Rough crossing Lindsay McRory December 11, 1996 For Kita and Wesley it's school as usual By late November, most boats in Luperon were going back to Florida or to Puerto Rico. Numerous small weather windows had opened up and some people took advantage of them. There were five boats, including ourselves, bound for Puerto Rico that left within the same two weeks. Piquant, a 30-foot sailboat, was the first to leave. On their second night out they found themselves a little too close to the surf line and beached in Escondito Bay on the north coast of the Dominican Republic. With their boat pounding into the beach they grabbed some essentials and got ready to spend the night in a nearby cave. The local fishermen quickly surrounded the boat with thoughts of quick booty before a representative of the navy showed up dressed in a loincloth and touting a machine gun. He made it clear that the boat was not to be touched and stayed at the entrance to the cave while Randy and Margaret tried to get some sleep. Piquant took a heavy pounding until the tide went out. Water had found its way inside so the damage was quickly adding up. The next morning Piquant was high and dry. The underdressed naval person worked quickly to organize a group to drag Piquant back to sea using manpower, anchors, and an old fishing dugout with a outboard motor. After several hours, the 20 or so people of the small fishing village dragged Piquant back out. Although engineless and without electronics, they had their home back. Now the villagers wanted to be compensated for their efforts; they thought they had won the lottery. After handing out all the cash, alcohol, and cigarettes the couple had, the villagers still wanted more. Again the naval representative came in and made it clear that Randy and Margaret had nothing else to give. Aggressively pointing his machine gun, he cleared a path for them back to the boat. Piquant sailed to Samana on the east coast of the D.R. where they had its engine fixed. Piquant is currently at the marina in Boqueron, Puerto Rico, waiting for a survey because they suspect structural damage as a result of the beaching. Our trip was less eventful. After a early start out of Luperon we sailed a parallel course to the north coast of the D.R. Twenty-eight hours later we were at Capo Cabron, the northwest tip of the D.R. We sailed for the north coast of Puerto Rico until we were 25 miles from shore, then sailed south for Boqueron. We took this route to avoid afternoon thunderheads that form over Puerto Rico and drift across the Mona Passage at night, wreaking havoc on boaters. By midnight, Mona wanted to flex a muscle and threw in 30-knot winds and 15-foot seas. Sailing a longer course to the north paid big dividends. We watched numerous lightning-packed squalls pass to the south of us. When the wind picked up, we were at a comfortable angle to it. Kita and Wesley were both seasick for the first time in over a year; fortunately the passage was nearly over. Coast Guard boardings are the norm crossing Mona Passage. We fully expected to be boarded, but were only buzzed twice by a Coast Guard helicopter. Our friends on Pegasus were boarded. A Coast Guard cutter came up behind them at high speed with no running lights, jamming Pegasus's radar. Within a boat length of Pegasus they turned on a few billion candlepower. Via radio they instructed Pegasus to maintain course and speed. The Coast Guard cutter launched a tender and sent four very polite and very well-armed men aboard to perform a safety inspection. Finding no deficiencies, the Coast Guard bade Pegasus good night and went on their way. Fifty-two hours later we arrived in Boqueron unscathed. It was a fairly uneventful trip for us, but I was amazed at the number of boats that had difficulties on this stretch. Besides Piquant's beaching, See-Ya was hit by lightning and lost all electronics, Walk-About broke a steering cable, Bisque's engine seized and she is still on the north coast of the D.R. Two weeks of torrential rain made Hakuna Matata's interior smell like a locker room. The smell was only a temporary inconvenience. The moisture eventually over took some of our electronic gear and knocked out our satellite communications system and a GPS. In the Dominican Republic we had no alternative method of data communications. Waiting for a new satellite unit to be shipped would be time-consuming and risky. So we were out of touch. It felt more like falling off the edge of the world. No more weather information from the Internet, no more piles of e-mail to sift through every day. The invisible tether that linked us to the fast pace of the business world had been severed. Cruising took on a new perspective.