Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Crossing the Mona

Between our departure from Samana in the Dominican Republic and our arrival in Boquerón, Puerto Rico, was the long anticipated and much feared crossing of the Mona Passage.  Except for the Gulf stream crossing upon leaving Florida, it was this stretch of ocean that we had been most warned about.

The Mona Passage is the area of water between the islands of Hispaniola and Puerto Rico, connecting the Caribbean sea with the Atlantic ocean.  In its middle, the ocean floor shoal from a depth of more than 2,000 ft to less than 200 in under a mile, not shallow enough to run aground, but more than enough to trip up the long, lazy ocean swells and leave them stacked steep and treacherous for a 31 ft boat.  Additionally, the Trade Winds, stronger, steadier, and more directly out of the east here than farther north, can easily turn a 30 hour crossing into 60 or more.  The key, as always, was to wait until the weather was right.

Our weather wasn't quite right.  But, the forecasts we could find predicted it was as good as it was going to get for the next week at least.  The crew were anxious to go.  It wasn't going to be pleasant but, it wouldn't be too terribly difficult either.  We all knew by now what we were agreeing to.

We left Samana in the evening calm at 5:10 pm. Sailing on a close reach southeast across the bay, we then turned east to follow the coast and motored into a headwind through the night.  By morning, we were a mile offshore from Cabeza del Torro, the Bull's Head, the easternmost point of Hispanola.  
 
From there we left Hispaniola behind.  We first tacked northeast to head offshore and avoid the rougher seas around the Hourglass shoals.  We wanted to be well north of them before the afternoon thunderstorms started drifting across from Puerto Rico.  By nightfall we were ready to tack again, heading southeast once more on a path that we hoped would take us up under the protection of the Puerto Rican coastline for our final leg of the crossing into the port of Boquerón.


(Captain at the helm in the Mona Passage)
 
The conditions weren't the worst we'd seen, but as expected, they weren't pleasant.  We were all seasick.  Too rough for anyone but Mark to be down in the cabin for any length of time, too rough to read, too rough to cook or sleep comfortably.  We huddled in the cockpit, staring weakly out at the lumpy ocean, tired but unable to sleep, hungry but unable to eat.

Fifty hours after leaving Samana, we dropped anchor in Boquerón.  The only thing I'd managed to hold down in all that time was a peanut butter sandwich.  At rest in calm waters at last, we ate and slept and then went ashore to eat some more.

2 comments:

  1. Where's the part where you attack pirates and smuggle drugs?

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  2. Hejira is staged and waiting for at least sorta good (low) wind in Punta Cana for the Mona. Caleb wrote a wicked song for guitar about Mona. Man O man.

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