Duct Tape Airlines

A Visit to Jurassic Park

I thought he was joking. He got into the car at the Miami airport after a flight from the Dominican Republic, and explained that his airplane had been held together with duct tape. Duct tape? Well, see for yourself. I’m no airline mechanic, but that looks like the ubiquitous gray tape to me. What do you think?

Needless to say, my flight to the DR was on JetBlue. I have no points available and no intention to fly on Duct Tape Air.

Our first week in the Dominican Republic began in Marina Puerto Bahia on our 38-foot sailboat. My husband had arrived after his solo tour of the Caribbean, and I joined him when he reached the point where he wanted to settle for a bit. The last time I was aboard for any length of time was several years ago, when we cruised down the Intracoastal Waterway, so I had to begin the sea sickness protocol once again.

I get motion sickness from anything that moves, but the saiboat, particularly on the open water, is the worst. I begin each morning with an antacid (currently Rolaids works), then my blue wrist zapping gadget (EmeTerm), and head out from belowdecks to turn my face into the wind, sit in my designated writing chair, and get to work.

We left the marina and anchored in a private cove with scenery that looks a great deal like Jurassic Park. It is part of the Los Haitises National Park, and we had the cove to ourselves for an entire week. The park is full of wild horses and thick with various birds who checked us out from time to time. Baby geese and falcons flew close, their little wings erratic as they learn to hunt in the mangroves.

The local farmers sell fresh food at stalls in Samaná and along the highway that heads toward Santo Domingo (and the closest large airport), two and a half hours away. We dined on local mangos, papayas, avocados, tomatoes, onions, potatoes, carrots, watermelon, and other unknown tropical fruits. We found local eggs, meats, and cheeses in the grocery store.

What did we not find? Fresh milk. All the milk we found, even in the largest grocery store in Santo Domingo, was UHT (Ultra High Temperature milk in a box that can sit on a shelf for a very long time), which made my husband scowl. He makes yogurt, and the UHT has no nutritional value. His yogurt still tastes great, and covered in honey from our farm, my breakfast habit is here, even on the boat.

And so here I am, writing on the water and managing my seasickness while the world spins and Iran burns. I hope by the time you read this, things have changed.