View from the Bassins Bleu Hike, Haiti

Today was a very exciting day, one which began at 0500 for me. I took some scientific observations of the harbor after my anchor watch, and all hands were woken up at 0630 to get an early start on the day.

Boat runs ashore began just after lunches had been made and cleaned up. After gathering on the pier, we began our trek to the waterfall. Another waterfall, but one which served as a fitting conclusion to our Caribbean adventures. Just outside the city of Jacmel proper, we had to ford a river, flowing grayish brown with the silt of eroded highlands after last night’s rain. The river was about 50 feet wide and running swiftly. We were quite a sight all hiking our shorts up or holding someone’s hand. There was a huge crowd of locals gathered on the far shore. I found out only after we had passed that a man had drowned in the river and the crowd was surrounding his body.

The hike itself was long, hot and humid- not like the boiling lake, but closer than anything else thus far. Our objective was well worth the effort, however: a twenty foot waterfall cascading down a rock chute like the ones which direct cement out of the mixer, behind which were a series of pseudo caves of eroded rock. The water plunged into a sapphire-blue pool- no joke. This pool cascaded into another of equally brilliant color. Michelangelo could not have painted a more paradisiacal setting (though we would have been absent from his version- we churned up a fair amount of silt.)

Haiti reminds me of the rural parts of Egypt- the parts still near enough to the Nile for things to grow. Despite the deforestation problem, this is still a moist tropical land. Just as in Egypt, I felt very out of place. Just as in Egypt, I carried a fistful of colored pencils and crayons to distribute to kids along the way. Similar to Egypt, poverty was everywhere, and vendors would get right in your face with their goods, just as idle men would latch onto your group and try to guide you. One guy did that to us- one of the few overweight Haitians I saw, and in my naïveté, I believed him to be our hired guide and spoke to him for a while. He told me to shut up when I wouldn’t give him money and said goodbye to him.

It was very cool to be able to use French again. I successfully negotiated a couple of purchases and helped Mallory with one of hers. It came in useful most when we were granted a little free time, here in larger groups with at least one Male in each (I’m picturing my mom locking arms with me while walking down the streets of Cairo.) A guy named Michael latched on to us- at first we were wary, but he turned out to be pretty cool. When we told him we were looking for a place to get a drink, he essentially led us into the ghetto. Tristan and Cameron were content to be led, but Mallory and Mary were beginning to get a little nervous. We finally sat down at a dirty little open air bar, complete with buzzing flies and cigarette butts on the cement-slab floor.

The bar proved to be just a front for a brothel being operated upstairs. It was great. The most interesting place I’d seen so far. Over a round of Ting, a local grapefruit soda reminiscent of Fresca but with more bite, Michael taught us a bit of creole. For example, “Bum une ___” (pronounced “bohm-y-oone”) means “give me a ___.” As we were relaxing, we heard music in the background. Michael led us there next, down a little alley into what appeared to be someone’s backyard. There was a huge crowd gathered, but we didn’t stay long- I have the idea Michael was asked to get these white guys out of their little fete. I can’t complain though- interested as I was in the music, I have never felt more out of place before.

We returned to our meeting place on the pier via the beach, where a hurricane some years ago had deposited a 60 to 80 foot ship. Its rusted carcass was all that remained, and I got what I hope turns out to be a great picture of it with Gamage in the background.

As Sherman brought us bore us closer the Gamage in the giant rolling seas and beneath a gray and rainy sky, I noticed people on the foredeck hauling back the anchor. The next two hours were chaotic as we got underway. The rain cast a surreal feeling over the scene as everyone scuttled about to be where they needed to be. Everyone was great though- an example of how a well-practiced crew performs its duties.

So begins our 1000+ mile journey home. Gone are the days of tropical waterfalls and coral reefs. I will miss the Caribbean, and Haiti too. For all its poverty and dinginess, it has as much character if not more than any other Caribbean port we’ve visited. I get to be Junior Watch Officer on our next watch, which begins at 0400. We get to watch the sun rise on the first day of our passage home.