Crawling into a mangrove hole before Bertha blows Lindsay McRory July 7, 1996 Still at Ambergris Cay on July 6, I lumbered out of bed at 6:30 a.m. to get the weather reports. It seems to be a habit. The winds were blowing 15 to 20 knots already and promised 25 to 30 for the afternoon. We really didn't have plans to sail out of this area, until the weather reports revealed Tropical Storm Bertha--soon to be Hurricane Bertha--heading in our direction. Being on Caicos Bank (or any bank) during a hurricane is bad, very bad. The wide-open anchorages are usually only safe in settled weather. The only reasonably safe hurricane hole within 500 miles of us is Luperon in the Dominican Republic. It was a 125-nautical-mile close reach. It took about a hour to stow and lash everything down in preparation for a tough passage. We put a double reef in the main and a single reef in the mizzen while at anchor. The hooks came up after a struggle and we threaded the coral head maze out of Ambergris Cay. It took several hours to clear the banks into deep blue water. Fifteen-foot seas (measured from trough to crest) greeted us with their tops getting blown off nicely by the 25 knots of wind. The winds picked up in the early afternoon, but soon slowed to a moderate 20 knots. Our boat speed maintained a impressive seven and a half knots with periods when we hit eight and a half knots. We were a little under-canvassed with a No. 2 jib and a double reef in the main. Hakuna Matata was in her element. But it was a little much for the rest of the family. The big seas had pretty much confined the kids to their sea berths. Denise wasn't so amused by my constant sh*t-eating grin. I expected a walloping, but instead we had a slightly bumpy--but very fast--passage. We arrived off Hispaniola Island well before dawn. We furled the jib and watched the morning sun uncover this gorgeous mountain-covered island. We could smell the island five miles out to sea. It's an exotic and spicy smell, which after being in the odorless Bahamas for four months came as an unexpected treat. Comandacia's big visit We were at anchor in Luperon 26 hours later and flew our quarantine flag that signaled for the Comandacia to pay us a visit. He arrived shortly with his entourage of five. The paperwork was handled quickly and efficiently, after which his interpreter informed us the gratuity was $20. I gave them $10, but he stated firmly it was $20. There is a barracuda swimming around out there that someday will be drinking this rum we purchased for the Comandacia. Luperon is a real cruiser's hangout. Nothing trendy about this place. We've met great people from all over the world on our first day. Today's in-town dinner special was goat-on-a-spit (we told the kids it was beef, but they didn't fall for it). We sat with people from England, Spain, France, the United States, and Canada. Luperon itself is a remote farming community with few tourist facilities. The people are very poor, but very friendly and helpful. I suspect everyone would be in better spirits--more of a party mood--if not for Hurricane Bertha, which is expected to pass by us on July 8 or 9, bringing 70-knot winds. Tomorrow morning we will likely raise anchors and head into a mangrove swamp in preparation for the high winds. Most cruisers are busy in their dinghies sounding the sides of the mangrove with poles or oars. We'll tie off with the bow in and drop two stern anchors to pull us out of the mangroves after it passes. Hopefully it won't pass too close.