We left Puerto Bahia by about 3 pm on February 4th. As we were leaving Samaná – and sorry it took so long to tell you about this, but…

We. Saw. Whales.

We spotted the blow spouts in the distance, then we saw a frenzy of slapping tails. I don’t know the technical terms, so I’m not sure if they were head-slapping or breaching. It was very spectacular, but unfortunately my marine life photography skills are worse than my bird photography skills, so we didn’t get any good pictures.

We met a great couple in Turks & Caicos. Sonia and Alex made no secret of the fact that seeing whales was high on their life’s to-do list. I was thinking of them while scrambling with the camera and keeping an eye on the whales, so this picture’s for them.

We had a nice sail along the Domincan coast that night. I started getting seasick again sometime after midnight. I don’t know what’s wrong with me all of a sudden with this seasickness…it really sucks!

We sprung away from the coast by 7:30 am local time as advised by the experts (to avoid the daily “shockwave” of squalls off Cabo Engaño). Cabo Engaño translates to “Cape Deceit” evidently because it’s easy to get fooled and end up in trouble. There are several shipwrecks shown there on the chart. I guess we could’ve timed our departure from the coast a little earlier, because we had to do some evasive maneuvers to avoid one of the squalls. We had no problems, though.

It was a nice, sunny sail that day. The seas were a bit “lumpy” as Roger would say, and I was sick as a dog. Poor Phill, he might as well have been single-handing.

The Mona passage started to earn its reputation for us that night, though. Our nice sail turned into a scary sail, so we lowered the main and sailed with the jib alone. It was dark, rough, and messy.

We were circled several times by a plane of some sort – we assumed it was the US Coast Guard as we were now in American waters. We were just entering the lee of Desechio Island, and a very bright spotlight appeared behind us, approaching fast! We weren’t worried that it was pirates (what with the circling plane and all), so we turn on the deck lights. The approaching boat is within twenty feet of our port side stern, and a guy starts shouting at us: “Sailing vessel to our starboard! This is the United States Coast Guard!”. Phill and I are like “Don’t these guys have a radio???“, then Phill shouts back “We’re sailing vessel ‘Water Music’!”. They ask us “What flag is your vessel!?”; The maple leaf was flying loud and proud on our stern, and brightly illumincated in their giant spotlight, but I guess they have to ask. “Canadian!” Phill says. “Have you ever been boarded by the Coast Guard!?!”. “Yes, in Savannah, Georgia!” responds Phill.

Then they tell us they’re going to board us, and where’s the easiest place to climb on. Really? You’re going to board us??? In this mess??? Ugh. It was really rough – the boat was moving a lot – even in the lee of Desechio. I go below to get our paperwork (concentrating hard on not barfing), while Phill starts to dismantle our cockpit cocoon of zippered panels so the coast guard guys could get in the boat. The Autohelm was working, thank goodness, so we could do these tasks simultaneously.

So our cockpit cocoon is dismantled and salt spray is now getting all over everything. The Coast Guard boat begins to sidle up beside us, and for reasons unknown to us, they changed their mind and said “Have a good night. You’re free to go.”.

Phill reinstates our cocoon, I put the paperwork back, and we carry on. By now we’re about three hours away from Mayaguez.

The trip became noticeably less miserable as the seas calmed as we approached the coast.

Phill piloted us safely into Mayaguez Bay, where it was blissfully calm. We did the bare-minimum-boat-tidy, then fell instantly asleep. Well, Phill fell instantly asleep. I had to read a page or two of my book, then I was snoring. I woke up with it on my chest, suggesting I didn’t move for several hours.

The Mona Passage can be one of the thorniest parts of the thorny path to windward, but we followed the advice in Bruce Van Sant’s Gentleman’s Guide to Passages South and had a trouble-free passage.

Minus the seasickness, it was very good for the confidence.