It came as a surprise.A pleasant one, an unexpected one and, most of all, an important one.My plane from Belgium landed in time!And, what’s more, all my bags and important cargo made it quickly and completely into the Dominican Republic.All the beer, chocolate, waffles, mosquito rackets, and miscellaneous stuff for the boat survived the long trip and the several check points.What a relief!It was almost worth all the hassle, suffering and bad luck I experienced on other flights.Almost…
Once outside the airport of Puerto Plata, my big smile melted in the hot sun.Mark was nowhere to be seen.My happiness turned into disappointment and I wondered what had happened.What could be so hard about being in time to see your girlfriend after five weeks?I had visions of trying to make it back to Luperon by public transportation with five heavy pieces of luggage, sweating like mad, and thought about all my precious chocolate that would most definitely melt on the long, three legged trip back.In the midst of my contemplations, a tall guy with a scruffy beard and a huge smile on his face ran towards me.I received him with open arms and lots of kisses.After one big hug, it was time to get back to reality.Mark urged me towards the car.The wind was blowing hard already and the amount of clouds increased with the minute.We had to get going.Quickly…In all my excitement, I had forgotten about hurricane Ike.My bags got stuffed in with the groceries in the trunk and onto our laps.
Mark had rented a car and driver (Nino) with our friends Cindy and Gray.They’d done some sightseeing and shopping before picking me up.Because it was a Saturday, the check out lines in the supermarket had been extremely long, hence their frustrating delay.On the 1.5 hour ride back to Luperon, we exchanged stories.I told my friends about my wonderful stay in Belgium and they filled me in with the details about the Luperon life and hurricane preparations.Most of the boats were tied off in the mangroves and a whole bunch of big fishing boats had arrived, taking up temporary residence in another part of the mangrove rich bay.Supposedly, LuperonHarbour was a chaotic mess, never seen before…Nino rushed us towards our destination, as safely as possible.He knew the importance of getting there before Ike did.
From the moment we arrived at Puerto Blanco Marina, Mark took all my luggage to the boat.I had no idea where Irie was located and wouldn’t find out till later that night.It took a while for my boyfriend to get back and I worried about my valuable stuff having fallen in the water.I was still in the weird state of mind that something had to go terribly wrong.That feeling had been with me since I got up in Belgium earlier that long day.Luckily, nothing happened to my bags, which even stayed dry during the dinghy ride to Irie, because the wind came out of the west instead of its normal easterly direction.The hurricane was good for one thing!
The wind got stronger and the clouds darker.In a hurry, Mark brought the groceries to the boat.Within minutes, the storm was here.A torrential downpour followed.I took shelter under the thatched roof of the marina restaurant, together with a group of other sailors.Gusts of wind blew the rain “inside” and we had to move inwards.While I talked with some friends, Mark showed up, totally drenched.He’d been helping a friend secure his boat.It was just amazing how everybody had been lending hands to everybody the precious days.Mark looked exhausted.I was tired as well, for other reasons, and couldn’t wait to get to our house on hulls.We were trapped in the marina, however, until the first break in the rain.When that came, we rushed ourselves and the dogs to the boat.Kali, who was very happy when she first saw me (Darwin was ecstatic), was totally “out of it” now, because of all the thunder and lightning.
Around 10 pm, we finally settled at home.It was long dark by now, and my impression of the area would have to wait till morning. Mark kept checking our lines, while I unpacked my bags, showed all the goodies and told a few more stories.Our VHF radio stayed on through the night, a distraction, but a good precaution, in case something happened.While the rain was pounding on the decks and the wind was shrieking through the rigging, we fell asleep, knowing that we were well-secured and making lots of electricity with the newly installed wind generator.
We woke up to a quiet and calm morning.The water was very mucky, even darker than normally, and full of debris.We were surrounded by sticks, leaves, pieces of tree trunks and garbage.The air was crisp, the strength of the sun bearable.All the sailboats around us were still where they were supposed to be.I took a little dinghy ride around the harbour, to get a feel for what was going on.In two places, a whole group of colourful fishing boats was tied to the mangroves.Not much else was going on.We heard the wind had peaked to 50 knots that night, but we didn’t believe it, since our wind generator never turned off.Something it would do when the wind reaches a speed of 35 knots.We might have been a bit more protected than the other boats, but still…The fortunate thing was that we had been situated out of Ike’s path. He turned south over Cuba, next door, which got devastated.It could have been this area, if Ike would have altered course just a bit.
So, we survived hurricane Ike (which had the force of a tropical storm over the Dominican Republic) without any problems.It was a lot of hassle for Mark and friends to move our boat to the mangroves and secure her with five lines and three anchors.It also took us a couple of days to get re-anchored elsewhere in the bay and deal with all the muddy lines, anchor chain and anchors.But, with the storm came a few days of cooler weather, something we all craved.That was almost worth all the time, effort and bug bites accompanying the move to the mangroves.Almost!
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New Blog: Roaming About - A Life Less Ordinary
Since November 2015, Mark and I have a new website to chronicle our current house and pet sitting adventures, camper van travels and alternative lifestyle. Check it out here.
Irie is a Fountaine Pajot Tobago, a 35 foot catamaran with a beam of about 19 feet. She was born in France in 1998, and spent her childhood in the Caribbean, before arriving in Maryland, USA.
Irie used to be called Big Trouble, a name she didn't like. From the moment she received her new name, she became a happy girl again, feeling healthy and almost as good as new. Just like everybody else she has her own problems and we keep working on that never ending project list. After sailing thousands of miles, we are still very happy with her and wouldn't want any other boat. For over seven years now, she performed as our house, transportation device and office! But, as of November 2014, Mark and I are ready for new adventures, so Irie can be yours! We have put her up for sale. For more information, check out my blog about our decision or the full listing.
"Irie" means "all good" in Jamaican (Creole). "Irie, mon!" We hope our lives remain irie, and yours as well.
It's Liesbet
Liesbet is a freelance writer and lifetime adventurer from Belgium. Her biggest passion is traveling, and... trying new things. That's how she ended up with Mark, and on this boat. She's flexible, adventurous and easy-going; a must for her kind of life. Some people call her "crazy", but let's just stick with "different".
She adored Kali and Darwin, and actually likes all animals, except mosquitoes, the only creatures she can kill. There's not much that she really hates, other than cruelty, hypocrisy, helplessness and injustice in general. She's still excited about seeing new places, writing about them and hanging out with dolphins, and other wildlife.
Living on a tight budget has been her lifetime commitment in order to travel "forever". To create that budget, she writes, translates (Dutch-English), proofreads, and -if really really really needed- does manual labor.
For more info about Liesbet's articles, click here.
It's Mark
Mark was born in Connecticut, but grew up in upstate New York. He lived in Massachusetts, before moving to California, his favorite state. After living "the American dream" for ten years, he decided it wasn't his thing. After meeting Liesbet in December 2004, he started to travel indefinitely, first by camper, then by sailboat.
He hates ignorance, traffic, and bad customer service. The things he likes are being single-focused, hiking, listening to good music, and just chilling. His biggest passion is sailing, and that's what he is doing right now, full time.
Just so he would never have a spare moment of time anymore, he came up with a great idea to provide WiFi on boats in April 2009. With the help of Liesbet, he invented and developed The Wirie, a marine WiFi system, which grew to be a real business with a partner in the United States and is still expanding with Tim's help.
After a year of full time commitment and very hard work in 2014, he developed a new line of The Wirie products, combining WiFi and cell technologies. The Wirie pro was released in January 2015.
It's Kali
Our girl was an Australian Shepherd mix, with a fluffy tail and a cute face. She survived an awful disease as a puppy, and used that strength throughout her whole life.
Kali was obsessed with tennis balls. She loved human food, but was not allowed to have any. Except on her birthday, when a deliciously cooked steak awaited her. She liked to sniff and stroll around, doing her thing, knowing that we were around. She loved rolling in the grass, but what she liked most was being in the water. She could literally wade in it for hours, wagging her tail, pawing rocks or digging for imaginary things, occasionally sticking her whole face under the water surface, and telling us how much she liked doing this. She was terrified of thunderstorms and fireworks, or everything producing a loud boom. She also didn't like fake grass.
Kali and her unrelated "brother" Darwin were well-traveled puppies, and of all the Central American countries, they liked Mexico , Belize, and Costa Rica the best. Why? There are lots of beaches, calm water, and no leash law! While cruising on Irie, they loved the Bahamas the most.
Tragedy struck just when we were ready to explore and have fun in the "real Caribbean". Kali died unexpectedly in Fajardo, Puerto Rico, on December 26th, 2008. To understand what happened, read the blog "Goodbye, Sweet Girl" of January 2009 (http://www.itsirie.com/2009/01/goodbye-sweet-girl.html). We still miss her very much and think about our special girl every day.
It's Darwin
Darwin was also an Australian Shepherd mix, with a pretty tail, and handsome face. He was very playful, a little dumb sometimes (in a doggie way), but knew darn well how to steal your heart. He was so funny, rolling over in the grass, being eager to do tricks, making funny noises and looking very innocent. He had a way of getting comfortable wherever he laid down, ideally resting his head on one thing or another, from somebody's lap to the table.
Darwin hated to get his toes wet, especially after it rained on the grass. He also didn't like to be rinsed off, have his nails clipped or get a brushing. He loved to annoy his sister Kali, nipping her or grabbing her leg to get her to play. He liked being chased by other dogs, retrieving toys from the air, water, and floor, digging holes in the sand, swimming, "hipping" you with his wet butt, licking good smelling air, eating treats, and wagging his tail. But, most of all he loved to be with us, whatever we did or wherever we were. He was a happy boy!
On December 1st, 2010, not even two years after we lost Kali, disaster struck again in our small, but happy family. Darwin had been diagnosed with malignant tumors in the US and died two days later. We were just heading back to our life on Irie in the Caribbean after a three month break. A boat and life without dogs. We still cannot grasp or belief it. Our hearts will always ache because of this tremendous loss. For the story about Darwin's last days, read the blog "Darwin: Our Bestest Boy"of December 2010 (http://www.itsirie.com/2010/12/darwin-our-bestest-boy.html).
Around 10 pm, we finally settled at home. It was long dark by now, and my impression of the area would have to wait till morning. Mark kept checking our lines, while I unpacked my bags, showed all the goodies and told a few more stories. Our VHF radio stayed on through the night, a distraction, but a good precaution, in case something happened. While the rain was pounding on the decks and the wind was shrieking through the rigging, we fell asleep, knowing that we were well-secured and making lots of electricity with the newly installed wind generator.
We woke up to a quiet and calm morning. The water was very mucky, even darker than normally, and full of debris. We were surrounded by sticks, leaves, pieces of tree trunks and garbage. The air was crisp, the strength of the sun bearable. All the sailboats around us were still where they were supposed to be. I took a little dinghy ride around the harbour, to get a feel for what was going on. In two places, a whole group of colourful fishing boats was tied to the mangroves. Not much else was going on. We heard the wind had peaked to 50 knots that night, but we didn’t believe 
it, since our wind generator never turned off. Something it would do when the wind reaches a speed of 35 knots. We might have been a bit more protected than the other boats, but still… The fortunate thing was that we had been situated out of Ike’s path. He turned south over 
a lot of hassle for Mark and friends to move our boat to the mangroves and secure her with five lines and three anchors. It also took us a couple of days to get re-anchored elsewhere in the bay and deal with all the muddy lines, anchor chain and anchors. But, with the storm came a few days of cooler weather, something we all craved. That was almost worth all the time, effort and bug bites accompanying the move to the mangroves. Almost!
