CUBA AND THE MARINA HEMINGWAY

Reese Palley

It is enormous.

At first glance it looks like a small delta that has been diked and tamed and dotted with structures the convenience of which make cruising sailors round eyed with surprise.

Back in the days before the Cold War painted Cuba black the Marina Hemingway was planned and mostly paid for by `Old Blue Eyes', Mr `In Like Flynn' and even Meyer Lansky who built a casino, the remains of which can still be seen on the site of the marina. Cuba in those halcyon (halcyon for some, not so nice for most) days was peopled and played in by Hollywoodian myths and satyrs who needed a pace to tie up their floating bordellos. The concept of Marina Hemingway was born out of the needs of the unconscionably rich. A place to play, to be seen and to be protected from the importuning crowds of `po' folk' in Havana.

Mr Churchill's Curtain came down when Cuba made its fateful turn toward the East. After rebuffs from the American State Department, Castro, in his need for a protective big brother, threw in his lot with Mr Khrushchev. The US could have had a friendly and accommodating neighbour in Cuba but, like so many similar instances in Latin America, it did not work out to America's advantage.

Then came the Missile Crises and the Bay of Pigs (crazinesses on both sides) and Cuba, this most magical cruising ground for yachts, lying only ninety miles south of continental USA, was lost to a generation of American sailors. For some reason the rest of the world's yachts followed in the wake of America and avoided Cuban waters and the delights of the Cuban countryside.

There may well have been a time when westerners were welcomed with as much enthusiasm as typhoid carriers, but that has evaporated with the bursting of the Soviet bubble. Suddenly, in the eyes of Cuban officialdom, the `Monster of the North' has lost his hump and his horns. Uncle Sam is now viewed as a rich uncle to whom the Cuban nephews have been impolite and in whose will they would like to be included. Cuba now seeks to make amends.

The amends take the form of ease in all touristic activities. Sailors are mainly interested in how these affect us, and new attitudes permeate all contacts between Cuban people, the Cuban Government and those yachts which have found their way to Cuba recently.

A recent arrival was met by three unarmed English speaking officials and an enormously helpful English speaking medical officer. Ten minutes later (no kidding) they were headed into one of the four canals, each just under a mile long and lined with full service modules. The doctor rode along and arranged water, electricity and telephone within a few minutes of berthing.

The marina has no swell. None. It is, from a sailor's point of view, the best protected safe harbour imaginable. In the deep winter there can be occasional northers -- there was one last year -- which send seas over the outer sea wall and into the first canal. No problem, as by that time everybody is snugged up in the third canal where no seas can possibly reach.

The Marina itself is a physical marvel as well as being beautiful. At one end a hotel is rising with the most marvellous name, The Old Man of the Sea Hotel. They promise that it will be World Class but knowing Emerging Economies perhaps it will be Almost World Class. Inland, contiguous with the Marina, is the land upon which a championship golf course will be built. At the entrance a complex of buildings are being readied for repair facilities. A major European ship repair yard, beloved of mega-yachts, is presently in negotiation to establish a repair facility capable of serving the entire Caribbean.

The wide lawns between the canals are mowed and green and the mosquitoes, when the wind is from the land, are small and congenial. Along the canals bungalows have been built and more are going up as we speak. However rentals on the bungalows are high so plan to stay on your boat. Three restaurants, four discos and five bars take care of nightly needs and there is a shopping centre with the highest prices for imported goods this side of Tokyo. No problem -- bring your own vittles and buy your souvenirs in Old Havana.

The marine rush is on. There is a Brit consortium seeking concessions, but the first boy on the block is Yacht Support Services of London which has a contract to service and represent visiting foreign yachts and to encourage the development of chartering the remarkable waters of Cuba. YSS, as it is affectionately know to people who have too much money to bother counting, will deliver next day by air a 2000 pound engine part, Beluga Caviar, pick up your crew at the airport and see them through customs, provide a salsa band to greet guests as they arrive at the gangplank and anything else that mega-yachts might need. Of course they do similar stuff at a reasonable cost for us little guys.

There is an open air cafe called Papa's (what else?) at one end of the Marina which has afternoon and nightly entertainment. Most of the music is indigenous and genuine salsa. What the Cuban lasses do with that music should be restricted to adults over the age of twenty-one. Across the canal from Papa's is a group of houses, not bungalows, complete with swimming pool, outdoor bar and food service and a large supply of handsome and accommodating beach boys. And, oh yes, there is a little white truck with the legend `Room Service -- 24 Hours' which scoots around the Marina night and day bringing sustenance to folk starving to death at four in the morning.

There is no colour line in Cuba, which has forged a single people from among a panoply of tans. One shade is more intriguing than the next and the stories your fathers or grandfathers tell of Cuban ladies' abilities to amuse, entertain and delight can be believed.

The first shock comes when visitors notice that there are no hands out, no sly requests for baksheesh and no corruption. Everything is above board and no one has their hand in your pocket. Having been financially raped by most of the marine officialdom of the known world (save only my country and yours) we were, at first, bemused and untrusting of this ungreedy attitude. We waited for the other shoe to drop. No other shoe fell the whole time we were there. Perhaps things will change. Lord, I hope not!

The Cubans did ask for medicines and vitamins, not for themselves individually but for the hospitals and children's institutes which are short of the simplest remedies. Bring in vitamins and aspirin. (Buy slightly outdated vitamins. They should be very cheap and will be gobbled up long before the dating means anything significant in terms of diminished effectiveness).

Charts of Cuban waters are corrected daily by the Oceanographic Institute and are available for $15 from YSS. They are dependable. Anyway, cruising in Cuban waters, as in Bahamian waters, is essentially by eyeball. Get the sun behind you, do not attempt to be brave in the night and all will be well. The Marina people tell me that they have traced a 5 metre route entirely around Cuba, most of which, at least in the south, is inside the protecting barrier of islands and cays.

The South Coast is a cruising heaven. The winds are mostly from the lee of the land and the area is seeded with a thousand islands and cays. Do not miss Cay Largo and Isla de la Juventud. You will not believe.

Cruising these waters is possible but complicated as the Cubans have not yet developed a cruising log/permit similar to those used in Greece and Turkey, but they are at work on the concept. Cruising will not be easy for the next twelve months or so but nobody ever promised adventuresome sailors a rose garden.

Only the United States raises difficulties for yachts visiting Cuba. Canada has just renounced the American embargo and the rest of the world has long since invited Cuba into the comity of Nations. With this move by Canada I suspect that the US, goaded by private commercial interests who see Cuba as an important market, will not be far behind.

(1420 words)