Luperon, Dominican Republic cont’d…

So we left off with, we’re tired…

Once we got into the Luperon Channel the wind dropped to 3 knots – wow!

It was dark when we came in.
There were NO channel markers or buoys…ANYWHERE!
We were going by chart plotter alone (which is outdated but has served us well thus far).

We threw in the towel (again) and said screw it we are going to anchor right here.
In the mouth of the channel.

And that’s what we did.

That’s approximately the same time my imagination ran away with itself.

I have never been to DR others have said it’s dirty, poverty stricken, crime everywhere but those same folks also go there for an affordable getaway – go figure.
They just don’t leave the resort.

As we settled down – I mean as Steve settled down, my mind went on to create one ridiculous scenario after another with every little noise I heard.

Steve would have been sleeping soundly if I refrained from slapping him every 20 minutes.
“Did you hear THAT?!”

We had the AC running in our room in hopes that any further noises would be drowned out and I too may sleep.
NOPE.
I hear everything. It’s a blessing and a curse.

At around 1:30am I went to check on the anchor and see if we were dragging.

The salon of the boat smelled like someone had been bbq’g – INSIDE!

What the…

I open the door to step outside and there’s a thick haze of smoke hanging on the water.
At 1:30am.
So my superior powers of deduction said – this ain’t no BBQ.
I come from the world of campfires where the smell of smoke is a great thing eliciting memories of camping and marshmallows and even fall leaf burns.

None of these START at 1am.
We came in at 11pm so… Here goes my imagination again!

Turns out the boat was in some underwater hole and the rudder was rubbing against the wall beneath us.
We figured this out because when we came in we were in 6ft of water now, all of a sudden we were in 16ft!

FYI there are no 10ft tide shifts in the Caribbean.
In Newfoundland – yes.
Not here.

So I got Steve up…again.

Picture this:
The boats all lit up.
The bay we’re in is pitch black and smoky.
The water is coffee double double colour.
Can’t see down.
Steve’s at the helm.

We’re moving the boat to get out of the hole – couple feet, no biggy.

I look out and there’s a little fishing boat with a flashlight approaching.
I hear talking.
Oh great, it’s 1:30 in the morning and we have illuminated ourselves in this barren, smoky channel and now…
Yup starting to lose it.

Up roll in 2 guys in wetsuits.
They are using a beer keg as their compressor for diving.
There’s fish in the bottom of the boat.

At this point I’m thinking I’ve watched one too many horror movies in my time.

So they pull up, show us they are night fishing and ask if we need help.
THEN they tell us we’re in sand so good holding and that high tide is at 5am.
We say thanks.

I go back to bed to re-evaluate my mental stability.

Over tired.
Slept fine the rest of the night.

Woke up feeling like an ass for all that paranoia.

That smoky smell.
The garbage gets burned at night.

Ya too many horror movies 🙂