From what we’ve gathered, you either love Luperon or hate Luperon. There seems to be a web of stories and it’s hard to know what is true and what is false about this sacred safe harbor in the Dominican Republic. Let’s clear the air in this house of smoke and mirrors, called Luperon Bay.
To follow the channel markers or to not follow the channel markers into the harbor? That is the question or at least it would have been if Shakespeare would have been a sailor. The charts did not align with the channel markers and Bruce Van Sant, author of A Gentleman’s Guide to Passages South, advised not to follow the channel markers or the charts. Cool, so what do you even do, Bruce? We made the decision to follow the channel markers and I stood at the bow for visual aid navigation which is challenging at 8am when you don’t have a high sun. We made it into the harbor, no problem, therefore our recommendation is to follow the channel markers.
Once entering the harbor, we were greeted by Papo in a skiff that led us to an available mooring ball which was three American dollars per day. He will also sell you a DR courtesy flag for $10, if you don’t have one, which we didn’t. Word on the water is that moorings in Luperon can be unreliable. Papo tied us onto our mooring, using our line. We backed down on the mooring and felt secure; we thought, “Sweet, we are on a good mooring ball.” What we didn’t do was check to see what our line was tied to, which we later learned is a shackle; not an eye, like we’ve been used to. As a result of our oversight, the evening of our third night, that line we didn’t check completely severed and we were adrift.
How did we know we were adrift? I woke up all of the sudden, around midnight, woke up Blake and said, “Something doesn’t feel right.” I poked my head out of the cockpit and saw that we were about four feet from drifting into a neighboring boat. I shouted, “We’re loose!!!” to Blake, darted to the helm, turned on the engine, and put it in gear. Blake got behind the helm as I made a mad half-naked dash to the bow with inches to spare. When we were clear of collision, I grabbed our headsets and then took the helm so we could drop anchor for the night. Upon turning on our headsets they said, “Low Battery. Goodbye,” and shut off.
Approximately 38 feet apart, our voices muffled by the sounds of howling wind, brisk chop of the water, and a 32 horse power diesel engine, we had to shout to one another. Blake and I are not “yellers,” which added another layer of tension and difficulty to the already nerve-wracking experience. Blake was repeatedly yelling, “Turn hard to port!” I was already turned hard to port and the boat was spinning the opposite direction. Panic began to set in. I felt disorganized and disoriented; completely out of control. My body and breath responded with what felt like sobbing but my inner experience didn’t match; like I was sobbing without shedding a tear. I’m not sure what to call that; maybe the beginning of a panic attack. After we finally anchored, I just sat in the cockpit to let myself settle into ease again.
The next morning we dinghied to the free dinghy dock to go to Freddy’s and bought a thimble and shackle to construct a chafe-proof mooring bridle so that we never have to experience this again.
Coming back to day one with our check-in experience; we had heard numerous rumors about officials demanding bribes so we were about to find out if this was true. I had also read about Dominican culture and the emphasis that is put on the value of cleanliness. Before coming into port, Blake and I cleaned and organized the boat and ourselves. Shortly after our arrival, Richard from the Navy boarded our boat so that we could obtain clearance to check in with Immigration.
Richard and his assistant were in plain clothes and friendly. We offered them Coca Colas, which they accepted, and Richard commented on how clean and organized our boat was. We did not get searched because he could tell we were good; his words not ours. Richard was adamant that this service was free. It was a comfortable and bribe free experience. He was quirky, kind, and extremely informative in terms of next steps and check out procedures. If you leave the harbor to go to another harbor, you must contact Richard 24 hours prior to moving, to obtain a despacho (dispatch papers). If you are leaving the Dominican Republic, you must contact Richard 24 hours prior to leaving, then check out at Immigration and the Port Authority. Once completed you meet with Richard to obtain your despacho to exit.
Once cleared by Richard we went to Immigration, Port Authority, and Agriculture in that order. In general, be prepared to have many pictures taken of your passport and yourself and go to immigration with pictures of your boat on your phone. Fees incurred:
Immigration: $80.00 USD
Port Authority: $30.00 USD
Agriculture: $10.00 (drop off “international” trash for free)
May I reiterate, no one asked for a tip or a bribe. It was not hinted; no one was holding out their hand; nothing. They were all kind and professional. We were done in less than 45 minutes.
Once cleared in, all we wanted was traditional Dominican food and we ended up walking to the far west end of town, searching for a restaurant that was actually on the opposite end of town, about a five minute walk from the dinghy dock. Out of desperation, hunger, and thirst we ended up walking into a local woman’s kitchen, which may or may not have been an actual restaurant.
At first sight, it was cluttered, messy, and had an abundance of flies. We looked at each other and conversed in a whisper whether it looked sanitary enough to eat at. While quite possibly against our better judgement, we stayed and she cleared a space on the only table in the room, turned on a fan, which cleared the flies, and began serving us food. Our first course was a vibrant green, crisp salad with freshly squeezed lime. The second course was chicken, gandules (pigeon peas) with a stewed cabbage (to die for) with a side of white rice. Our third course was freshly cut apples and mango, in addition to a lecture in Spanish about the importance of eating apples after each meal.
She seemed absolutely delighted that we were there to have a meal. Every time she asked if we liked something, which was always an emphatic, “Si, me gusta, gracias” she smiled so sweetly. The total cost of our meal came out to about 300 pesos or $6 USD. We had not learned where to convert our money yet and we had a $10 bill. They first refused saying that it was too much. With much insistence, her and her husband, finally accepted.
People can say what they want about Luperon but it’s undeniably a remarkable place to meet and connect with other cruisers; while also having easy access to provisions and services at a super affordable rate. For example, you can drop off a load of laundry with Lydia for 400 pesos ($7); pick up a SIM card with data at Claro for about 500-600 pesos ($12ish); gulp down a Bohemia or Presidente while soaking up some WiFi at Wendys or The North for about 120 pesos ($2ish). You can find anything from traditional Dominican cuisine, gourmet burgers and fries (The North), to street tacos (Tom’s Tacos). There are small grocery stores and produce stands; car and motorcycle rentals; a hardware store; used boat parts (Freddy’s); and a sewing/fabric shop (Flaco’s). Within the cruising community, they have partnered with local businesses to host a Captain’s Table with dinner and drink specials at Las Velas; open mic night; craft fairs; free yoga; poker nights; game nights; and more. If you are looking for a quiet and remote location, this is not the place for you.
Per some recommendations, Nino hooked us up with a car and off we went to the 27 Charcos de Damajagua; a total tourist attraction but so much fun! I jumped off of a 21-foot cliff into the water. To put how far I’ve come into perspective, seven years ago, in Nicaragua, I was proud of myself for jumping off, what would be equivalent to the height of a parking curb, into a river. I felt like I was in the air forever. I peeked down during the fall to make sure I was moving in the right direction then SPLASH!
When you buy your admission, they only advertise the price with the buffet included. We suggest opting out of, what we heard to be, a subpar buffet so that you can feast afterwards at a pescadería in Maimón.
The next day we invited our new Canadian buddy, Gene, to come with us to La Isabela, a small beach town west of Luperon, with a quirky Christopher Columbus archaeological site and museum documenting the 1493 expedition and colonization.
The real reason to go to La Isabela is to experience the restaurant, Dona Nina, followed by the quaint yet mesmerizing Playa Isabela.
That evening was open mic night and Blake had committed to singing a few songs. I reserve my singing for the car, the boat, and for my family. You may think, “Oh how sweet, she sings for her family,” but what you should know it always results in everyone laughing. In a nutshell, I’m no Whitney Houston, and have never done karaoke, open mic, or anything of the sorts. Blake wanted me to sing, In Spite of Ourselves (by John Prine), with him. Here I go again, stepping out of my comfort zone. I did it. I sang in front of people and no one ran out screaming; no one threw anything at me; and no one did anything but smile and clap. In case you forgot, people can be so kind.
We had decided early on that we would treat ourselves, after that 11 day passage, to land life and cozy up in the mountains. We chose the city of Jarabacoa, located in the Central Mountain Range, encompassing four major rivers: Yaque del Norte, Jimenoa, Guanajuma and Baiguate. We booked an AirBnB nestled on a lush green hillside that overlooks the mountain ridge. We chose this location to have some respite from the sounds of motorcycles, loud speakers mounted on cars blaring announcements, and honking; in addition to the proximity of waterfall hikes we had our eye on. It was perfect.
Our first waterfall hike was to Salto de Jimenoa I (on Google Maps it says Salto de Jimenoa II). We arrived in the morning and traipsed down a winding narrow trail slick with wet clay like mud and stones surrounded by dense jungle like trees. It smelled earthy with wafts of sweet aromatics. The sound of the waterfall crashing into the pool below grew louder with each step.
We arrived at the base of Salto de Jimenoa and had the pool all to ourselves. While we didn’t come dressed to swim, it didn’t stop me from stripping down to my skivvies for a dip. My intolerance of heat means that I can handle, and even welcome, cold water, but Blake, not so much. You definitely can work up some heat on the hike down and even more on the way back up.
We drove to Salto de Baiguate which requires you to pay $100 pesos to access a paved trail to the waterfall. The paved trail takes you to the top of the waterfall then you can take a moderately steep dirt trail to the shallow pool at the base of the waterfall. We tossed off our shoes and walked around the ankle deep pool. As Blake leisurely strolled over a little closer to the waterfall, half of him suddenly disappeared; he was swallowed up to his mid-thigh by the sand. The video we have is a reenactment because I dropped the camera on sandbank in shock as it was happening. He was able to high step out of it and crawl to the sandbank. The locals were laughing hysterically. I wonder if they come hang out just to watch unsuspecting tourists sink into the sand.
Per the recommendation of another blogger, Dominicana Abroad, we ate at El Taino. At first glance, it probably wouldn’t even catch your eye with its outdoor-only seating and food displayed, cafeteria style. Y’all this place was so good that we went back the next day and got the exact same thing; carne de res guisada (Dominican braised beef), rotisserie chicken, arroz con habichuelas (rice and red beans), and tostones. I honestly just wish my actual stomach was bigger so I could have tried everything but I could not risk passing up that carne de res guisada.
The mountains were exactly what we needed to reground and recenter. After a nail-biting two-hour car ride back to Luperon, we were ready to return the car and stay off the roads. Driving in the DR is a death-defying experience in itself. Motorcycles don’t abide by traffic lights or laws…though I’m not sure if traffic laws even exist. This link will take you to a reel of our driving experience in the DR.
It was still early afternoon and we heard there were some high seas so we decided to stretch our legs and hike to the local blowhole, where the higher the seas the better. You would have thought Blake rehearsed for the comedy that became Blake vs. Blowhole. I belly laugh every time I watch the reel I posted on Instagram.
Returning back to Luperon, we knew that it was about time to move on but Luperon didn’t make it easy. It’s not just tough to leave Luperon because of the relationships you develop, but obtaining the despacho came with its challenges.
We were instructed to contact Richard, with the Armada, 24 hours before leaving. We called Richard, told him when we wanted to leave and he told us to visit the Armada office at 5:00pm. We went ahead and checked out with Immigration and the Port Authority which took no time at all. Around 4:30pm, we made our way to the Armada office and waited for Richard. After completing the one page of paperwork for the despacho, Richard told us that we now have to move our boat off the mooring to the outer bay. Mind you, he informs us of this minutes before sunset, meaning if we didn’t hurry, we would have to navigate all of this in the dark.
We got our despacho and hustled back to the boat while we still had a little daylight. We spent the night in a rolly anchorage. What made it worse is that we could see the boats in the inner harbor, steady and still. I was very irritated. I mean, what an asinine last-minute requirement. The rocking made stowing the dinghy, meal prep, and dinner a little sportier than anticipated.
Many former cruisers and full time liveaboards laughed at us when we said we would only be here for a couple of weeks. We met people who arrived in Luperon with the intention of a short stay…then 20 years later here they are. They call it the “Luperon Velcro.” While the Luperon Velcro may latch onto others and never let go; it can’t hold us. You can’t sail around the world in a hurricane hole.
