April 18
PLC to Cieneguita, Chimana Grande
After a month of "we're leaving in two weeks" followed
by several weeks of "we're leaving in one week,"
we finally bid farewell to Puerto La Cruz (PLC) and friends
at Bahia Redonda Marina on Friday, April 18th. When she arrived
in PLC last July, Caribbean Soul was looking her age.
After much work, she sails off no longer a homely stepsister
but Cinderella dressed for the ball. The bow wake reflects
in her shiny new paint job while fresh varnish glistens on
all the exterior brightwork. Inside, new upholstery covers
the salon settees; the frumpy, mildewed curtains have been
replaced; and there's new teak carpentry and fresh varnish.
The dinghy, sporting green canvas chaps, hangs from new davits
with a six-to-one Harken lifting system. In the anchor locker,
225' of new anchor chain is ready to deploy in those deep
anchorages we previously avoided. The fuel tanks have been
cleaned and filled with cheap Venezuelan diesel. Numerous
other repair and maintenance tasks have been marked off the
project list. We're ready to be cruisers again!
April 19
Playa Caldera, Tortuga
We spend our first night out of the marina anchored with
Rainbow Rider and Nereia at Cieneguita in nearby
Chimana Grande. At first light on Saturday, we weigh anchor
and motor northwest toward the Venezuelan island of Tortuga.
Unfortunately, Nereia experiences engine problems and
must return to PLC. By mid-morning the wind has picked up
enough to turn off the engine and we glide along under all
four sails on a glorious beam reach. This is a day when you
apply the sunscreen all over.
By all reports, fish will practically jump on your boat in
this area, so Nick has two lines trolling behind the boat,
as does Rainbow Rider. Much to our surprise and dismay,
neither boat gets a single bite all day.
By 3:30 P.M. we're dropping the hook off Playa Caldera on
the northeast side of Tortuga. If I didn't know better, I
would swear we'd sailed back to the Bahamas. The island is
flat and low-lying; the water, dazzling shades of turquoise;
and the crescent-shaped beach, powdery white sand. Breathtaking!
Jim and Norma on MiLady invite the four newcomers
for dinner: chili and homemade bread. Yum!
April 20
Around midday, three young men serving the Guardia Costa
make the rounds in the anchorage to check paperwork. They're
friendly and one of them speaks English. We ask if they would
like something to drink, water or cerveza. They choose
the latter. We would never offer the US Coast Guard beer for
fear of offending them, but here drinking a beer on duty isn't
frowned upon. Besides, it's generally safer to drink beer
than water.
After their visit, we take Dakota and head for the beach.
A short walk past the airfield leads to a shallow lagoon of
bathwater-clear water behind the reef. Gary and Linda on Rainbow
Rider join us and, with Dakota tucked under Nick's arm,
we wade across the lagoon to a small island on the other side.
Back at the boat, all three crew get freshwater baths.
April 21
Los Palanquinos, Tortuga
We motor-sail seven miles west to the Los Palanquinos anchorage.
All three boats troll fishing lures, but once again we come
up empty. Eyeballing our way in behind the Palanquinos reef,
we drop the hook in a sandy bottom. Later, we snorkel the
reef but are disappointed to find it bleached and mostly dead.
Sadly, the worldwide phenomenon of coral bleaching is evident
here. Gary and Nick go hunting on the reef, where Gary snags
a huge lobster with his spear gun. Nick uses his pole spear
for the first time, but it just bounces off several snappers.
I guess he needs a little more practice.
April 22
Cayo Herradura, Tortuga
It's just a short hop from Los Palanquinos to the popular
Herradura anchorage. After setting the hook in 12 feet of
water, we admire yet another drop-dead gorgeous backdrop for
the pretty sailboats tucked behind a shimmering white beach.
That evening, we serve up Painkillers to a full cockpit of
friends. While we're socializing, some fisherman come by and
ask for cigarettes. They don't have any fish to trade but
promise to bring us a dorado tomorrow. Someone suggests that
the local fisherman are good for their word, so we go ahead
and hand them a pack in hopes of eating fish tomorrow night.
April 23
We're already sitting in our cockpit sipping hot cups of
Ricore when the sun makes its morning debut. After breakfast,
I use the free fresh water provided by the morning dew to
swab the deck while Nick cleans the dinghy. Then we jump off
the boat for a refreshing swim, and it's only 9:00 A.M. Later,
we take Dakota to shore and walk the beach. Nick picks up
some nice shells while I enjoy a refreshing soak. Back at
the boat, we watch the fishing fleet come in, but no dorado
is delivered to us. Once again, our attempts to procure a
fish dinner have fallen short. I guess the gringo suckers
will be eating chicken for dinner tonight.
April 24
After getting a weather update from Chris Parker, our three-boat
flotilla agrees that tonight is the best opportunity to make
the 85-mile passage to Los Roques. I spend the morning in
the galley preparing enough food so I won't have to cook for
a few days. Nick prepares the boat on deck and checks all
systems. By mid-afternoon, we lie down and attempt to catch
a few hours of sleep. At 10:00 P.M. we motor out of the anchorage
under a cloudy sky with only a light breeze blowing. Tomorrow
we'll finally fulfill a long-held dream of visiting the western
Venezuelan islands of the Roques and Aves. But what we really
want to know is if we'll finally catch any fish!
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View from the "front porch" at Los Palanquinos
Waves break on the reef at Los Palanquinos. Sadly, the reef
is mostly dead.
Gary and Deanna standing in the lagoon at Playa Caldera.
(The water is so clear it's barely visible in this picture.)
Anchored at Cayo Herradura
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