After 2 years and more money than anticipated, the Sorry Dog Boat is finished.  Let’s follow the Feel Good Girls as they show us around…

The pilot house is finished with the brass trim and the mahogany cabinets.  The windows provide an excellent view of the surroundings.

The main couch in the Pilot House is big enough for a small party.  Notice the table, I think it is one of the most interesting I have seen.

Here is the Sorry Dog himself explaining how to catch a few more mermaids.

Must have been good training.  Looks like our Mermaid caught a ‘Dog’ fish.
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If you look hard enough, You can see Carl helping take pictures of the FeelGood girls.

The bow has a 4 person hot tub.  Some days I wish I was a hot tub.

Now this is a bow ornament.

Isn’t this a great shot of downtown?

Sometimes this job is just fun!!!

After a hard days work, the FeelGood girls take a little rest in the master stateroom which is big enough for a small party.

We had an opportunity to take some pictures of the feel good girls in a 69 Mustang Mach1 owned by our very own Mr. Crispy.  It still looks good with good looking women in good looking cars.  This is FeelGood Girl Jackie.

This is FeelGood Girl Tracey…
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and this is FeelGood Girl Sofia.

This is Mr. Crispy, our graphics designer surrounded by the things he likes best.   We would like to thank the FeelGood girls for spending the day on the Sorry Dog boat and letting us show off all of the great features!!

We could do some big featured boat type thing for Jessica but we figured we might as well just post some pics this time. Plus this type of a post would be better for grabbing the attention of a passer-by…

So without further BS, may I introduce Jessica…

Don’t say we never do anything nice for ya…

Our first featured boat is a 1979 60’ Hatteras Sport Fisher At Julington Creek.  It has been completely rebuilt in 2002 and is shown off by our Mermaid Gloria.  Lets take a look around:
 

This is a classic sports fisher and it comes with all the toys. The flybridge has plenty of room for partying or just relaxing.
 

Coming down from the flybridge is a large cockpit
 

The Saloon is expansive and has beautiful leather furniture.

Notice the highly polished wood…
 

At the end of the day, a nice cool shower gets you ready for the night life.

So, all who have traveled through the Carribean have heard about how cheap fuel is in Venesula and countries in the Banana Republic right?

We are sitting on the boat in Puerta Plata Harbor, Dominican Republic, having just won $5,900 in folding money from Joanie’s gamblink talents at the local casino.  We had money for Diesel fuel for our boat!!!  Our friend, Shelton, was a Millionaire and he didn’t have our problem with money plus Shelton knew he would be gone 6 to 8 months.  I was only going to be gone 7 days and we were now into months and we were still heading south.

We asked a local about fuel cost and he said $.95 for diesel-are we lucky or what!  we had paid $1.65 per gallon in the Bahamas.  LIFE IS GOOD IN PARADISE.  We gave our spanish speaking friend money to get the fuel at a local gas station.  We told him we would take all he could get.  Hell, we’re stealing the stuff-right.  When he pulled up to the boat with his ox drawn cart, 2 leaky rusted oil drums and an old water hose to transfer the fuel, Island Eddie asked about the rest of the fuel.  He said this was all we got for what we gave him.  I was the only one who spopke spanish and it wasn’t much, but after a lot of hand features and translation, our amigo pulled out a one liter coke bottle and said ‘this much diesel fuel $.95′.  We were thinking gallons, the Dominicans think in liters!!

Oh well, we had some fuel and we began to siphon it from the ox cart to the boat.  We were leaving in the morning for Samanna.  Another adventure for another time.

We left that morning and got out of the harbor and down the rocky coast before the engines stopped running-Yep, you guessed it, bad $.95 per liter fuel.  The seperators looked about the color of mud and we are drifting towards the rocky cliffs on shore.  I was in the engine room working on the seperators – the color of mud turned out to have about the same texture.  I gave up on trying to get both engines running and concentrated on getting the port engine running.  I heard Joanie screaming and now I hear the waves breaking on the rocks and we are next.  It was hot in that engine room, sweat and wanna be diesel fuel kept leaping out of the bucket as the boat is now parrallel to the waves. I now could hear Joanie calling to some spanish guys and to make my personal condition worse, the wanna be diesel fuel is now mixed with vomit-mine!  Some times it does suck to be us.  

I hollered for Island Eddie to try and start the port engine–cough, cough-hit and miss then a hit, but only at idle.  Hell thats better than what we had, at least now we can put it in gear and limp back out to deep water.  Shelton is having the same problems on his boat-Mud!  Neither boat could get above idle.  We need a safe harbor.  According to our chart, 5 miles east of our position is Sosua Harbor and, after lokking at the water ways guide, it says for LOCAL USE ONLY, NOT TO BE USED BY FORIGNERS FOR ANY REASON-EXPERIENCED BOATERS ONLY!  “A good idea upon entering is to catch a wave and surf through the narrow rocky shallow entrance”.  Since we are at idle speed with misfiring engines, this place sounded llike heaven.

Joanie named our surfing entrance into the little fishing harbor a MESS IN YOUR PANTS ADVENTURE!  Yes, we were the biggest two boats anchored except for the dominican gunboat charging to us with soldiers hanging off of the boat.  They had machine guns and they were doing some serious hand jestures and hollering about americanos.  I came out with my hands up-they sure were mad!

I was the only one smiling.  I explained, with my limited spanish, our problems to the El Capitan.  We were forbidden to get off of the boats.  We were also told to leave at first light or they would board us in the morning.  The thought of them finding Shelton’s 27 guns wasn’t pleasing.  Hell, we had more guns then they did!  We worked all night on the mud problem since this place was not heaven.

We only bumped bottom 3 or 4 times getting out of the harbor at first light.  The gun boat did come back next morning as we were pulling anchor.  I was told to take down our pirates flag-’a bad thing to have on a boat’ they said.  This time they brought a translator to make it easier.

As you cruise along the North East coast of the Dominican Republic, you will see 2 things.  One is large caves on the cliffs where the Tihianos Indians lived prior to Columbus discovering them (read ‘The Carribean’ by Michner).  As many as 15,000 to 20,000 would be slaughtered in a single day!  The Spanish wanted their gold and the salt flats on the western end of the island.

The other thing you will see is the whales that come to Samanna Bay to give birth.  The bay is over 40 miles loing of protected water and is breathtaking with color, whales blowing and islands.  Samanna, the town, sits at the very end of the bay with a hotel sitting high on a bluff.

Our trip and stay here deserves it own chapter.  We stayed 6 weeks and took a 300 mile bus ride across the country to the capital, Santo Domingo.  We rode the bus on the wrong side of the road, down hills at terrifying speeds.  I sat next to a man who had a large live pig bound in a croaker sack.  The pigs head rested on my lap and the chickens were hung upside down, alive and swinging from the ceiling.  The next chapter will also touch on our visit to the local cock fights with pictures.  Check out chapter 7 in the next issue.

The next stop on our “Don’t Stop the Carnival” cruise (which is a great book by Herman Wouk) is Samana in the Domican Republic.  OUr reliable Sat.Nav. unit tells us its a 36 hour cruise across the ocean.  The GPS is the greatest invention for adventurous ocean crossing boaters.  We ended up finding the Dominican Republic, hey, it’s hooked to Haiti and its a big island.  We did miss Samana but did find Purto Plata which is only a 100 miles miss.

It was an ugly 36 hour crossing.  You had to crawl on your hands and knees to go below and the boat kept dropping out from under us.  Trying to use the head was even more fun.  A fierce storm had blown us back west of hispania.

Our first inclination of how bad it was going to be was when we heard people calling for help on the VHF radio and then they started to pray.  We were too far away to help but did relay their position to a father and son on a boat coming back from St. Croix.  We lost contact with both boats around 3am in the morning.