Where the Ocean Gives and Takes: A Cuban Passage

13 March was departure day from Hemingway Marina

Eric and I had officially reached our limit with Marina life. Between the cost of staying in a berth and the creeping feeling of being a little too “parked,” we were more than ready to get moving again. We had seen all we wanted to see in the area, so we decided to leave a couple of days ahead of Dilly Dally, who still had a few jobs to finish up. They promised they’d catch up with us in a few days. Weather permitting, of course, because the weather always like to remind sailors who is really in charge.

They helped us cast off our mooring lines, and we gently edged our way out of the marina. Once the paperwork was finally done, we headed back out into open ocean.

Dinghy Things: Getting Wild

It was only about a 12 hour sail to the next bay, where we were due to meet up with some of our Dutch friends from Guatemala. It may be the last time we see them for a while, as we will be sailing along the coast of Cuba, while they make their crossing to the Bahamas. One of the strange things about this lifestyle is how quickly people become part of your world……and then suddenly head off in a completely different direction.

We arrived at our new anchorage late that night, and Zypheros had thoughtfully left their stern lights on to help guid us in, which was, in fact, extremely helpful and much appreciated in the dark.

After a good night’s rest, we woke up feeling fresh and ready for the day. Although in the anchorage the swell was huge, and it turned out to be an incredibly rollie spot with very little protection from the weather. Naturally, the weather had also decided to join the party, so things were feeling just a touch stormy. Still, this was a minor detail. We had plans for a meal and some wine, and clearly no amount of bouncing around was going to stop us.

Since our dinghy is quicker and easier to launch, and we knew we would be staying for a couple of days while waiting for Dilly Dally to catch up. Eric went to collect Dorrit and Harry from their boat. What should have been a straightforward little shuttle mission quickly turned into live entertainment.

Just before he was about to take them back, our painter line started to give way. Before it snapped completely, Eric had to try and replace it while the dinghy was still in the water, all while being thrown around by the swell like a sock in a tumble dryer. Needless to say, for those of us watching from a safe distance, it was excellent value.

Have a look at the video and the photos, you will get a sense of just how wild that ride was, both collecting them and dropping them off.

Once Zypheros departed the bay to begin their passage to the Bahamas, we moved a little further into the bay in search of more protection from the weather. There we found SV Mana Ola, and, as sailors do best, we enjoyed a couple more meals together before continuing further south, down the coast.

By then Dilly Dally had finally departed Hemingway Marina and was passing our bay, so up came the anchor, and off we went once again.

Skinny, Hungry and Cold

As we cruised toward our next anchorage, there wasn’t a breath of wind, so sailing was out of the question and the peace-killers, otherwise known as the engines, had to be switched on.

A few hours into the journey, we spotted a tiny fishing boat in the distance nearly 10 nautical miles off the coast. At first glance it looked almost unreal, just a speck in the open ocean. But as we got closer, the reality of it hit hard.

There were two men on board, one very old the other slightly younger, perhaps his son. What was most striking was that they had no motor and no sails. They were simply rowing. Out there, that far from shore, exposed to the full force of the ocean, and the elements, just to try and catch enough fish or crayfish to trade for something they actually needed.

We pulled alongside them to see if there was any way we could help. What we found was difficult to ignore.

The younger man had no shirt on, and was visibly cold, his shoes were full of holes, and despite Cuba being warm by most standards, it was cold that day and it is always colder out on the water. They were completely exposed, vulnerable to the sea, and visibly exhausted. Both men were painfully thin, clearly undernourished, and yet still out there trying.

They had managed to catch some crayfish, which, truthfully, I did not need at all. We already had more than enough on board. But we accepted a few anyway, and in exchange gave them meat, tinned food, and shoes among other things. As luck would have it, the younger man was tall and appeared to have feet about the same size as Eric’s, so one of my husband’s favourite pairs of sneakers was handed over without a second thought.

It was one of those moments that stays with you. To witness just how hard life is for some people out here, and how much effort, danger, and dignity is wrapped up in simply trying to survive.

Some of you may wonder why we did not just leave them with the crayfish as well. The truth is, we only took a few and they were trying to give us more. But here, protein from the sea is often the one thing they do have access to. What they desperately need is something different, something filling, practical and harder to come by.

That is why, whenever we can we try not just to give what we think is useful, but to ask what is actually needed. And sometimes, what someone needs most is not charity, it is a fair exchange, a little dignity and the feeling that they have still provided something in return. This is Cuba, it’s somehow different than it is anywhere else.

Beauty all Around at the End of a Tough Night

Even in the darkest moments, there’s beauty all around us…sometimes you just must pry your eyes open (preferably with coffee) to see it.

After a quick overnight stop at an anchorage, we set off on a longer night passage, and wow, it really put us in our place. As you may remember, we are sailing this season without wind instruments, which is about as ideal as baking bread without an oven. So instead, we rely on the highly scientific method of checking which way my hair is blowing.

The day actually started off beautifully, great wind, smooth sailing and spirits high. Naturally this did not last. As soon as darkness rolled in, the sea started to grow and get confused, the wind got wild the current was pushing the wrong way, trying to send us backwards.

At one point even with engines on, we were fighting just to move forward. Adjusting our course by a mere 2° meant the difference between making progress and essentially going nowhere.

This went on all night. Eric and I rotated shifts every 3 hours as we do, slowly watching ourselves drift further and further off course. To make things extra interesting, fuel is currently a bit of a unicorn for us, we can’t get any in Cuba at the moment, so we are trying to sail as much as possible and save every drop. Running out of fuel out here is not exactly on our bucket list, especially since we plan to explore a bit longer before heading to the Dominican Republic.

After a long, exhausting night and very little sleep, I had two Teams meetings scheduled at 08:00 and 09:00 while still on passage. Well before we were due to anchore. My shift had just ended at 06:00am so going to sleep wasn’t even worth it. I would have woken up feeling like a confused zombie.

So instead, I did the only logical thing…showered, put on make up, fixed my hair, and transformed into a professional human, from the shoulder up anyway …. Ah yes, the glamorous life of a digital nomad.

And then…. we finally arrived.

Suddenly everything changed. The wild sea flattened into glass. The water turned impossibly clear. A stunning beach sat just a short dinghy ride away. Not another soul in sight  - just us and our buddy boat, tucked into what felt like our own private slice of paradise.

And just like that, the entire miserable night became worth it.

Since arriving at the anchorage of Punta Frances we have been living the dream, beach barbecues, fresh fish traded with local fisherman, and long, lazy days soaking in the beauty of this incredible place.

Moments like this are exactly why we sail. Maybe, just maybe it is possible that we quite enjoy the chaos of shore as well and the adventure of new places.