Reel News’ 52 feet and Hatteras hull were plenty to handle a trip such as this.

While planning for this trip to Cuba, I talked to many cruising people and all the stories they told fueled my desire to explore this country mostly unseen by Americans for the past 30 years. Each cruising book I read told of how beautiful it was and the friendliness of the people.

But the stories I read about Castro’s government and police state left me uneasy. I should have worried the night before we left, but Sloppy Joe’s Bar on Duval Street erased all my fears.

When we were 12 miles offshore of Hemingway’s Marina about seven miles west of Havana, we reported in on the VHF radio. The books I read said the Guard personnel spoke English but we thought it would be better to try their native language. No response.

We called again when the radar told us we were nine miles from the sea buoy. Still no response. The same at seven miles. And at five miles.

We could clearly see the buildings of Havana and reality began to sink in. Our conversations had a nervous twitch. The closer we got the more I unconsciously turned up the volume on the silent radio. When the voice finally bellowed out in Spanish asking who we were, I nearly jumped overboard. We were three miles out and there was no turning back.

Within minutes we were in the marina harbor. The Guard was first to board us. “Permission to board, Captain?” they asked in broken English. I’ve been boarded by our Coast Guard for routine safety checks and they never asked permission first. These guys were polite and it was obvious they had received special training to learn how to deal with tourists — even American tourists.

They took our passports and said they would be returned by Immigration, asked us about weapons (which were allowed), performed a routine search and departed after consuming a couple of beers. Next came the doctor. Some simple questions, a couple of beers and he was gone.

Five hours and numerous beers later we completed the procedure and were given directions to our slip. After more visits by the harbor master, his assistant and a few others attempting to make us feel welcome, we were finally alone. We did not feel threatened or unwelcome. I began to start wondering how all the fearsome stories about Cuba got started.

We cleaned and secured the boat. It was time to kick back and enjoy. “Hey, meester, is there anything I can do for you?” We were about to meet Francisco Hernandez Alvarez, who would be our constant companion for the next five days.

We were starving and agreed to let Frank line up a taxi to take us to a nearby restaurant. The five-hour boat trip and the five hours it took to clear Cuban customs had drained most of our energy. The taxi turned out to be something made in Russia 20 or more years earlier. But the ride was no more than five minutes and the meal that followed made it all worthwhile.

Because private enterprise isn’t openly allowed, we were ushered onto a patio in a private home. Everyone ordered the specialty, barbecued pork chops. (Incidentally, every meal we had came with “Moors and Christians,” which were black beans and rice. Moors represents the beans and Christians represents the rice.)

Our plan was to explore downtown Havana the next day and the countryside after that. We commandeered a van for our trip to Havana. The driver let us off at the market, which reminded us of a typical market in any Latin city.

Again, it was interesting watching capitalism work only blocks from their Capital Building. The streets were full of tourists from all over the world — except the United States, of course.

We spent most of the remainder of the afternoon in the Revolution Museum. We saw the corridor where Fidel Castro chased Batista as his troops were overtaking Havana. We saw a model of Che Guevara and his mule (full size) and of United States armament sent to defeat the revolutionaries. The remains of the U.S. spy plane they shot down and the restored boat, Granma, that Castro, Guevara, Raul Castro and 79 other men crossed from Mexico to the south shore of Cuba, were there.

It was an interesting afternoon and the ride back to the boat was quiet, each of us filled with thoughts of what we had seen that afternoon. It was so different from what I had been told. No matter what you think of Castro and his government, he and his revolutionaries fought against great odds and won.

Around noon we left to explore the Vinales region. It is about 100 miles west of Havana and a beautiful drive on a four-lane interstate highway. There was hardly any traffic except for an occasional ox cart and cars from the 1950s.

Along the interstate were uncompleted crossover bridges. Each bridge had a government slogan such as, “Our People are the Power,” or “The Government is the People.” Maybe our politicians should be reminded from time to time who is the boss.

We do business with nearly every rogue country in the world. So you’d have to believe the reason we can’t legally visit nor do business with Cuba isn’t a morality issue.

The Helms-Burton Bill strictly restricts travel to Cuba and the spending of any country’s currency in Cuba by American citizens. If you go there illegally through the Bahamas or Mexico and our government wants to press the issue (which it typically doesn’t), the maximum penalty is $250,000 plus 10 years in jail.

If you go on a boat and get a Coast Guard permit (which takes five minutes to fill out) and bring back a box of Cuban cigars, the repercussion can be a $250,000 fine, the loss of your boat and 10 years jail time.

To confuse matters, if you depart from north of 26 degrees 19 minutes north (roughly north of Boca Raton, Fla.), then a permit is not required at all. You still can’t spend money but you don’t need official permission.

The ironic thing is that many believe if we were to open trade with Cuba, communism would go by the wayside. Fidel has used the United States’ economic policies to unite his people. The daily hardships they incur are blamed on the U.S.

Why are we having an economic war with a country just because it doesn’t believe as we do? Wasn’t our country founded on the belief that we have the right to believe as we want? We lost more than 58,000 brave young men in Vietnam but we do business with that country. Why shouldn’t we be able to visit, enjoy our neighbor and do business in Cuba like the rest of the world?

Because we were not allowed to legally spend money while in Cuba, we were fully hosted by Club Nautico Internacial Hemmingway de La Habana, the yacht club located at Hemingway Marina. As captain of our vessel I received a letter that said in part, “In our club there are members from 37 countries who believe the sea should unite rather than divide people.” I agree.