Monday 29 Apr, Dom Rep day 6: Leaving Puerto Bahia Marina, gentle sail across Samana Bay and anchor in San Lorenzo Bay where we visit Linea Cave. Frighteningly close thunder and lightening in Los Haitises National Park.

Big day today, we are moving. Not far, just across Samana Bay in the Los Haitises National Park anchorage. After breakfast we walk to the marina and customs offices for the checkout formalities. All very straight forward except that the electricity meter was not working, so we are allowed to guess our own usage. The bill ends up being $400 for 5 nights. Really not bad for such a wonderful marina and facilities. It doesn’t get much better than this to be moored in a 5-star resort and have all the amenities available to us.

By 10am we are ready to slip the lines. The marina attendants are very helpful and efficient and we are off, nice and smooth, in a couple of minutes.
There is 10-15kts of wind on our port quarter and we only have 9nm to go, so out comes genoa for a nice gentle sail across the bay.
By midday we have rounded Punta Arena and anchored in the sheltered Bahia San Lorenzo, near the pier that allows access to the Linea Cave (Cueva de la Linea) in the Haitises National Park.
This bay is quite attractive, a mixed feel of Ha Long Bay, Vietnam and Ko Pi Pi, Thailand. The special features of Haitises National Park are the mangroves, the karst landscape, and the islets. And as we are anchored in the lee of such an islet, we might just as well be anchored in Ha Long Bay. These islets are impressive: rocks 30-40m high, coming out of the sea and covered in lush vegetation. Well, the pictures we have seen of them were taken in bright sunshine, and surrounded by emerald water the islets are indeed spectacular. To our eyes (on a cloudy day like today) they come out of gray water. Pretty view nevertheless. Some scenes of Jurassic Park were recorded here in Los Haitises, and we can see why. It really is like a lost world.

There is a short dinghy trip to the pier, through big shady mangroves. We read that the mangroves in Los Haitises are the biggest in the Caribbean. As we dinghy in, several tripper boats are coming out. Just where do they bring tourists from we wonder.
But we shouldn’t have worried. When we get to the pier, it is empty. We are the only ones here now. The dock is well maintained and after we lock the dinghy we take the short walk to Linea Cave. It is named as such after an 18th century railway line that used to transport bananas and rice through this area.
As soon as we step inside the cave we realize we should have brought a torch. It sits in darkness, except from a large opening in the ceiling filling the first cavern with natural light. We walk through all the chambers and even in the dark we can see some of the pictographs scrawled across it’s numerous walls. The drawings depict human and animal forms. We giggle a bit, commenting they look like graffiti.

Once back out we hear an engine coming in. There is a small boat, coming from Samana town with a couple of tourists. While chatting to their coxswain we learn that tourists are brought from Samana and from the nearby eco lodge Paraiso Cano Honda. And our curiosity is raised with regards to this Paraiso hotel, especially at the mention of seven natural pools fed by the river, and the hike that starts right next to the hotel. What we also learn is that we’ve made the right decision going into the marina, as boats anchored in Samana Bay get robbed quite frequently while their crew is ashore.

Back at Cloudy Bay we debate for a minute what to do next: dinghy the two kilometers to Paraiso Cano Honda or move Cloudy Bay closer. And decision is to upanchor and move closer. Good call, as after few minutes it starts raining. We would’ve got soaked in the dinghy. It is absolutely chucking it, and when it comes to dropping the anchor in the new location I am not exactly eager to go out in the rain. Instead, Glen uses the anchor buttons we have in the cockpit, guessing how much chain we let out.
It turns out to be the most serious rain we’ve had in a while. Perfect for Glen to grab his squeegee and cloth and wipe the windows and topsides. A hot cup of tea was in order after that.

Our plan of going ashore to Paraiso by dinghy, through the islets and mangroves, is ruined by this rain which just doesn’t stop. One rain squall after the other. And when lightening and thunders starts also, we feel even more at a loss. A couple of lightening strikes are very close, maybe less than a mile. Not only they are deafening, but our hearts jump from our chests each time we count a lightening strike closer than two miles. They are our biggest fear.
All small gadgets get locked in the microwave (a perfect faraday cage) and we sit in the cockpit observing the direction of the clouds and listening to the rain. And to the sound of drums and music which we can hear coming from Paraiso. So maybe it’s not exactly an eco lodge respectful to the natural park it is set in…

Even under these not so bright conditions nature doesn’t cease to amaze us. Steam is raising from the valleys making the hills look like there’s something boiling between them. Frigates are flying above us then diving into the water and coming out with a fish in their beaks. Then we spot a pod of dolphins gently swimming in the bay. And it’s easy to imagine why this place made such a good movie set for Jurassic Park. It’s wild, remote and we are here all alone!
Rain squall after rain squall just keep coming, a never ending procession of them. There are brief moments when rain seems to calm down. And it is then when we hear the next rain squall coming across the water. Just when is it going to stop? Time for another hot cup of tea…

Needles to say we decided to remain here for the night. It will certainly be quiet. And hopefully we wake up to clear sky and sunshine.
By late evening the dark clouds have disappeared west, with only the occasional lightning flash showing where they are. Over us is a starlit sky, a gentle breeze and it’s very dark. All around us we can here the occasional “plop” as a fish jumps. And when we switch on a spotlight there is an instant sound of multiple splashes, then silence, as all the fish dive down.
Inside the boat we are treated to a chorus of clicking sounds below the hull. We have heard this in many places but here there are hundreds of whatever makes that noise. Each one gives a burst of 5-10 clicks and as we go to sleep you can really imagine a distant battle playing out. Each overlapping burst really sounds like distant machine gun fire! Other than this noise, the anchorage is perfectly peaceful, for sure we will sleep really well.