Strange encounters at sea

The storm had left its traces over a wide area. Floods, landslides and mudslides occurred all over the island. The water was cloudy like café au lait and we had to navigate practically blind through the reef out to the open sea. Joanna did not let herself be deterred by this at all, she wanted to get out and hopped around excitedly on the foredeck armed with camera and radio. The radio to warn me if she recognized the reef... the camera if she wouldn’t. Anyway, we were on our way and finally left this nasty port. We had to orientate ourselves on land bearings because the buoys which normally should mark the reef were moved by the storm or were completely torn away. Slowly and foot by foot we found our way and entered deeper water.

Taking a deep breath, a highfive with the crew and we set the sails. The crew is actually just Joanna and me, but this time we had a medical student on board who wanted to volunteere and to sail with us to the disaster area in Haiti. We thought it was a great idea as he could help us with the handling of medicines and such things. As far as we knew there was no medical care on the surrounding islands. A doctor and some kind of hospital could only be found in Les Cayes... at least before the storm.

Bamba Maru seemed to feel comfortable. Although she was actually far too heavily loaded, she behaved very well. We sailed west along the north coast of the Dominican Republic to reach the Windward Passage between Haiti and Cuba. The sea was very treacherous and rough at that time, but Bamba Maru did not mind. She danced bravely through the wave crests and dolphins accompanied us into a blood red sunset. For us, the first one at sea by the way since a long time.

Shortly before the sun had dipped into the sea, our fishing line rushed buzzing from the spool. A wahoo wanted to join in for dinner. We couldn't refuse and so we took the big fish on board. It was enough for the crew, the two dogs and the tomcat. We wanted to get used to the fact that in Haiti there will be no such thing like shopping facilities. We had to live self-sufficiently in order not to use the limited resources of the survivors.

In the night a gale came up and we had to rig the storm sail. The waves had become dangerously high. Although it was a pitch black night and we couldn't see anything, we could still feel the height of the swell. You could hear how some waves started to break high above our heads and only hope that nothing would get in the way when the boat plunged into the wave valley. But this hope went in vain shortly after midnight. An echo appeared on the radar. We had something very big in front of us. Even with binoculars we couldn't see a thing - there had to be a commercial ship or something like that very close.

The signal was getting clearer but we couldn't see it. Obviously an unlit freighter floating around in the storm. Maybe something else that has been broken free since the hurricane. We respectfully kept our distance and were glad when the signal disappeared from the radar again.

Surprise visit

The next morning we had just reached Cape Tiburon in southern Haiti and the storm had calmed down a bit. One tired bird had probably fought the storm all night long and landed exhausted on board with us. Normally they don't find the company of our dogs and especially of the cat so inviting, but this one was really done. Our new passenger stayed with us the whole day until the wind calmed down and he had recovered sufficiently. In the evening he stretched his wings, did two laps around our mast and disappeared towards Haiti.

Usually we avoid arriving in unknown areas at night. But this time everything was different. We waited for the cover of darkness and switched off all our lights to get to the protected bay on the island Ille a Vache as undetected as possible. We already had contact with the mayor of the island before the trip and the people there knew that we were coming - just not exactly when. We have kept this a secret for security reasons. With all our cargo we were fat prey and Haiti already had its reputation for assault and murder on sailors. All that was certainly not much better after the hurricane, just that they probably didn't have any boats left. So the challenge was not to get mugged while the relief supplies were still on board. The nerves were on edge for the last 20 miles but we managed to sneak into the bay unseen from people on the mainland. We dropped anchor and lay down to rest exhausted.

When prejudices get tested

A crackling broke the calm night. The whole ship was shaking and – bang - again our portside hull slammed into the beach. The anchor did not hold as it had only fallen on torn palm leaves instead of on the sand. Suddenly I realized that we had a big problem. Even before I could overlook the whole situation, out of the darkness men were climbing onto the boat. Nobody said a word, but they were everywhere. At no time were there at least ten locals on board and maybe 20 or more were cavorting around our stranded ship. Any fight or resistance would have been futile and I rushed to lock Marley in the salon before he had the idea to defend us. They weren't armed and didn't seem threatening, except that there were many of them and I didn't know if we were about to be unloaded right now or what would happen next. They pushed, pushed and pulled while I tried with a screaming engine to get the boat free from the beach. So obviously they didn't want to rob or kill us or anything. On the contrary, without us understanding a word, they all helped to get the boat off the shore. It seemed hopeless, we weighed at least 25 tons with the whole load on board and yet the ship suddenly detached with a jerk and was free again.

When the hectic rush was gone and the boat was now safely anchored, we noticed that our helpers had disappeared just as quickly as they came out of nowhere before. Nobody wanted anything or had taken anything. But they were all gone again. Confused but happy our eyes closed. The next morning we picked up the anchor and went further into the Henry Morgan Bay to anchor closer to land. On the hill there were dozens of locals who were walking around and waving to us. Anyway, they made such movements with both arms which could be interpreted as a welcoming wave. Joanna stood on the foredeck and happily returned the nice greeting. We waved back and was totally surprised by this nice welcome. When we were newly anchored and had let the dinghy into the water, about half an hour had passed, the locals were still waving around up there. It seemed strange to us that they greeted us so friendly and extended but didn't wanna come down from their hill.

Well, when we went ashore and met the mayor with the priest and the team from SY Tandemeer, they explained that this greeting had absolutely nothing to do with us. This happened up there every Sunday when the people celebrate their voodoo prayers. With a grin I turned to Joanna, but she just gave me a threatening look and whispered: “Don't say a word now. Not a single word - you hear me?” Voodoo is apparently very widespread in Haiti and there are many followers of these rituals.

So it was not a special greeting for us, at least not the waving on the hill. We were nevertheless very hospitably received and warmly welcomed in the community on the village market place. But more about all this in the next post.