SEA BEAR

A False start
I left on Monday but didn’t get very far. Firstly there was a hold up at the lifting bridge. a big motor boat went through oh so slowly, must have taken him 15 mins or so. The bridge keeper was getting really irate with him over the vhf, telling him he was causing a holdup and that he must clear the channel now,
quite amusing, the keeper obviously cared nothing  no deference shown for the megarich  man in his superyacht, who I bet not often gets talked to like that, though probably it was a lackey captain at the controls.
Anyway I got through eventually but then along came the first of many squalls, you cant see them coming as they come over the mountain so little warning, high winds and torrential rain, and visibility down to about nothing. After about the third or fourth in about an hour I decided to go back I was drenched and fed up with it. Two more on way back including one just as was about the drop the anchor. It was thoroughly unpleasant. Anyway I made right decision because rest of day, eve and night was very cloudy and dark, not nice at all.
Succesful passage
I left at two pm the next day, Tuesday. Bit of a repeat performance, really nasty squall about half an hour after I’d left with really really strong wind. Martha couldn’t cope and the boat rounded up and made a dash for the shore so I fought that and  steered offshore. With the full yankee out I had way too much sail up for 30 knots of wind I then struggled to roll up the yankee, lost a sheet to the wind, normally the stopper knot stops it pulling through the blocks but not this time. Anyway I got the sail furled and just lay ahull for a while until the squall passed, then I could sort it all out. Fortunately just the one squall this time thereafter the weather looked fine. It was a bit windy mind 25 knots or so but downwind sailing so not splashy or sprayey, just a bit rolly with a sizeable swell. After sunset I had a nice half moon until it set about 4am. Not too much chance to cat nap as there were quite a few boats about. When it got light at 06.30 we had done 75 miles and I could see the island, perfect timing. Switching on the gps to double check and were 6 miles from our waypoint at end of Virgin Gorda and bang on target, pleasing that. Past Pajaros Point we just had to thread a way past the reefs and Richard Branson’s private island (Necker Island) and past Pull or be Dammed Point to follow the channel get into Gorda or North Sound. So here I am in BVI.

North Sound , Virgin Gorda

I cleared in at Gun Creek, North Sound, a quick and painless process and then moved over to anchor off Prickly Pear island on the over side of the sound.

Prickly Pear Island

A lovely spot this, there is a little beach restaraunt on the island but it was closed for the eve, dashing my hopes of some nice food. Thought I would go there for lunch the next day but in the meantime a cruise ship had arrived and anchored off and they had taken over the place, so hopes dashed again. I moved over to Leverick bay and lunched here, there was also a small shop so I could get some more fresh provisions.

Leverick bay Hospital

Des Res, Leverick Bay

Next morning I took a walk, hoping to get up to the top of Virgin Gorda peak, I got close but a number of tracks I tried turned out to be dead ends so in the end contented myself with a stunning viewpoint overlooking the whole of the North Sound.
On to St Thomas, the main town of Virgin Gorda main requirement an ATM to top up funds but it was near to the Baths, a spectacular mooring with white sand beaches and huge granite boulders. Very popular so apparently all the moorings get taken by mid morning. It was beautiful calm evening but things changed in the night, a brisk NE arrived and with it a big swell, caused a few boats to drag and they had to move in the middle of the night.
Next day was no day for the Baths so I had a boisterous sail across to Tortola and found shelter in Fat Hogs Bay, it was till blowing 25 knots but flat water in the shelter behind the reef. Ashore in the eve I dined in a local eatery with a barbecue set up outside, jerk chicken, delicious.
The wind had departed in the morning so I returned to the Baths, swell still running crashing into the boulders so no chance to go ashore but I took a mooring and had lunch before returning to Fat Hogs Bay.

The Baths

Next stop was Road Town the Capital but I didn’t stay long, about an hour, a soulless place I found it, all new concrete buildings and a busy road. Instead a nice sail across the Drake Passage past Pelican Island and the Indians took me to the Bight on Norman Island,. A proper old pirate haunt this and reputably the setting for the book, Treasure Island. Ashore I dined in the Pirates Bight restaurant, which is the only thing on the island on barbecued ribs. A walk ashore in the morning took me to the highest point of the island with lovely views.

The Bight Norman Island

On then to Sopers hole and passing through Thatch Island Cut across to the island of Joss Van Dyke. It was as I’d feared a bit choppy in the bay here, too much South in the wind so I returned to Sopers Hole. Here I ran into Richard and Eilish again in their lovely homebuilt steel gaff cutter “Granuaile”. I first meet them in Northern Spain.
I decided it was time to leave the BVI, it is undoubtedly a beautiful place and would be a perfect cruising ground if only it weren’t such a perfect cruising ground and hence so crowded out with charter boats. Its expensive too, the tourist and charter boats seem to push up the prices and its the most expensive place I have been in the Caribbean so far.

Spent my last day in BVI at Sopers Hole, checking over the boat and getting some supplies. Someone once said that cruising is about fixing your boat in exotic locations and there is truth in this. I overhauled the bilge pump as I discovered it to be leaking at the flange and dripping salt water over the engine, not good. A new diaphragm dug out of the boson’s stores was fitted to cure this.
I slipped the mooring early on the 25th and clear of the harbour since it was quite windy hoisted the staysail only to run down the Narrows between Tortola and St Johns, part of the American Virgins. I could then turn towards the Windward Passage, so with the wind more on the beam up went the reefed mainsail and I passed through the Durloe Cays between Rata Cay and Henley Cay. Passing in between Cruz bay and Steven Cay I carefully avoided Skipper Jacob Rock, a more wicked looking rock I have rarely seen, sharp and pointed and I wondered on the unfortunate skipper who it was named after. The last obstacle in threading my way through the islands was the Dog rocks and then I could set a course to pass south of the Isla de Vieques, one of the so called Spanish Virgin Islands. I reached here late afternoon, I am sure they would be a delight to visit but they belong to Puerto Rica and you need an American Visa, which I don’t have.
Our first night at sea sunset at 6.30 and dark shortly after but around nine thirty a nice 3/4 moon arose to shine us on our way and off to the NW I could see a light high on Puerto Rica. Coasting westwards about 8 miles offshore shore lights could be seen clearly but it was a quiet night, no ships at all in sight or on the AIS. The Puerto Rican’s do however seem to use AIS extensively as a navigation aid for there were lots of AIS targets showing as leading lights and beacons.
Morning came with little change although the wind had dropped some and the swell which cause that troublesome rolling, eased a little. Later I rigged the genoa pole with uphaul, downhaul and two guys so I could pole out the yankee, its not a job i relish singlehanded but with a light wind and from directly aft, necessary to maintain some progress. All day spent passing Puerto Rica and in the late afternoon a pod of dolphins came to visit, playing around the boat and staying with me a long time, very nice.
And so into the second night for which I put a precautionary reef in the main and rolled away the yankee as the wind had gone around a little. Midnight saw me past Cabo Rojo and the red light of the buoy which marks the SW corner of Puerto Rica so I was starting to cross the Mona Passage and altered course a little towards the Dominican Republic. Another quiet night so plenty of cat naps, some curled up in a corner of the cockpit behind the spray hood and some stretched out below with the alarm religiously set.
Not long after dawn after I had reset the poled out yankee I could just make out the low shape of Mona Island to the NW and not long after a big black dolphin came to pay a visit. So past another day, towards eve I saw 3 ships in fairly close succession so I must be crossing the shipping lane for the Mona passage. With sunset the wind seemed to shift more abeam so I de-rigged the yankee pole, wishing I had done it an hour before while there was more light. The chart showed a nasty area of shoal and reefs extending a way south from the Isla Saona at the SE tip of Dominican Republic so I made sure I kept well off shore here though I could see the loom of the lights. Later I was past these hazards and could alter course towards Boca Chica.
Came the dawn and with the by now very light wind more abeam I could hoist the staysail so all plain sail set. Shortly before midday I was just about becalmed and concerned that I may not make port before dark resorted to the engine, fortunately after about an hour the wind returned.

Approach to Marina Zar Par

I handed the sails as I approached the buoyed channel which led through the reef and behind the small island and into the Marina Zar Par. I was soon tied up alongside to be greeted by a welcoming committee of the marina manager, the coast guard and M2, the drug enforcement agency. After a cursory search of the boat all was OK, it being Sunday Immigration can wait until the morning.
It had been a fairly slow passage of 300 miles due to light winds but a fairly stress free one so I was happy to settle for that.

Dark clouds over Zar Par

If you wanted one word to describe the Dominican Republic it would be loud!. Music is played everywhere at full volume, even little general shops have a speaker the size of a fridge balanced on the counter cranked up to full volume. Its a lively place to be sure here, a beach to one side of the marina with lots of wooden shacks In town the other way its a crazy place, music , teaching salsa dancing in the courtyard of a hairdressing saloon, a couple dancing on the shop floor of an off-licence, bars with people outside filling the pavement.
Music here is more latin american – sort of salsa music and the buildings too very different from the rest of the Caribbean islands .

Dominican art

I went into Santa Domingo by bus. It is a very big bustling city and felt a little overwhelming specially when I got of the bus and had no clue whereabouts in the city I was. I got my bearings after a bit and wandered around the old colonial district. Its like another place altogether, very quiet and peaceful tidy and clean, some lovely buildings and streets, found the statue to Christopher Columbus. The rest of the city is mad by contrast, traffic with no rules street sellers street stalls noisy and busy and chaotic.

Had some lovely pineapple – the fruit and veg here is about the best I have seen in the Caribbean and the cheapest.
I was ready to leave Boac Chica but the weather forecast was for very strong winds 35 -40 knots at the next cape and at Capo Beata around which I have to pass so stayed.
I spent an eve sitting on a crate on the pavement outside a store drinking cheap rose wine from an ice filled plastic cup with the manager from the marina. He asked me if I wanted to join him and visit his home, said he would meet me outside the office at 6 but if I wasn’t there he understand that I didn’t want to go. Well of course I wanted to go and he was pleased when I turned up and he took me on the back of his little motorbike to his house and then through some streets and alley to the store where he bought the wine and we sat and talked. His house was down some mud yard and the back yard was all earth and rocks with some assorted bits and pieces around and the living space tiny. I am sure it would horrify most westerners how they live. He said that they live like rabbits, the street are pretty crowded, most life is lived outside it seems, cheek by jowl as it were. He seem to be at work from 8 till 6 and only gets 1 day off a week, it must be a pretty tough life. Later he ran me back on his bike, getting dark, no lights, no crash hats of course and in flip flops. The roads are potholed and with open drains across them and no traffic rules it seems.
Felt a bit privileged to get some insight into life here.
Eventually the winds eased a little and after receiving my dispatchio I made an overnight passage to Salinas.

leaving Boca Chica through the reefs

A lovely bay where they have extensive salt pans to get sea salt.

salt pans

Shortly after I arrived had 30 knots of wind and suffered a dragging anchor, the holding wasn’t so good so had an anxious and unpleasant time for a while. After a day or so I moved just around the corner as it were to Palmars de Ocoa, just another lovely beach with a little fishing town backed by mountains.

Palmar de Ocoa

On then across the bay to Santa Cruz de Barahona, quite a busy town, a sheltered anchorage but not so scenic. I had thought I might stay here, perhaps visit the mountains and a big lake inland where they have crocodiles but the only place to leave a dinghy seemed to be a rough concrete wharf and there was a bad surge so decided to move on. Perhaps I was getting fed up of DR, to go from port to port you need a dispathcio from the coast guard and although official they should be free once you have paid your entrance fee for the boat, the officials ask for 20$, a bribe basically. Here they made a bit of a fuss but I just stonewalled them, said I had no dollars and eventually although they were not happy they gave me a dispatchio and exit stamped my passport.
I left at first light and sailed down the coast for about 40 miles to Capo Beata, I judged that if I rounded the cape it would be dark so I gybed and took the passage Canal de Beata between the Ilas Beata and the mainland. As soon as I gybed the boat accelerated, there must be quite a current running through here and the swell which had been troubling me all day disappeared and the depth dropped to around 4.5 to 5 metres. It was dark before I passed Cabo Falso so I could not stop at the Bay of Eagles, which would have been my last anchorage in DR, instead I carried on another 150 miles past the coast of Haiti towards Il a’ Vache.

During my second night at sea I estimated that I would arrive at Il a’ Vache whilst it was still dark so I reduced sail to slow down but at 4am after I had spotted the light on Il a’ Vache still some 8 miles away I hove to for a while so I would not arrive before the dawn.
Later turning north to run up between the island and the mainland I caught sight of the first of many of the traditional sailing fishing boats of the area and a bit later the first of the dugout canoes that they still use.

Turning in to Baie Feret I had a welcoming committee of boat boys in dugout canoes all offering their services for this and that, a bit distracting when all you want is to find a spot to anchor. Safely anchored and the boat snugged down, sail covers on I pursued then to leave me alone for a bit because I need to sleep a bit.
Here already at anchor where the young Norwegians in their boat and Rene (French) and Rod (SA) who had left Boca Chica a few days before me. Hearing their tales made me glad that I had waited for the strong winds to pass. The Norwegians had suffered a knock down with their mast in the water in big rough seas, smashing their autopilot and solar panel, and bending the pushpit and some stanchions whilst the French boat had suffered damage to a sail, their gooseneck fitting and had lost a dinghy.

Il a’ Vache is a beautiful place, around the shores of the bay is a simple village Cai Coch, no electricity (although now they do have a few solar powered lights), no running water. There are no roads, no cars, some little motorbikes only. The people walk mostly sometimes ride horses to get about and live by plot farming and fishing from wooden sailing boats or dugout canoes.


I walked over to the market at the village of Madame Bertram, pigs, goats, chickens, fish, vegetables, soap, rice all for sale spread out in chaotic fashion on rickety stalls amongst the mud and the garbage with sailing boats that have bought in the goods in the bay and women arriving with a basket of sweet potatoes or coconuts or breadfruit balanced on their heads to sell. No pictures I am afraid as they get a little touchy about having pictures taken but it’s a scene that could have been hundreds of years ago.

After a few more days at Ile a’ Vache it was time to move on once more, so after a quick trip ashore to buy bread I made ready to sail and finally bid goodbye to Marc and Jeff the boys who had been my almost constant companions these past few days.
Out of the bay I hoisted sail and ran out down the wide channel between the mainland and the island. Rounding Point l’ Abacou I could set my course to run parallel to the coast and with 2 reefs in the main and staysail set progress with the strongish winds quite rapid and the swell not too troubling. There certainly are some big mountains in Haiti so the scenery was quite spectacular. The wind was not too last though and shortly after sunset it was dropping so contrary to my usual practise I had no reefs in this night instead had all plain sail set and progress was slow. At least I had a full bright moon. I could alter course more northwards now for Cuba, aiming to clear the extensive shoals that extend westwards from Cap Tiburn. A sudden wind increase at 3 in the morning shook me from my torpor and I put the first reef in the main followed shortly by the 2nd. Of course no sooner than the 2nd reef went in the wind dropped again, ah well.
Dawn revealed Navassa Island well off to port. It remained in sight for hours as I drifted and sailed in very light winds and near calms all morning. Eventually however we got a little wind and so it continued throughout our 2nd night with a little short lived rain squall to liven things up.
Dawn revealed just empty seas all around just some cloud to the north. Mid morning and the mountains of Cuba could be seen but as the day wore on the wind dropped again. An assessment of the situation mid afternoon was that at present speed (about 1.5- 2 knots) I would not arrive
before dark and not fancying entering a strange port at night it was on with the engine. So it was that I entered the channel leading to Santiago de Cuba and anchored off the marina at Punta Gorda just before sunset.

Castillo del Morro, approach to Santiago

In the morning I dinghied to the dock to pick up the doctor and took her back to the boat. She asked me a few questions and took my temperature and pronounced me free from any “lergies” . They take their health seriously and want to keep Cuba healthy. Then I visited the coast guard and answered their questions, no forms to fill in, all on computer these days. They then inspected the boat, content with letting their sniffer dog , a cute little docile spaniel, have a good snuffle around. Then clearance and visa issued and I was in Cuba.
First thing was to get some money. I was offered a lift into Santiago, about 10 miles by a German who had a car. This was too good an opportunity to miss so I hurriedly grabbed a few things from the boat and into Santiago I went. Kurt dropped me at the Hotel de Santiago. Here I got some convertable pesos and then had a wander around, getting a bit lost but not too badly. It is a big sprawling city but first impression very clean, none of the litter and garbage strewn about that you see in Domincan Republic. Old american cars a plenty, MZ motorbikes which brought back memories of my time as a motorcycle mechanic, horse drawn carts, big trucks which acted as buses. I bought a few veg at a farmers market and eventually took a taxi back.

Car & street Santiago

Plaza Revolution

I spent a few days anchored at Punta Gorda, took a ferry into Santiago a few times to wander around ,see the sights and listen to the music. i also cycled out to Castilla del Morro and called in at a little beach for a swim. I also went for a walk to a prominant limestone bluff inland by tiny paths through the bush and on top buzzards soaring just feet above my head. The Norwegians lads, Olaf and Knut had arrived too, but they are off eastwards and northwards. I am still westward bound. I was ready to leave but strong northerly winds were forecast for Cabo Cruz so I delayed a day or two before leaving. Next stop down the coast was Chivorico, a tight entry between the reefs into a lovely little lagoon. On again to Marea del Portillo and easier entry into a big lagoon this. My first eve there and the 30+ knot northerly arrived as dark fell, the anchor dragged so I put out the Bruce as a second anchor. In the midst of this the Guarda arrived in a little rowing fishing boat, they were having quite a struggle in the wind and I was surprised to see them on on a night like this. Ashore was a little fishing village, this was rural untouched Cuba, lovely. I got some peppers tomatoes and cucumbers from a plot farmer,he wanted some fishhooks so I gave him some.
A short hop took me to Ensenada Tiburcio, I didn’t like this entry, it started off easily enough well marked with bouys but thereafter it was unmarked between a shoaling shore and unmarked reefs.
The anchorage at Cabo Cruz is reached around a long breaking reef but at least well marked and is some way from the town and the lighthouse.
Ashore I met with a lovely Dutch couple of “Bandos”. We had seen each others boats in various place but never meet before.
The next stretch was the Gulf of Guacanayabo and Gulf of Anna Maria and the Jardines de la Reina. This is a labyrinth of hundreds of uninhabited cays, reefs and shoals. There are just a few fishermen but otherwise I would be on my own, few cruisers come this way, it is wilderness unspoilt. The pilot guide recommends a good bow watch to look out for shoals and coral, being on my own meant I would have to do without, this led to a degree of apprehension about this stage.
To the next anchorage was too far to make in daylight so I left just before dark aiming to arrive at the entrance to the Canal de Cabenza del Este, which leads into the inshore passage behind the reefs by daylight. Here I would enter into the gulf of Guacanayabo.
It turned out to be a wild night, the wind got up and barely dropped below 30 knots all night, I was down to the third reef in the main and a reef in the staysail and of course I arrived at my waypoint for the canal whist still dark so decided to hove to for a while till dawn. With the wind out of the NE it was quite a battle to head NE through the canal, bashing into a nasty short chop and finally to Cayo Granada to drop the hook.
The following days I transited the Canal de Rancho Vieja and Canal del Pingue leading into the gulf of Anna Maria. The word canal gives the wrong impression, there are no banks as such you are sailing through what looks like open waters with the occasional reef and cay visible and some marker posts to guide you, but stray of track and you will be aground on the shoals! A series of anchorages at Cayo Chocolate, Cayo Manual Gomez, Cayo Ingles, where I passed to the outside again then Cayo Breton , Cayo Macho de Afuera and finally arriving at Casilda. It had been a very intense experience, the peace, the silence were outstanding at times but it had been hard work, concentration needed at all times.

music in the plaza

Cabo Cruz

Casilda is the nearest port to the town of Trinidad, this is a lovely historic city, one of the oldest in the New World founded in 1514 and is one of UNESCO’s World Heritage sites. Well worth a visit and I spent a couple of days wandering around its cobbled streets.

streets of Trinidad

On then to Cienfeugos about 35 miles down the coast. Here there is a fairly narrow entrance to a big enclosed bay and you anchor off the marina. A walk down the Malecon takes you into the busy city. There are some fine old colonial buildings and a nice plaza and I soon discovered my favorite bar where you could sit outside in the shade under a colonnade, drink beer and watch the world go by.

Ceinfuegos

One day I took the bike and headed out into the country past vast orchards of mangos then just wild country side. After about 16 miles I ended up at Playa Blanca, a nice little beach so swam before heading back. Saw a real vaquero, complete with leather chaps and lariat as well as lots of horse drawn traps and of course old american cars.


All too soon my time was up , my Cuban visa had run out so although I could have renewed it, time to leave and move on. next stop the Cayman Islands

Of Caves and Dragons
I left Cienfeugos a little later in the day than I hoped, put it down to bureaucracy, settling my anchorage bill with the marina and then getting a dispatchio from the authorities. They visit your boat before issuing you that and exit stamps on your passport for a quick search, probably to check you have no Cubans aboard. So it was about 2.30 before I weighed anchor by which time the wind had switched to the south so a head wind for leaving, fortunately not too strong. Outside the bay progress was slow, I couldn’t lay the course I wanted, away from the coast took me SSW and I certainly didnt want any westing in my course, the other had me gradually closing the coast which trends NW-SE here. The other big danger to avoid was the Banco de Jagua lying some 25 miles offshore, unmarked with dangerous seas and numerous wrecks. The wind shifted to a more easterly direction after sunset but then fell in strength till we had barely a light breeze. Eventually though I was clear of all dangers, just empty seas between me and the Caymans.
In the early hours we had some wind back but by midday almost a flat calm. I even resorted to motoring for a while. That night was weird there was lots of phosphorecence and the sea so flat and glassy that the stars were reflected in it. I was dozing below when the wind returned, at last we could make progress. I spotted the island, a low smudge on the horizon just before noon and later in the afternoon picked up a mooring at Scott’s Anchorage, Cayman Brac.
The authorities came to meet me on the dock and were going to come out to the boat to complete formalities but looking at the size of my dinghy decided to do it ashore. I just had to ferry the mosquito control officer out to spray the inside of the boat.
Ashore later I had Cayman Island style shrimp for dinner and a few beers. I was in a bit of culture shock, there was a supermarket with everything you could wish for for sale, after months of very basic stores and not being able to get things this was wonderful and of course English was the language, no more struggling to get by in spanish or french as I had for months.
Both the islands are small, about 9 mille long by 2 wide, about 1,500 people live on Cayman Brac whilst on Little Cayman the resident population is about 150, the people are very friendly.
Exploring Cayman Brac I was offered a lift and was taken along the the Bat cave, fascinating but saw no bats. Walking back I visited Rebecca’s cave then hiked across the salt pond trail back to the North side of the island, hard going this across tortured sharp eroded limestone, in flip flops too.

Track across Cayman Brac

Next day I sailed across to Little Cayman, I though to take a mooring in Spot Bay but discovered the dock there, old and concrete too high to land on from a dinghy. I moved on around to Owens Sound, entered through a very narrow gap in the reef with breaking waves either side, scary and once inside calm but very shallow, around 2 metres with shoal patches. Pleased to be in and secured to a stout mooring bouy.
Little Cayman is famous for its iguanas, a number live around and under the old museum so that was my first stop . What wonderful beasts they are iguanas everywhere I looked, stopping at a respectful distance one big one about 4 ft long eyed me up and then came across, stopping about 2 ft short of me.

I rode my bike around the island, about 20 miles but it felt longer, traffic count 2 cars 4 iguanas. Stopping of at Sandy point the SE tip was a beautiful white sandy beach with azure sea protected by a fringing reef. Had the place to myself had a lovely swim.

Sandy Point Little Cayman

Sunset Owen’s Sound

It blew hard in the early morning with torrential rain, had a bit of a fright when I thought the mooring might be dragging so found myself stark naked in the rain and dark putting out the anchor, washed the salt off I suppose. Turned out it was just the long scope on the moooring.
Leaving through the reef was worrying with a swell running in from the south after the blow, just line up the range markers astern, aim for the middle of the small gap between marker post and buoy and then for that gap in the breakers outside, safely out phew!
Back on Cayman Brac I cycled and walked up the coast to the Brac, a big limestone cliff, home of many caves and walked up the lighthouse steps to Peter’s cave, used as a hurricane shelter by the locals.

Peter’s Cave

The other way I hiked part of the trail through the parrot reserve, didn’t see any parrots though.
I could have stayed longer on these delightful peaceful islands but if I wanted to visit Jamaica before heading out of the hurricane zone. It was time to move on.

Getting my clearance to leave and talking with the immigration officer on Cayman Brac. He mentioned the Cubans that had arrived a few days ago, they have no visas so will get deported back to Cuba. Apparently 2 or 3 boats arrive in the Caymans a month, crossing over a 100 miles of open sea in what a basically just lash ups, Some he said were so bad you could see the water bubbling in through the planks. He pointed out the latest, drawn up on the rocks near the dock and said that was one of the better ones. So there are still Cubans desperate enough to leave Cuba to risk all in barely seaworthy boats.