Viva Cuba!

After what seemed like an eternity in blue blue Bahamian waters, it was exciting to clear out of Great Inagua and make for the Windward Passage to Cuba.

Guantanamo Bay was our first taste of USvCuba history -we had a close line along the south coast making for our landfall at Santiago de Cuba and the Americans weren't too impressed with us cutting across their prohibited zone. We were told in strong words to change course til past their little patch of nostalgia -I wanted to ask why they were still there, why was Obama folding on his election promises and weren't the Cubans getting sick of them and their clinging to the past, but Lizzie played it dumb and apologised that we were wayward Kiwis and didn't realise we were too close. I insisted on holding course but a gunboat was dispatched to chase us off, and our game of chicken was very short. So hence Viva Cuba! became our slogan for the next 6 weeks.

Santiago de Cuba was our clearing in port, which we pulled in to at midnite, after sorting fishermen's flourescent fish attracting lights from navigation lights, and thankfully the Fontera were happy to have us rest the night and be boarded in the morning. Well, the first of many sometimes hilarious, sometimes wildly frustrating, sometimes perfectly simple and easy formalities. Its worth describing in a bit of detail: Every port has its own interpretation of clearing in yachts but suffice to say it generally involves about 6 officials accompanied by serious young soldiers in Castro green uniforms, a dog or two, lots of paper and stamps, and taking up 2-3 hours at any time of the day or night. Sometimes all occurs on board in a chaotic bureaucratic melee, sometimes in a spartan office at the marina. You can't leave the boat until all paperwork is in order, CUCs have been paid (Cuban Convertible Dollars, which visitors have to use, not Cuban pesos), and you have received the usual instructions “NOT to patronise Casa Familiars, buy Cuban cigars or rum from street dealers, use drugs, take Cubans aboard, or stay anywhere but a Govt Marina”. The customs man and his dog found a “suspicious substance” deep in my wet locker and we had to go and have it tested, which was a real hoot. There must have been a rat on board in the past to make that fine sawdust.

And its not all bureacracy - the quarantine doctor at Santiaga de Cuba invited us out to dinner and salsa dancing – didn't quite work out as we'd been led to believe but a fun nite all the same, and we had quality time with Cubans.

Live Music Everywhere

It is easy as a yachtista to feel imprisoned in Cuban marinas. I was twice hauled off to the Puerto Capitan's office by a security guard to have him remind me that I couldn't paddleboard outside the boundaries of the marina. In fact there is much more freedom travelling in Cuba by land. You certainly don't get woken in the middle of night to have your papers checked as a landlubber but that happened every night in every anchorage to us, and a few times we were forced to move on, as it was “dangerous for us to stay in a particular bay” The real problem was the fear of Cubans coming aboard and leaving the country by yacht. The one time a young man came aboard to trade his catch with us he was constantly watching for Fonteras coming out but we had such a great encounter, learning about his life, his family, his dreams, and swapping T-shirts for lobster and fish. Two of his mates turned up (this is several miles out from the village when we were anchored in the lee of a long reef, these guys swimming for 6 hours or more, no snorkelling gear, just a steel rod to spear fish. We gave hot chocolate and coffee to warm them up then dinghied them to a hidden coastal drop-off in the dark.

Viva Noel the driver! - now and then you are lucky enough to meet just the right person – someone who makes an experience magical, can cut through the dross and get you just where you want to be, or the things you need but can't explain with 'poco poco espanol', takes you to the most fantastic natural foods restaurant at his mate's place, and his mate turns out to be another magician who can get you the best organic coffee you'll ever taste, catches or grows all the food he puts on your plate, and makes Mageritas to die for, then Noel even turns up in an emergency at midnite and becomes a true hero, staying on task til all is resolved by mid morning, and puts the best Cuban music on your stick as his wife is a Salsa teaches, then just before you leave turns up at the marina with his whole family with gifts because we've made so much use of his resources and tipped him well that he now has enough money to overhaul the engine in his 23 year old Lada that is his taxi. Love ya, Noel!

Speaking of cars – you know Cuba has all the 1950-60's collectibles?! Some are spoiled with garish hand painted coats, others tarted up with shiny magwheels, but mostly they're well cared for and in original condition – just stunning to see not another era of car in a busy but decrepit street, like being in a movie set. And we were often riding in them as taxis. Big bench seats, old leather, rumbling V8, clunky stick shift, insignia atop bonnet looming ahead, chromed wings disappearing behind -mmm, loved it!

Rory arrived in Santiago de Cuba, his very first trip outside NZ! - transited LAX, Mexico City and Havana and arrived in fine form in a non-english speaking communist country carrying booty, a big camera and newby looks – how did he manage that!?

Oh, I could go on about our time in Santiago de Cuba – the impressive Morro Castle guarding the harbour entrance, time spent exploring the mercados, the father of the Cuban revolution Jose Marti's tomb, the best Rum in Cuba, gorgeous young women and their sexy salsa moves to very loud music, run down facilities everywhere including concrete docks that damaged Whakaari's gunwhale in a big wind while I was away, cruisers from Canada, Australia, Sweden and South Africa and their stories, Cayo Granma and its hurricane ravaged town, but there is so much more to write about.

Some cruisers thought Cuba was impoverished, living in the past, and falling apart, and that all Cubans wanted to do was leave.

I saw a country quietly waiting for the US trade embargo to die an overdue death, maintaining what they had as best as they could with the meagre resources available so they could be bought back to life when the markets opened up, keeping the distractions and consumerism & waste of our modern world to the minimum so that the young generation focused on the country's wellbeing, and making life fun in the meantime with music and dancing every night everywhere!

The loss of the Eastern bloc markets with the collapse of USSR etc, the rediculous continuation of the trade embargo by the States has virtually stalled Cuba's development, but you can see everywhere that Castro's vision of a self reliant, agricultural based economy is still being quietly pursued.

And the people are strong, happy and confident. Every person I asked had no desire to leave Cuba, tho clearly they do leave, to Miami especially, and of course we still hear about the “wet foot – dry foot” reference to refugees coming ashore in Florida.

Their health services are amazing, with modern medicine practice being the norm, and education for the children is clearly a huge priority. But there is little money, and wages are pitiful. A busy GP can expect to earn the equivalent of US$40, and there are few big income jobs – its a flat structure to ensure everyone can get by, regardless of their trade or profession. A new car is virtually out of the question for 99% of Cubans.

It all works just fine

There are no modern communications that we take for granted.- iPhones? What are they? Every frontera official would ask if I had any broken electronics to give away, so they could break them down for parts, or repair them for their children.

And the Communist regime continues to block such things as Hotmail, Facebook, Google, and will not allow banks to accept American credit cards.

But where there is opportunity, someone will find a way to benefit, and occasionally you would see some pretty impressive bling, esp. amongst the young party people out on the town – the occasional android phone, some big name fashion labels, a boy racer car, sharp haircuts, gel and jewellery

• “in Cuba you can get nothing, and everything”

Fresh crushed sugar cane drink on the sidewalk

I experienced a vibrant, proud culture where people were happy, healthy, and getting themselves ready for the new order. I still saw poverty, and idleness, but it was minor given the limits on resources.

Their attitude to Americans generally showed what a dinosaur the US administration is, as Cubans welcome tourists from the States -its the return to the States and treatment by US officials that makes Americans fearful of Cuba, not Cuba itself. The inevitable lifting of the trade embargo will see a rush of tourism development which is already simmering away as Cubans prepare to take advantage of a new wealth. I just hope it doesn't destroy the Cuba I was lucky enough to experience 'before the goldrush'.

In Part 2 of this Cuba blog I'll describe Whakaari's journey along the Southern Coast, time spent in the extreme opposites of Cayo Largo and Isla de Juventud, fantastic time ashore in beautiful Trinidad, and my departure from Los Morros across the Yucatan.