I can't deny that I think too much. Some people come out here with an enviable sense of easygoing certainty that everything'll work itself out, and while in general that's my personal philosophy, it hasn't quite translated to the cruising life. Even while I dream of the unknown (for me), I fret about it. Then, in my need to gather as much information as possible, I can think myself right into the fetal position, where I'd like to stay until the whole idea blows over, and I can safely look up and see that everything is just as I'd left it-secure, familiar, and, well, boring. Needless to say, if I let this pattern dominate Osprey's sailing, she wouldn't leave a bathtub.
Luperón and the Dominican Republic had always been on the itinerary this year, but as the time approached to leave the Bahamas, I started thinking too much and began to talk myself out of it. How many times had we heard and read that the harbor was like a cesspool? And the town itself? Dirty, dusty, and dangerous said the grapevine. And what about the stories of corruption and "gifts" to the local authorities? Depending on whose guide or blog you read, you could end up spending a whole day fending off heavily armed men in camos and khaki making attempts at your wallet. Then there was me, with my Spanish lessons from 30 years ago; did I still even have those brain cells? And the whole gun thing; did I really want to take my children to a country where people walked around with automatic weapons the size of a horse's leg?