Return to Luperon

After a three year hiatus, I’m back in Luperon, Dominican Republic (and back on the all-chicken diet). Remarkably the sea growth, which spreads like kudzu on steroids, hasn’t strangled our boat. Preventing this was no small feat for el Capitan who was busy running a world class bar while I was frolicking in the Virgin Islands & New Mexico.
Luperon has calm down considerably. Both the beach resort and the marina closed in my absence. That hit the local economy hard. Most folks seem in good spirits although not all is well. A local citizen drowned in the harbor the day I arrived. He was trying to eek out a living gathering tree oysters from the mangroves. That involved wading in waist deep water at low tide with a burlap sack and plucking them off of the branches while swatting at the ferocious swarms of mosquitoes. Unfortunately he was also an epileptic. He evidently had a seizure and drowned in three feet of water. 

My favorite goat, who would spend his afternoons under the gazebo in the town square, is also missing. It’s my fear he’s been consumed. There’s been a rumor circulating that a lot of the goat butchered lately isn’t goat. It’s cat. Folks are now insisting to see the head before buying any. On the other hand, cat is the local folk remedy for asthma. I hear respiratory attacks are way down.
Our boating adventures however continue unchanged. It was time to clean the bottom of the dinghy before the growth underneath it was declared a marine sanctuary. We motored over to the beach, lifted off the outboard, flipped the dinghy over and started scrapping. An hour later it was done. Once back and after a manly nap, I walked on deck and noticed the dinghy was ½ filled with water. We have a winch which would’ve hoisted it, allowing us to spot the leak, but it was too windy to use. So we went into town and hit the bars while I returned to the dock every hour or so to bail it out. Later that evening, we hoisted it on our dive platform so it wouldn’t sink. 
The next morning with light winds & heavy hangovers, we prepared to fire up the generator to start the winch. Nothing happened. No power. Now we had a leaky dinghy and a dead generator.
El Capitan got in the hold and started tracing wires while I pretended to be busy. An hour later he fixed a loose connection. We fired up the generator & hoisted the dinghy. Water poured out of two screw holes in the stern, holes that he had previously sealed and that I had expertly removed the day before with my scraper. We pulled a tube of waterproof sealant out of the bilge but noticed it took two days to cure. So we jammed some plumbing putty into the holes and bailed a lot the next couple of days. 
After we repaired it, we decided to let it cure on land while we hauled our often unreliable but critically important 15 hp spare outboard over to the mechanic in Puerto Plata in preparation for our departure back to the States. After winching the overweight bastard into our leaky dinghy, we managed to wrestle it into the trunk of a borrowed car where it was pronounced DOA shortly after arriving at the shop. I was never fond of it and much prefer our little 5 hp motor so there were no tears shed. However if our main engine conks out on the return voyage, the 15 hp would’ve gotten us to port. Now we’re fucked. If you happen to see a 35 foot trawler drift by in the coming months, at least light a candle in your window.
Boating’s also not for everyone. Off of our stern sits a beautiful 30 foot ketch. A guy who’s lifelong dream was to spend his retirement sailing the world bought it off of Craigslist. He flew down last month and spent his first two weeks on her sitting in the stern drinking beer. Someone finally asked when he was going to leave port and discovered the guy had never sailed before. He was trying to get his courage up. An experienced sailor suggested they take it out on a shakedown cruise. They were ten miles down the coastline in normal seas when the owner jumped ship and took a bus back to town. Before departing he vowed never to set foot on another boat again. The last anyone heard was he was relocating to Nevada.

However, not all is dark.. Los Norman, the Caribbean’s favorite softball team, now leads the annual municipal tournament with 4 wins and no losses. They have brand new uniforms which is probably a factor. On top of that, the World Baseball Classic, which is played every three to four years and involves class acts like Cuba, Japan, the USA and, believe it or not, Holland, just ended. The Dominican Republic took top honors beating Puerto Rico in the finals while remaining undefeated. We watched it last night at a discotec bar in Sosua where we’re searching for yet more elusive boat parts. The crowd went wild at the end of the game with girls dancing on the tables and removing their tops. Come to think of it, they do that every night. Sosua is the sex trade capital of the Caribbean.
The dinghy is now sitting under a shade tree back in Luperon resealed & drying while we visit marine stores and monitor the dancing girls. Hopefully it won’t rain, both for our sake and the ladies. Experience has taught us that when we return back to our floating palace we’ll discover something else in need of repair, which is fine. That’s what boating is all about.