Home to Django

Antonio returned us to our hotel and said he would meet us at the bus stop so he could give us his sister's business card. He also put on his phone number. WW gave him one of our boat cars, saying as he did so, "It's always nice to have friends in places you'd like to visit again."

"I'll be your friend," said Antonio, completely genuinely, and flashed us his devastating smile.

****

The bus ride to Puerto Plata, via La Vega, was a couple of hours. We then grabbed a taxi back to Ocean World, loaded our gear on a golf cart, and returned to our little floating home at just about exactly rum punch o'clock.

We were told it had been rough while we were gone. Windy and, oddly for the time of year, rainy. One of Django's stern lines was almost frayed through from chaffing on the cement of the dock. Inside, things had actually fallen over and off shelves. Not catamaran occurences at all. But nothing devastating. WW soon had the line in order and we went over to Almost Open (now renamed Now Hiring) for a grouper sandwich.

We were hoping to leave in the morning to visit Luperon for a few days before starting harbour hopping toward Puerto Rico. The wind, thunderstorms, and pelting rain have persisted. All weather advice has been to stay put, wherever cruisers are, and not move before Sunday. The rain falls as only tropical rain can -- in impenetrable sheets -- during squalls that last no more than 10 or 15 minutes. There will be sun or, at least, no rain for half an hour or so, then in comes the next storm. Last night, WW switched on the instruments during a squall and clocked the wind at 30 knots. The seas are 10 to 14 feet on the open sea. I am looking out from the Ocean World Marina office centre at the breakers massing on the reef outside. Spectacular, yes; want to sail on, no.

On Tuesday, April 1, we took advantage of the tiny Supermercado outlet here which provides a free drive into Puerto Plata for shopping at its big store. Our driver was very charming. He lives in Sosua, about 20 miles east of the marina and speaks excellent English (as do most people associated with the marina). He talked about the economy. He said Dominicans laugh at Americans whining over their jobs. "It's very hard to work here," he said. "A lot of unemployment and we have to pay the U.S. so much money all the time." My first firsthand experience of a living breathing case for writing off Third World debt. In addition to the debt burden, the whole place is devastated every 10 to 20 years by a hurricane.

WW has been conducting a straw poll of all our drivers regarding the outcome of the May election. To a man (we've never had a woman driver), they say the incumbent Leonel will win. He has done wonders for education. The populace are still waiting for the corrupt ex-president to go to jail.

As we entered Puerto Plata, we saw a very tiny puppy waddling down the middle lane of the very busy road. Cars were avoiding it, but we didn't give it long. I asked if we couldn't help. Our driver slowed, causing others to do the same, then a chap darted out from the roadside and scooped the tiny vagrant up.

Dogs and cats are community property. Everyone likes them, everyone gives them scraps. No one owns them (apart from the more affluent who tend to have small yappy hairy dogs). They all appear to share a gene pool that rises barely above their paws. The females are all gravid, nursing, or in heat. The males are all asleep under cars. They all itch. They are all friendly. We've had a dog adopt us briefly. It just wanted company on a walk, so far as we could tell.

Cats like to hang out around restaurants where they easily recognize the come-hither sounds kitty lovers make. They seem not to mind whether it's a pat or a bit of food they get. One very happy black-and-white lady collapsed under a tree near our table after receiving a large portion of a mixed grill I couldn't begin to finish. As long as you are out of doors, the servers don't seem to mind if you share dinner with the fauna.