a permanent fixture on the boat, and what a little delight he is. In the first 48 hours he charmed us with his playful kitten personality, and so we took him to the vet for his shots. In the next 48 hours he proceeded to shit on the vacuum cleaner, piss on two beds and a settee, and hack chunks out of our ankles. I was for leaving him at the marina, but we persevered and he’s shaping up ok, although still struggling to conduct his affairs inside the box. No doubt dad will be delighted with him when he arrives!

I forgot to mention a few things in the last while that occurred aboard Beannacht. We brewed our own beer – 52 pints of the stuff – and it tastes pretty good. Only about 25 pints left. We demolished another television series that we loved, adding Fringe to the list that already included Weeds and Dexter.

That’s it for now… the rents arrived safely and we’ve some comedy to add in our next post, and some guest writing.

Just a quick one to touch base before dinner with our new found friends David and Lucia – Dave is best friends with Mark the rigger in Sailcraft, and he hooked us up with the guys for some food, showers and laundry!

We arrived in West Palm Beach – or probably North Palm Beach actually but when you’re at anchor in an inlet it’s difficult to be specific – on Saturday morning, a 36 hour hop from St Augustine. The sail down was straight forward and we managed a 3 hour watch schedule despite the cold which allowed for more sleep overnight. We motored into the anchorage and by 8.45am had killed the motor and hooked up the wireless internet to find the Ireland match online.

My watching iPlayer schemes have failed thus far and we settled for buying the game online on Setanta. It was great to watch the troops overcome the frogs in a long overdue display of reasonable rugby. Kidney’s post-match interview was really funny too, not quite as suave as Eddie, and no mention of the football? His low-key ‘Ireland only has 4 professional teams…’ approach seemed to do the trick.

Last night we had dinner on Antic, our neighbour’s Tic and Andre’s boat in the anchorage. Tic and Andre motored over about an hour after we arrived on Saturday to invite us for dinner. They’re an English couple who’ve been cruising for four years and we spent a great evening chatting with them and hearing about some of the places they’d visited and picking their brains on problem solving aboard the boat.

Another trip to customs again today to clear in to Palm Beach and get our exit papers for Bahamas. Again the staff were helpful and straightforward, actually much easier to deal with than their counterparts in airports. We’re now all done with officialdom in USA, and with luck will make landfall at West End on Thursday.

Today we also bought our snorkelling gear and equipment for spear fishing. Water in the Bahamas is aparently among the clearest in the world and outside of the densely populated ports the fish are plentiful. Kel and I intend to develop our lung capacity and maintain our Omega 3s by spearing fish on a daily basis. Photos of our catch will follow, once we’ve mastered the art of the Hawaiian sling.

Our battery bank died late yesterday evening and we spent a few hours scratching our heads trying to work out why we had lost so much charge since we switched off the engine on Saturday. I realised in the middle of the night that the invertor that we use to charge the computer isn’t currently routed through the battery monitor, and so my power consumption calculations had missed out a really important current draw. I’ve been searching the deep recesses of my brain for my old A-level physics notes (dad would of course be proud), trying to remember the relationship between amps and watts etc.

So off to dinner. Tomorrow we’re switching back into boat maintainence mode with a list of jobs we want to get through before we set sail later in the week. I’ll keep you posted.