We were in no way ready to leave Santo Domingo, but a weather window had opened up for crossing the Mona Passage between the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico, and we needed to take it. It’s a stretch of water notorious for beating up boats that try to cross during less than ideal weather, so when the trade winds were forecast to die for a couple of days we had to say goodbye.
Clearing out in Santo Domingo was a breeze in the morning and we were quickly on our way. The guys around the marina tossed off our lines, opened up the debris gate entrance on the river, and we cruised down and out with nobody else on the water.
Just two hours away is a nice bay with a marina. We didn’t technically need to fill the tanks, but I like going to sea on full, so we pulled in at the marina’s fuel dock expecting to quickly fill up and be on our way.
No can do. Seemingly from out of nowhere we had customs and immigration officers hanging around the dock while we filled up, not even having stepped off the boat. They asked to see our clearance papers, then insisted we needed a new one since our last port was now, technically, this one.
It took about an hour, of course, and then when we were ready to go, a guy who had been sound asleep on the dock in the shade of our boat woke up and climbed aboard with the other customs officer. Red eyed and groggy the morning after Independence Day, he made a show of letting us see the gun tucked in his waist band while the other guy had me open up drawers while he photographed them. Here’s a picture of some men’s underwear. Her’s a picture of some t-shirts. Here’s a picture of some shorts. Not finding any drugs sitting on top of the underwear, the search was complete, and we were free to go. A solid two hour fuel stop.
We pulled into a bay near the entrance to the Mona about, oh, two hours after dark, dropped the anchor and got a good night of sleep. Early in the morning while it was still dark we got underway, eager to move on before any officials could spot us and come out.
Seas were pretty flat, for the most part, with some confused lumpy seas in parts. We certainly couldn’t complain, and by late afternoon we were entering Puerto Real, on the west coast of Puerto Rico.
Sailors tentatively investigating the mixed platter of empanadillas.
Almost rasta.
We just hung out in the bay for a few days. The marina here was super friendly, even to those of us not staying with them, which is not always the case. There were plenty of good places to eat, laundry machines available, a nice spot for the kids to grab ice cream, and a calm anchorage at night. Nothing to complain about here.
11 Comments on “From D.R. to P.R.”
That last pic of your wife and son is magical- Your a lucky man..
ha ha, I just saw the update myself and did not like that photo one bit. So funny you just posted that.
I liked your comment about a full tank. My flight instructor used to say there are two things utterly useless when you fly: The runway behind you, and the gas that is not in your tank. 🙂
Actually, the saying is: “The three most useless things in flying are altitude above you, runway behind you and fuel in the truck!”
That Puerto Rican take on the ubiquitous toilet brush is classic. 🙂
Hoping to see you here in St Thomas next.
How quickly things have changed with the Coronavirus. Stay healthy, Doug, and hope we make it your way eventually.
Have you eaten mofongo yet? A delicious dish we loved when we were in PR! Especially with the pork-YUM! They do justice to the piggy there. Have fun!
Yes, got it in Old San Juan last weekend – oh wow, YUM. And yes pork.
PS
If you rent a car PR is such fun to explore & this is a fantastic Sunday outing:
https://www.puertoricodaytrips.com/guavate-lechon-and-music/
Thanks, maybe after the lockdown…