Sea Grape Sandal Sailboat Races

Sometimes its so surreal that is like living in a dream

We sailed to Cocoa Beach, about 6 miles West of Petit-Goave today. It is quite secluded and used to accommodate a resort for the wealthy which is now run down and dilapidated but the remains of the grounds are amazing. This little beach has its own small reefs, sandy beaches and palm trees along it, and the only inhabitants now are the local children and a couple adults who fish, farm sugarcane, and make do with what they have. There are fishing boats and skeletons of boats which were to be built lining the shore just within the tree line. The warm water gently combs the sand and the sound of laughter comes from the east end of the beach where children are playing in the water together.

After coming in to shore we first walked down to explore the laughter and as we neared the children we were surrounded by them, asking for dollars at first but then they went back to playing and sharing with us their game. They had been racing their homemade sailboats, made of sea

Money does not buy happiness

grape leaves stuck onto a stick, which was then stuck into a trashed sandal of their choice, many to choose from amongst the trash that drifts in from the city. It was really amazing to witness and be part of something so simple and so fun at the same time. Sometimes it really puts you in your place to see these people having so much fun when they have so little, not even clothes in many cases. We cheered them on as they raced their little boats in to the shore from a short distance out and they laughed and wanted to see pictures we had taken of them. Everyone here seems to love pictures as long as they get to see them afterwards. No different than many I suppose.

Some people sit upon the steps to the old pool

Next we went West, where we noticed a large structure resembling an old Greek theatre or something. Broken pillars formed a more structured outline of the shape behind the palms surrounding it and stairs allowed access from the beachside corner. We approached the stairs and realized that this was no theatre. It was an old pool, magnificent back in its day Im sure, with an invisible edge to form a waterfall and some sort of wet bar just below the grilling station from long ago, likely during the French occupancy of Haiti. Whoever built this back in the day knew what they were doing to entertain many.

We toured the beach a little longer as the sun set, looking at all of the dugout canoes and boats in the sand and then headed back to the boat, fired up the engines and headed back, only in time to sail through a huge lightning storm that came upon us for the duration of our return voyage to the bay. The Southern Wind held her own and powered through with no problem, all the way to the calm harbor and we called it a night.