Kaimusailing

While we were at the marina office I took photos of the two girls that work the office 7 days a week. They sing together when a tune is playing, and when I asked them if they sing together anywhere else, they acted as if they don’t sing at all. Then they accused each the other of singing, ha ha. I took pictures of them and directed them to flickr and sailblogs where the pictures will appear. They said they were of the 98 percent of women who like to have their pictures taken.
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The next day was humid but we had to prepare to leave Punta Cana. Photos were uploaded to flickr. No time to update the blog. Skipper decided we could refuel by taking jerry cans by taxi and not have to leave our slip, motor over, and try to jam the boat back into the narrow slip after getting fuel. He reasoned that the ordeal of motoring over to get a few gallons of fuel would not be worth it and a cab ride would be much easier.
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It turned out the cabbie could not speak English and had trouble understanding our hand signals and gestures. We had our trusty hand held VHF radio and could call the marina office and have our problems ironed out. We had arrived at a gas station, not the marina fuel dock, and the gas station was getting its diesel tank filled and we would not be able to draw diesel from their pumps for about 35 minutes. The marina talked to the cabbie in Spanish and to us in English. The marina fuel dock was also tied up with a large fishing vessel getting diesel, a 20 minute delay. We just had to be patient and wait.
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Our new crewman was arriving at the airport, and taking a cab to the marina. He is a Spanish speaker, arriving now on the day we are leaving the one place he could have been a lot of help.
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The fueling process did not go as planned. Before we left for the gas station we had emptied a couple of jerry cans into the fuel tanks, 10 gallons worth. At the station we fueled up 5 5 gallon cans and one 7 gallon can. Back at the boat we emptied the 7 and 4 of the 5‘s into the tanks. That’s 37 gallons of diesel consumed in 23 hours of sailing and we mostly ran the generator for air conditioning at the owner’s request, but the generator must be consuming a lot of fuel. The engine propels us and charges the DC circuits, does not provide AC for the air conditioning. The bottom line is that we need good sailing conditions to make it all the way to Miami if we are going to make it on what fuel we have.
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The fueling process was very time consuming, taking the jerry cans by golf cart to the taxi parking area, waiting for a taxi, taking the taxi to the gas station, waiting for them to finish fueling up their diesel tank, taxi back to the taxi parking area, waiting for another golf cart to take us and the fuel to the boat, wait, the cart never shows up, what? they went to the boat and waited for us there? no comprende, they come to the parking area and take us to the boat. We fill the tanks and need to refill some of the jerry cans. Skipper will go do that while I wait for the new crew to arrive. New crew arrives right at that time. He and skipper go over some details of the boat, then decide they will both go on the trek to the gas station to fill the cans. Off they go. I am eating a sandwich, wisely, and suggest the skipper get some food. He says he will when he gets back.
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I go below where the air conditioning is doing some good and load more pictures from the camera into the computer. I finish up some writing and listen to jazz. I’ve already loaded 17 waypoints into the chartplotter and now am looking at more of the data displays. The fuel patrol returns a lot more quickly than the first run. I make a sandwich for the skipper. New crew has had lunch before his flight and isn’t hungry. We continue to show him how more of the stuff on this boat works.
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We have been at the marina office a couple of times and look into the marine store next door. They have frozen fish and steaks. Skipper knows I want to add more protein to the galley’s supplies. New crew speaks to the storekeeper in Spanish and says we can get fresh fish from one of the fishing boats at a much lower price than this frozen fish. We buy 4 lbs. of hamburger in the form of 8 hamburger patties. It is frozen and it will go into a pasta sauce, probably. We also buy a small jar of salsa to spice up guacamole, we have native avocados on board and lots of onions.
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On the way back to the boat we stop at a fishing boat. This is not some rustic native craft but a modern high powered twin screw diesel sportfisher. They have a couple of mahi mahi left and a wahoo. The wahoo is a big fish, more than we need. I need 6 filets for two meals. A 12 lb. mahi mahi is purchased for 24 bucks. 31 and they will filet and package the fish for us. Good deal. They end up taking 30 dollars and we get 4 or 5 lbs. of fish.
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We ask for customs and immigration to clear us out of Punta Cana for Miami. New crew, Ron is his name, asks where are we going? We don’t know yet, the boat’s mast is too tall to go into any of the ICW marinas and there has been a lot of hurricane damage that is limiting available dock space in the Miami area. Maybe Ft. Lauderdale, speaking of which, skipper calls the owner of our projected next delivery and that boat is in a boatyard way behind schedule. It looks like we will head back to St. Marys after this delivery. Someone wants a Beneteau delivered from Belize to Florida, hmm.
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The customs officials don’t arrive. We wait and wait. Ron, our new crew, makes a lot of progress getting things explained to our Spanish speaking marina helpers. Customs has to get an agent from the airport and it will take a little longer. We sit around and talk sea stories.
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The agents arrive and want to know why we want to leave now when it is getting dark. Arrrgh, Ron is very good with them. Apparently he gets them to believe we are some sort of fearless professionals who are equally happy to sail in any conditions, day, night , rain, storm. They stamp our passports, we pay the clearance fee, fire up the engine, and slowly begin to motor out of the tight slip. I toss the boathook into the cockpit and it somehow finds a way into the water. Wait, a customs lady yells, we have to back down, creep back nearly hitting a piling while skipper climbs down the sugar scoop stern and grabs the boathook out of the water. Then we professionally leave as the sun sets.