April 25 - 27
Buchiyaco
At first light, the fishing lines are out on all three boats
in hopes of a change of luck. We've been motorsailing all
night long from Tortuga to Los Roques in the company of Rainbow
Rider and MiLady. But as we approach the south
cut at Sebastapol, all lines are retrieved with empty hooks.
The guys are humbled. We've never heard of anyone not catching
fish in this region.
As we enter the cut, the sun makes a brief but welcome appearance
from behind the clouds. Good light is needed to see the rocks
to our left and the reef to our right. I station myself on
the hard top (roof over our cockpit) for a better view. By
1:00 P.M. we set the hook behind the mangrove island called
Buchiyaco.
The Los Roques marine park is an archipelago of low-lying,
reef-fringed islands. Sailors must carefully navigate the
multi-hued water, which ranges from shades of dark blue (deep)
to pale green (shallow). Brown areas with breaking waves indicate
a reef that could sink your boat. The area is breathtakingly
beautiful, like the Tobago Cays on steroids. Spear fishing
and conch collection are prohibited here, but hand-line fishing
is permitted. During our stay at Buchiyaco, we observe a megayacht
dispatch two dinghies, which they fill with conch. After several
hours, they bring their illegal harvest back to the yacht
before weighing anchor and returning to the mainland.
April 28 - 29
Boca del Medio
On Monday, we make our way north, winding our way through
numerous coral patches to anchor behind a small sand island.
As usual, fishing lines are trolled to no avail. The wind
has been howling at 20-30 knots for several days, and this
location offers protection from the swell but not the wind.
Fortunately the deep sand provides good anchor holding. There
are a few nice coral heads and some pretty fish to see on
a nearby reef. Conditions are too rough to investigate the
outer reef.
April 30
Francisquis
After some amount of meandering in hopes of finding shelter
from the wind, we decide to spend the night at the popular
Francisquis anchorage. We assume the crowds will be small
since it's midweek, but we fail to realize that May 1st begins
a long holiday weekend. These Venezuelans seem to have a major
holiday every month! Despite the influx of power boats throughout
the day, we enjoy sitting in a sheltered anchorage for a change.
We find the best snorkeling so far in a blue pool between
the outer and inner reef.
May 1
Gran Roque
Gran Roque is the only settled island in the archipelago
with grocery stores, restaurants, Internet, and, most importantly,
trash bins. We arrive to find the narrow anchoring shelf full
of boats, and it takes us two attempts to get a good anchor
set. However, luck is with us since the fuel boat and new
produce have just arrived. While I store the fresh produce
in the galley, Nick is on deck refilling our diesel tanks
from jerry cans. Suddenly, loud swearing precedes a big splash.
I rush on deck to find Nick in the water holding the Baha
fuel filter over his head. It seems the expensive fuel filter
slipped out of his hands after he untied it from the lifeline.
The filter is rescued, but the captain is covered in diesel
and none too happy about it.
I'm looking forward to eating a meal out for a change, so
we inquire about lunch at a nice beachside restaurant. The
cost for two lunches is about $60 US, an outrageous price
for Venezuela. Instead, we grab some empanadas at the bakery.
At the dive shop, we're shocked to find the prices are more
expensive than the Eastern Caribbean. This place is obviously
priced for foreign tourists and rich Venezuelans, not tight-wad
sailors on a budget. However, since today marks our two-year
cruising anniversary, we do crack open our cruiser wallet
(a Ziploc bag) and splurge on a couple of frothy pina coladas,
which we enjoy as we watch the sun set from the beach.
Before leaving Puerto La Cruz, we had heard that yachts were
being harassed by the Venezuelan coast guard in the western
islands of Sotavento in the Aves. Today we receive another
bad report about Sotavento from an American boat that was
just there. We're quite disappointed to hear of this trouble
since we've long looked forward to visiting these remote islands.
May 2 - 3
Noronsquis
It's Friday and the holiday weekend is in full swing. In
hopes of avoiding the worst of the crowds, we relocate to
Noronsquis. In the afternoon, we dinghy outside the reef where
the cruising guide reports good snorkeling. Although the surge
here is a bit bothersome, the sound of fish chomping on the
living coral is almost deafening. Huge schools of blue tangs
swim by and there's a nice variety of fish. A large barracuda
takes an unnerving interest in us, circling us closer and
closer while giving us an evil look. Nick and I huddle close
trying to look like a big, scary sea creature with two heads
and eight legs.
After the snorkel, Nick heads back out in the dinghy with
a hand line to try and hook some of the Spanish mackerel he
saw on the inside reef. Once again, he returns with an empty
hook. Determined to get a seafood dinner one way or the other,
Nick grabs two packs of cigarettes and dinghies over to a
fishing trawler in the next bay. "Cambio, pescado,
cigarros," Nick calls out as he approaches the anchored
boat. A Venezuelan man emerges from the boat and, in perfect
English, grumbles, "What do you want?" The fisherman
indicates that he already has plenty of cigarettes and only
a few tired-looking snapper anyway. No fish dinner tonight.
On Saturday morning, Jim and Nick try hand-line fishing again.
The results: one lure lost and no fish. In the afternoon,
while I clean the floors and carpets, Nick cleans the bottom
and replaces the prop zinc. That night, our three boats get
together and enjoy fried fish complements of Dennis on Audrey
Paige. Dennis always catches fish everywhere he goes,
and he had given Jim and Norma a couple of his excess filets
when we were in Gran Roque.
May 4 - 5
Crasqui
The wind is starting to pick up and squalls are forecast
early in the week, so on Sunday afternoon we relocate to the
well-protected anchorage at Crasqui. Over the weekend, we
could see this place through the binoculars and it looked
like the Miami boat show with large sport fishing and motor
yachts filling the anchorage. By the time we arrive, the crowd
is mostly gone and we have no trouble finding a spot.
As we're setting our anchor, a dinghy with a man and three
kids zips around us trolling a hand line. As we watch in amazement,
they pull up three or four nice-sized fish. Once the anchor
is set, Nick and Gary jump in the dink and troll a hand line
through the schooling fish. Nick returns an hour later, empty-handed
once again. "Hey, maybe those kids will trade you a fish
for the cigarettes," I suggest sarcastically. About that
time, a mackerel leaps four feet out of the water right by
our cockpit. "Now that's just rude!" I complain
to Nick and head back to the galley to brown some ground beef
for dinner.
On Monday, we have a nice snorkel on a living reef by the
south cut. Huge parrotfish dart among the coral heads amidst
thick schools of silver bait fish. On the return trip, I spit
on the lure and troll the handline myself, but once again
we're skunked. Looks like leftovers for dinner.
May 6
Sarqui
On Tuesday, we make a short but rolly trip to the small anchorage
at Sarqui. Nick gets a hit and we hold our breath as he pulls
it in, but it's just a three-foot barracuda. Some people eat
barracuda, but we always throw back large reef predators due
to their higher risk for ciguatera poisoning. We've heard
this isn't a problem in Venezuela, but we'd rather be safe
than sorry. Gary on Rainbow Rider has better luck and
finally breaks the fishing jinx by hooking a nice Spanish
mackerel. That evening, he and Linda generously fry up fish
fingers and share them with the rest of us.
May 7 - 12
Isla Carenero
"You folks on the Venezuelan coast and the ABCs had
better hold on to your hats!" That's the word from weather
guru Chris Parker on the morning SSB net. He predicts wind
gusting up to 30 knots by Friday, and we're already seeing
20 knots. The Carenero anchorage looks to have the protection
from wind and waves we'll need to ride this out, so we weigh
anchor on Wednesday and continue our trek west. It's a rolly,
butt-puckering entry through a cut in the reef with the wind
and waves on our beam, but once inside we find shelter in
a pristine, turquoise lagoon. A mangrove island with a small
white beach shields us from the howling wind, and just behind
us is a reef and miles of gorgeous blue and green water extending
into the horizon. It's breathtaking and certainly one of the
prettiest spots we've found in our cruise.
Thursday is Nick's 49th birthday so, of course, he begins
the day with boat chores. After changing the watermaker prefilter,
he starts it up and nothing happens. After some fiddling,
he gets it going again. Whew! Later, he goes snorkeling with
Gary and Linda while I bake his birthday cake. That evening,
we have a dinner party for Nick on board Caribbean Soul.
The single candle on his chocolate fudge cake declares "Over
the Hill and Too Old to Count." Actually, I think my
lean and tan captain looks better than ever!
We end up spending six nights at Carenero waiting for the
wind to moderate below 20 knots. The guys continue their fishing
efforts to no avail. Unfortunately the best snorkeling is
on the outer edge of the reef where the waves are breaking.
One afternoon during a slight lull, we fight the surge and
find a fairly healthy reef and lots of huge parrotfish.
May 13 - 15
Dos Mosquisos
On Tuesday, we finally give up on waiting for the wind to
moderate and depart Carenero in 25 knots and short, choppy
whitecaps. Arriving at Dos Mosquisos, we must cross a field
of coral heads. Although the water depth never dips below
9.5 feet, we're a bit nervous because all it takes is one
over-achiever rising above the group to ruin your day. On
shore, we tour the turtle farm where several breeds of turtles
are raised and kept for one year prior to release. This island
is also an archaeological site where artifacts dating several
thousand years ago have been found.
On Wednesday, we tie the dink up to a dive mooring on the
south side of the island and find to our surprise the healthiest
coral we've seen yet in Venezuela. Nick returns to the same
area the following day with his fishing line and (YEAH!) brings
home a grouper and a mackerel. That afternoon, Paul and Karin
arrive in Dreamweaver, their Krogen trawler. Large
motor yachts enjoy many luxuries unavailable to blowboaters
like us. Paul, an avid fisherman, keeps a smoker on their
spacious upper-aft deck. That evening, Dreamweaver
hosts a potluck and smokes Nick's mackerel for the main course.
Yum!
May 16
Cayo de Agua
We've been in Los Roques for three weeks and feel that it
is time to move to the next island group, Barlovento in the
Aves. We want to make the trip before the wind increases to
over 20 knots in a few days, so on Friday we leave our companions
behind and relocate to the western-most island in the Roques,
Cayo de Agua. The entry requires the usual eyeball navigation
between reefs on the left and reefs on the right. However,
we are bit surprised to find ourselves surfing on a 3-foot
swell in just 15 feet of water. In the afternoon, we try unsuccessfully
to the find the reported "excellent" snorkeling
in the area. The highlight of our expedition is a nurse shark
(generally not considered dangerous) laying in the sand. I
dive down and hover a respectable distance over it. Then Nick
dives down and touches its tail, sending the shark streaking
away in a flurry of sand. After snorkeling, we return to the
boat and spend the rest of the day preparing for tomorrow's
36-mile passage to islands of birds, Islas de Aves.
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DOS Mosquisos with Caribbean Soul
in the background
Wreck on the reef, a grim reminder to navigate carefully
Boca del Medio area
Venezuelans on holiday
Mutinous crew
Men playing bottle caps on a sandy street in Gran Roque
Dive shop at Gran Roque
Plane arrives at Gran Roque
At Gran Roque, celebrating two years of cruising
Birds of a feather
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