"Christmas in Cuba"…. It had a nice alliterative ring to it when we first formed the idea back in the spring of 2006. Once my Mum and Dad had booked travel to Cienfuegos, we were committed to a time and a place - something cruisers are always warned against. My project management plan predicted we would arrive in Cuba in late November allowing a leisurely cruise along the coast before meeting up, however that plan lay in tatters after the delays caused by the need to change the engine head gasket in Curacao. Mother Nature also didn't like my plan, and produced a week of strong trade winds, which confined us and all our fellow cruisers to our protected anchorage. The extra days spent in Curacao allowed plenty of time for final farewells and the odd shared bottle of wine with our cruising friends who were taking the more conventional route to Panama via Colombia.

Eventually on 4th Dec we headed northwards on our longest trip since arriving in St Lucia almost a year before. We covered the 644 miles in exactly 5 days, mostly tearing along under reefed sails - recording our personal record of 158 miles in 24 hours. We didn't stop on Haiti, but we did sail close enough to see it's most spectacular mountain ranges - maybe by the time we return to the Caribbean next time round it will be politically stable enough to visit.

Our arrival in the marina at Santiago de Cuba was as surreal as one might expect of Cuba - we arrived in the midst of a torrential downpour, and were met by the smiling dock-master, George, clad only in his swimming trunks. I guess if it is raining hard and you don't have a raincoat, then stripping down to your trunks isn't such a bad idea!

Over the next 24 hours, we experienced the check-in process for which Cuba is famous - as one customs agent told us, "We learnt our bureaucracy from the Russians…". First up was a doctor who for £17 issued a statement that we were not contagious - she must have been telepathic, as she didn't ask a single question… Next was the vet - no we haven't acquired a pet - the vet was there to inspect our dried sausages… Close behind the vet was a trio from Customs, Immigration and the Harbour Master. All three tested our Spanish to it's meagre limits, but all were keen to know where we had visited previously, and even more keen to discus flying with Angus. Before they departed, they sealed our hand-held GPSs and flares in a carrier bag with "Aduana-Cuba" tape - to prevent us giving them to Cuban wannabe emigrants? Our final visitor for the day was "Whisky", the drug sniffing Labrador - how did she get back up the companionway?

After a long afternoon of watching forms being filled in, we were happy to see George appearing down the dock with a tray of ice cold Cuba Libres, made from the famous Habana Club rum, and the slightly less famous local brand of cola. When did you last arrive in an English marina and get welcomed with a free gin and tonic?

The check in process continued the next morning, with a visit from the agriculture inspector who confiscated a slightly dodgy looking onion and a clove of garlic. Thank goodness he didn't see the weevil infestation lurking in our Curacao muesli - he'd have had a fit (I certainly did!). Next was the "pest officer" who told us about Cuba's problem with large numbers of flies (he wasn't exagerating), and then proceeded to fumigate the boat with peach scented fly spray. By mid-morning, our Cuban visas had been issued, and we were finally cleared in and free to leave the marina.

(As an aside, a Portuguese yacht arrived in Santiago shortly after us - we don't know what triggered it, but they were subjected to a full boat search by half a dozen guys in jump-suits. Water tanks were opened, waypoints from their laptop and GPS were noted, and every single locker was inspected.)

Unlike many countries, the check in process is repeated every time you enter a harbour - no matter how small the harbour. In the very small harbours, the local Guardia (police) will commandeer a local rowing boat and a fisherman (or woman) to row them out to your yacht. We have heard from some cruisers who have found the constant check-in process to be oppressive, but we found all the visiting officials to be friendly, smiling and interested in what we are doing. Whilst conversations are hampered by our poor Spanish, we always have managed to communicate, even if we need the dictionary, our inflatable globe and even on occasion resort to drawing pictures. The Customs & Immigration officers in the Windwards and Leewards could learn a lot from their Cuban colleagues about customer care.

Cuban marinas, sadly, could learn a lot from their friends in Venezuela. In several of Cuba's natural harbours, anchoring is "no permiso", forcing cruisers to use the local marinas. Cuban marinas could be good, but…. The docks are solid, but the concrete is crumbling along the edges, leaving nasty metal spikes reaching out scrape your shiny topsides. There are electrical outlets on the docks, but the sockets are likely to be incorrectly wired. There are plenty of showers, but there may not be any water, any lights or a roof. There are loos, but there may be no loo-seats, paper or water. The chandlery is well stocked, but it is stocked with cans of local coke and Havana Club rum…. maybe that's not really a problem!

Our first stop in Santiago was to exchange some of our US dollars for some local Pesos. A few years ago, the dollar was the standard tourist currency in Cuba, but thanks to George W, dollars are now officially unwanted. We exchanged our dollars for a pitiful exchange rate, and then got 10% commission deducted. Ouch! If heading here, bring Euros or ££ - much better rates.

Pockets full of Pesos, we hit the centre of Santiago de Cuba to soak up our first experience of Cuban life. We weren't disappointed. From the four old guys playing "Buenavista Social Club" favourites outside the museum, to the young guys proudly displaying their bright yellow1952 Chevvy, we were entranced. There were none of the hustlers we had been warned about, and we even felt comfortable wandering around the town after dark.

However, a schedule is a schedule, and after a couple of days it was time to start heading west towards Cienfuegos. The southern coast of Cuba between Santiago and Cabo Cruz provides the most spectacular backdrop for a few days sailing - from the rugged Sierra Maestra (peaking at 1972m about 3 miles inland) the coast gradually sinks down to uninterrupted miles of uplifted marine terraces. All completely awe inspiring and impossible to capture on camera.

At Cabo Cruz, we discovered that landing there was "no permiso", due to packages of drugs being landed along this remote coast from Jamaica, just 80 miles away. However we were permitted to anchor off and snorkel on the reef. Sadly the coral in Cuba, described in our guide as "the finest in the Caribbean" has suffered the same fate as further south, with much of the reefs now littered with dead coral.

Next stop along the coast is the Archipielago de los Jardines de la Reina - the Gardens of the Queen. This is about 120 miles of mangrove islets surrounded by shallow water and coral heads - a massive version of the Islas Aves in Venezuela. With just five days left before we were scheduled to meet Mum & Dad in Cienfuegos, we decided to forego the labyrinthine inner channels, and scooted up the outside in reassuringly deep water. We broke the trip up with a couple of overnight stops, both of which required a final approach into the anchorage of a couple of miles motoring with less than a metre below the keel. That's another few grey hairs added to my collection.

Despite the remoteness of our anchorages, we received visits from fishermen who mostly just seemed to want a chat to add a bit of variety to their day, however if we did want a lobster for supper, they had several to spare. As compensation for not trading for lobsters (once a vegetarian, always unable to boil animals alive…), we kept a supply of cold beers for visitors so everyone was happy.

Here's our prime example of the wonderful Cuban people we met… Having declined lobsters the night before, we had an early morning visit from the skipper of one fishing boat bringing us a plate of boiled eggs, freshly fried fish fillets and crackers. What a fabulous breakfast. I explained how happy I was to have eggs as I had not been able to buy any in Cuba so far - so the skipper promptly rowed back to his boat to bring me a tray of two dozen fresh eggs. Only in Cuba…

By the time we had completed our clearing-in rituals at Cienfuegos and strolled up to Mum and Dad's hotel, we were just in time to see them returning from their initial exploration of the town. Very happy we all were to see each other - although we keep in touch by email, there is nothing like being able to have a hug.

We spent a couple of days in Cienfuegos - to allow our new crew to get accustomed to life on board, and also to search out some fresh provisions. Shopping in Cuba is like no other shopping experience. All Cuban's receive a weekly allowance of staples such as bread, rice, pasta, sugar, beans, and loo roll from the government. This means that these "basic" products are not stocked in the stores - hence the need to stock up well before leaving Curacao. Recently, farmers have been allowed to sell any produce they grow in excess of their required government quotas - so if you can find a market, you can stock up. Peppers, cucumbers, and muddy brown root vegetables seem to be the only veg available, but the papayas, bananas, pineapples, oranges and guayavas were delicious. Guayavas are the size of a small apple, and taste like raspberries but have the texture of a pear - ask Sainsburys to start importing them!

We had planned a nice gentle overnight sail down to Casilda - from where we would be able to spend Christmas snorkeling off the nearby reefs, walking along the 6 mile long white sand beach and catching a horse buggy up to Trinidad, a wonderfully conserved old colonial town. Ahh, those plans…. An approaching cold front from the north caused us to have to beat the entire way to Casilda in strong winds - resulting in a zig-zagging course that took us 23 ½ hours to cover the required 40 miles.

Still, we dropped anchor at 4pm, poured the tea and heaved a sigh of relief. Ten minutes later, we were underway again following a visit from an official who informed us it was currently "no permiso" to anchor at Casilda. Bugger. Where to go with just over an hour of light? A quick review of our guides and electronic charts and we headed out into a coral reef and sand-bank infested maze. With only a mile to go to our alternate anchorage, we discovered that the critical buoys marking a narrow channel through a sand-bank were missing. Having gone aground once in the fast failing light, as we tried to ease our way across, we doubled back hope of finding another alternate anchorage. A small mangrove islet a little way to the north promised some shelter from the forecast wind, but for once our trusty 23kg Delta anchor just refused to hold in the soft, silty mud. After five attempts, it was pitch black, and there was no option to go anywhere else. We had read about using two anchors in series, but had never tried it - seemed like a good time to give it a go. We secured our lightweight aluminium Fortress anchor in front of the Delta, dropped the whole lot over the side, and it set instantly. The new crew withstood all these rigours - but it sure wasn't the way I'd hoped to introduce them to the joys of Caribbean cruising.

The cold front was scheduled to arrive on Boxing Day, so we tucked ourselves away in protected bay for the festive season. Mum and I broke out the tinsel and gold bows, secured the Christmas tree to the mast compression post, and turned on the new LED fairy lights, whilst sharing my CD of carols with the deserted anchorage. The stresses of the previous day made decking the boat out for Christmas even more pleasurable. Santa found us despite our changed location, and a traditionally lazy day culminated in Mum beating us all at Mexican Train dominoes.

Once the weather perked up, we headed down to islands at the northern end of the Gardens of the Queen - Cayo Blanco and Cayo Zaza de Fuera. Both islands are dominated by mangroves, with a few palm trees planted near the beach bars - constructed to serve the day trippers arriving from Casilda. The highlight of the islands was the wildlife - the beaches are criss-crossed with trails from the multitudes of hermit crabs, and the dozens of prehistoric iguanas. Add to this the jutia - a 4kg edible tree rat - and you may not have everyone's ideal range of pets, but they are fascinating to watch.

Polly the Perkins engine had been behaving well since the head gasket change in Curacao, but chose to throw a complete wobbly whilst we were out in the cayos, miles from any support. Angus tried to start the engine one morning, but the engine wouldn't turn over - even with the assistance of a large spanner. Thankfully the engineering lessons from Sim were fresh in his memory, and the injectors were soon removed - revealing salt water welling up from the cylinders. I'm no engineer, but even I guessed that wasn't a good sign. We quickly turned off the engine sea water cooling inlet valve, and proceeded to suck the salt water out with a vacuum oil extractor. Everything must serve multiple purposes on a cruising boat. An oil change, and we were ready to try starting the engine - but we took no chances, first hanging a lucky black cat (from a bottle of wine!) in the engine bay. The good luck charm worked, and she fired up first time - and has run smoothly since (have I just jinxed the engine??!!).

Our last night in the cays was wonderful - we sat in the cockpit with our evening sundowners and watched for the green flash as the sun settled in the west and watched the moon rise in the east. This is the aspect of the cruising life that I really wanted to share with Mum & Dad.

We decided on an early return to Cienfuegos, in order to enable us to visit Trinidad by road. Public transport to Trinidad would only enable us to spend 55 minutes exploring the town before catching the bus back to Cienfuegos, so we decided to share a £60 taxi for the day. We had briefly toyed with the idea of renting a hire car - after all, there are only a few cars around, so the drive wouldn't be difficult… Thank goodness we went for the taxi. There may not have been many other cars on the roads, but I would never have coped with the ox carts, horse drawn buggies, goats, Tour de France style cyclists riding four abreast, cowboys herding cattle, and stretches of potholes which force cars to drive a mile on the wrong side of the road.

The centre of Trinidad is frozen in time - with a beautiful collection of opulent buildings from the nineteenth century. Armed with the "Lonely Planet", we hiked up to a lookout point from where we could look out over our cruising grounds to the south, and also down into valley to the north,once home to the prosperous sugar plantations. Carlos, our unofficial guide (the security guard from the communications station atop the hill) explained how it now costs more to produce the cane sugar than it can be sold for. He also told us how, following the "Triumph of the Revolution", an entire citrus plantation owned by a German family was bulldozed. Progress?

Trinidad gave us our first opportunity to try out a paladare - these are unofficial restaurants, where you are served home cooked local food by a family in their own home. We were "guided" to the paladare by a friendly local lady and ended up enjoying a splendid lunch seated in the basic courtyard of someone's home. Lobster figures large on the menu in Trinidad - I guess they are the "spare" lobsters that the fishermen land in Casilda 6 miles away. Dad and Angus enjoyed a grilled lobster for under £5 each.

Our time together on "Do It" was complete, but Angus and I decided to have our first holiday since leaving the UK (don't laugh!) and head up to Habana for a couple of days. We had booked a room in a casa particulare - effectively a B&B. For a very reasonable price, we had a room in an old colonial terraced home - in a slightly dodgy looking area. At street level, the place looked typically run down - peeling paint is a feature everywhere in Cuba other than the restored tourist centres - however once past the 3m high doors and up the stairs to the first floor, a whole different world awaited us. The place was immaculately tidy, not a spec of dust anywhere - which was quite amazing given that every inch of flat surface was festooned with glass animals, porcelain babies, ornate gilt framed mirrors, massive vases overflowing with gaudy plastic flowers, several complete tea sets, and dozens of rows of delicate glasses. I hardly dared to turn around in case I caused mass devastation with my backpack.

Habana (yep, it is spelt with a "b" over here) certainly met our expectations. On day one, we followed the "Lonely Planet" walking tours around the partially restored old town, enjoying the spectacular architecture and cursing the fact that our digital camera died on Boxing Day. There was no hassle from anyone, and we felt completely at ease even returning to our "casa" late at night after our final farewells with Mum and Dad.

On day 2 we hit the museums - hard. To prepare ourselves for an arduous day, we started at the Chocolate Museum - which thankfully also served drinking chocolate to wash down the chocolates handmade on site. Next up, the City Museum housed in a baroque palace, complete with strutting a strutting peacock in the courtyard, was Angus' favourite. A short stroll across town brought us to the Museum of the Revolution - an ex-presidential palace with decorative touches by Tiffany, it houses the history as told by Fidel's fans. I'm not sure it is necessary to display the blood soaked clothes worn by various "Heroes of the Revolution" as they died. A swift reviving coffee in the art-deco Bacardi Tower, and we were ready to tackle the Capitolio - a smaller scale version of the Capitol in Washington. Having witnessed the massive mahogany doors and mahogany table seating 24 comfortably, it is not surprising that there's not much local mahogany left.

We returned to Cienfuegos relieved to find Do It still afloat - this was the first time we had left her for more than a night since we left the UK. Time to escape from life in the marina and head down to the white sand anchorages promised in Cayo Largo. Well, once again, we have found it is "no permiso" to anchor in places recommended by our guide book. Rather than anchor off a nearby beach, the local authorities insist that we anchor within site of their marina (or better still, tied to their marina).

Cayo Largo is a larger version of the earlier cayos we visited - a low island covered with mangroves and scrub, but in place of the iguanas and tree rats, there are thousands of tourists ensconced in their all inclusive holiday resorts. This is not the Cuba we know from the earlier part of our visit, and as the Cuban economy places an increased dependence upon tourism, we can only hope that this type of resort tourism doesn't spread too far.

From here, we are heading down to Grand Cayman, where we desperately hope to be able to post this update and reply to your emails. Internet access is still limited in Cuba - you can read what is on screen, but you can't down load it, and you certainly can't insert your USB key into their PCs.

So what has been the biggest surprise in Cuba? The tiny numbers of cruising yachts encountered. In almost 6 weeks, we have only encountered eight other cruising yachts. I'm not sure why there are so few other yachts here, but we shall certainly be returning here one day.

Videos

For those of you with Broadband internet, this month's video is here