Vacationing in the Out Islands of Venezuela

I can’t remember the last time Mark and I had a vacation. Seriously! I know it sounds weird hearing a statement like that from somebody who lives full time on a sailboat in the tropics, but that somebody is relatively young, needs to make money to survive and happens to run a business with her husband as well. For the last three years, we never took more than two days off and most of the time, that was used to reach other islands or because we happened to be in a place without internet. Even our trips “home” were busy and intertwined with work.

This time, at the end of October, we left Grenada and civilization behind for over two weeks, a personal record for both of us. It meant time for the boat, for each other, for sailing and for exploration. It also meant no internet connection, which in turn meant giving the business a break and throwing stress and frustration overboard. We found ourselves filling the days with the occasional chore (a lot of cooking and dishes), a project here or there (sewing, cleaning, fixing some boat issues lower on the list), a lot of relaxing and staring at the beautiful surroundings from our cockpit, snorkeling the reefs, walking powdery beaches and barren land, a lot of reading for Mark (he finished four books!) and some writing for me (I can’t resist).

Soon enough the realization sank in that this is what most cruisers do every day and that this is more how the boat life should be! How we would wish it could last forever. But, the real life continues and in there we really do need groceries, a washing machine and internet… Before reaching all that in Bonaire again, we stopped at the islands of La Blanquilla, Los Roques, and Los Aves, a safe distance away from Isla Margarita (robberies) and mainland Venezuela (pirate attacks).

La Blanquilla

This flat island offers relatively rolly anchorages and the best way to deal with those – other than rigging a bridle – is to go ashore. We rowed our dilapidated dinghy to the beach and took off exploring, not sure what to expect. Along the way we stopped by two other cruising boats, offering them our freshly caught barracuda (we had too much fish with the massive king fish we had caught later), but they both declined (!) and we – unfortunately – had to toss the fish to the birds. Mark and I decided to follow the sandy and rocky coastline in order to find Americano Bay, written up to be a nice place. After half a mile or so, we were forced inland, with only low brush and cacti around. Then we discovered a multitude of tiny trails through the inhospitable area: donkey trails! We followed some in the general direction of where we wanted to go and enjoyed being explorers, dodging prickly things and being hissed at by wild donkeys.

After a while in the beating sun, we found our bay and stumbled upon a hole in the rocks first. Underneath were a cave and the deep blue ocean. Reaching the pretty bay with sandy shores from here proved a bit tricky and I got stabbed by many a sharp cactus. Pulling out the thorns was no easy feat. The reward was a shady area underneath the rocks, from where we could gaze at the blue water and a natural arch and where we went for a refreshing swim and choppy snorkel. The walk back was very hot, but quick now that we had figured out the maze of narrow trails. During the afternoon, back on Irie, the coast guard swung by all the boats present, to collect goodies for offering their services as friendly keepers of safety…

Los Roques

Los Roques covers a pretty big area with different islands surrounded by sandy beaches, reefs and mangrove trees. The first two places we stopped didn’t impress us. Francisquis was busy with Venezuelan tourists, speeding pirogues, anchored yachts and passing planes and Isla Carenero housed dense forests of mangroves that came with uncountable attacking mosquitoes. The water wasn’t very attractive to swim or snorkel in. When we moved to Sarqui, beauty and relaxation greeted us: shallow, clear water, interesting reef patches to snorkel and a couple of islands to walk the shoreline.

The highlight was Cayo de Agua. Anchoring proved a bit tricky, because the chart in our guidebook was not very obvious (oh, did I mention that all our electronic charts were off, so we really could only trust our eyes?), but we succeeded in dodging all the reefs and weedy areas to find a shallow sandy spot to anchor, clear of all underwater obstacles. “Eye ball” or “reef navigation” this is called. Good light (sun behind or above you) is required! A walk to the pretty lighthouse revealed a few amazing beaches with a narrow spit of sand connecting the island with West Cay. Turquoise water beckoned on both sides; where to jump in and cool off? Even here, tourists get dropped off every day from El Gran Roque, so we were glad to have done our explorations in the morning. Around noon that day, the coast guard of Los Roques entered our boat for a “safety inspection”, involving a lot of paperwork and a bribe of hard cash to “replace” our unpaid national park fees. Rum and coke did not work here, but they took them as a bonus anyway.

Los Aves

This group of islands consists of two groups of islands with ten miles of open water in between: Aves de Borlavento and Aves de Sotavento. We stopped at the first set for two nights of peace. No beaches in the bay we picked to anchor, but a lot of birds and tall trees ashore. A walk brought us through some thick brush and past a site full of homemade signs, created by other visitors over the years. The last days of our vacation were spent in Aves the Sotavento, where we anchored off Isla Palmeras for a few nights. The scenery was beautiful, rowing to shore against wind and current provided some needed exercise and the snorkeling on the south side of Isla Ramon was great. We hoped to meet some fishermen to trade cigarettes and rum for lobster, but … no such luck. When the wind picked up some and the area became uncomfortable at anchor, we sailed the 45 miles to Bonaire, which concluded our vacation.

Americano Bay, La Blanquilla

 Natural Arch, La Blanquilla

Cayo de Agua, Los Roques

Dinghy landing in the mangroves, Aves de Borlavento

 Isla Palmeras anchorage, Aves de Sotavento

Great snorkeling in Aves de Sotavento

A New Chapter

Mark and I had been talking about it for a little while, but now we are actually doing it! After three years of sailing up and down “the island chain”, spending months at the time at each “end” and focusing on work, projects and errands, we have broken the routine and opted for something new and different. We left the popular and easy Eastern Caribbean. Oh, to be traveling again… and to be sailing without knowing what to expect. Doing longer trips, including night sails. It sure is a whole other world and concept and we did leave comforts and friends behind, but we are both ready for new territories, adventures and priorities. And, with every move comes a new experience…

October 27^th, 2011 (happy birthday, dad) was the day we left our beloved Grenada behind. From the moment we lifted anchor at 5am, the clouds emptied themselves and we got drenched in a massive squall. Just like when I said farewell to my best friend Rosie the day before, Mother Nature didn’t seem quite happy to see us go. For hours we were surrounded by massive clouds and the sun came up with a few more downpours. Mark and I estimated an average speed of 5 knots when planning our first trip, but, not being used to downwind sailing and expecting a bit too much from our little cat – of which only the jib was useful (wish we managed to find a used spinnaker, but all our attempts failed) – we only did about 4 knots the first 24 hours.

The seas were calm and we both managed to do our night watches, but the following morning, the engines had to come on. We were adamant to make our first stop before nightfall on day two. Unfortunately that meant running the engines for 8 hours. We learned our lesson, so we thought. The last two hours before arrival, the wind picked up and we had a wonderful and quite sail towards flat Blanquilla. Our speed picked up as well, we hooked a small barracuda, passed a drop-off, and … caught a big one next! A heavy and meaty creature – we think it was a king fish – turned into 7 wonderful fish meals! This way, our stocked up meat (luckily frozen) lasted forever…

The anchorage at Blanquilla was pretty rolly, but we both enjoyed a great day of exploration ashore and some rest during the afternoon. A visit from the Coast Guard ended our first full day in the out islands of Venezuela. The wind was predicted to die even more over the next days, so we decided to head to Los Roques sooner than later. This time, we counted on an average speed of 4 knots. The first day out, we barely did 3 knots, because the wind was dead behind us at a velocity of less than 10 knots! With our small jib, we barely moved. Irie did manage to catch a fish trap and I had to dive into the ocean to cut the tangled line loose from the prop. Other than that, the trip was very relaxing and the seas almost flat to say the least, but … we had 120 miles to go and hoped to reach reef strewn land before 4pm (when the sun is still high enough for optimal visibility) on the second day out. The way this was going, we were looking at a whole day of motoring again.

Then, at night, we lucked out with northeast winds. We pulled our mainsail up and managed to sail all night on a broad reach, doing 4.5 knots in about 10-12 knots of wind. It was a happy ride, with clear skies and millions of bright stars. More traffic in this area as well, but all the ships were lit. We caught up some of the “lost” distance and reached Los Roques under sail (during the day back to only jib and slow speeds), apart from the last hour. Now we were ready for a few days of fun and relaxation in these beautiful and out-of-the-way cruising grounds!

Pretty big fish caught at the drop-off to Blanquilla. King fish?

One of the many meals we made with the fresh fish: steak with spinach and plantains

Not long after leaving Blanquilla for the 120 miles to Los Roques, we caught a fish trap. I "went in" to cut the line off the propeller.

View of El Gran Roque from our first anchorage in Los Roques.

Slow sail through Los Roques to explore different islands.

Ready to Go, but…

On Friday, October 22^nd, Mark and I finished the last errands before we could really and permanently leave Grenada. The outboard engine was fixed and essential parts (which the Yamaha store here ordered in the States and we had to wait for) replaced, the dinghy had its “last” hole patched, the house was clean, the fridge full of fresh food and all the dirty laundry done! We were ready to go, physically and mentally, but… the weather did not cooperate. The forecast for the coming week predicted no wind!

So, we “sat back”, relaxed and enjoyed … mmm… waiting around. Soon enough, we started emptying the fridge again, making the boat dirty, wearing clothes, using the acquired diesel and gas and getting into new “projects”, namely dealing with our dinghy and portable generator issues. The good news: we can spend a bit more quality time with our friends. The bad news: I am already starting to miss the things and people we will leave behind! Should we spend another season in the Eastern Caribbean? Nope… we are going for it, wind behind us, following seas and exploring new horizons. Soon!

 

Windguru forecast

Fixing outboard problems

Enjoying a great night out with our friends Sim and Rosie

Motoring around the corner from Prickly Bay to Morne Rouge Bay with SV Alianna

Sunset from Morne Rouge Bay. Soon, we'll be heading that way!

The Emergency Hatch Battle

Since Mark and I own our boat, the two emergency hatches – which are located inches above the waterline – have been leaking. We’ve tried to find and fix the leaks many times in many ways and re-bedded both of them during our first year of cruising. Since then, we replaced the gaskets, tightened bolts, added silicone and so on. Every time we went sailing in the past, Mark walked downstairs to check the starboard hatch, found salt water protruding and lined the bottom of the window with a “shammy” to soak it up. Where the water came from was a mystery and nothing seemed to fix it. 

On our recent sailing trip from Carriacou back to Grenada, Mark watched the rush of the seawater against the emergency hatch for about an hour and – after not only finding water along the edge inside, but actually seeing water all the way in our bilge – he detected the problem. We would have to re-bed this hatch again, a job deemed to only be possible when hauled out of the water. Didn’t we just haul out about a month ago for the umptiest time? Nope, we were not going through that effort and expense again! We were going attempt to fix it while in the water…

We only had one small tube of caulk (4200), so we made a brief stop in St. David’s Harbour and rowed ashore (our outboard engine also has problems) to buy another one, the last and only one they had, at the small Island Water World branch there. Then we continued on to Port Egmont, one of Grenada’s excellent hurricane holes. We found flat water and peace before starting our big project the following morning. I won’t go into much detail, but … a project it was: hard, time consuming and a tad stressful. To top it off, the 4200 we just bought was bad! Luckily the one we had left was good and enough for the job. We took the whole window and frame out, put a “guard” in place to keep salt water out in case the wind picked up or a boat drove by and cleaned all the old caulk off everywhere, before putting the frame and window back. Mark sat inside Irie, with his head through the opening most of the time; I was hovered underneath our low bridge deck in our deflated dinghy (to make it fit – great idea!), taking in water with every wind wave. 

When Mark passed the caulked frame through, it had to go in the water to be able to attach it to the boat. Bad choice of orientation. We thought it wouldn’t matter for the 4200 and finished the project, pumped up the dinghy and cleaned everything up. Later research taught us that the surfaces can NOT be wet when applying 4200 and we had just dunked the whole thing in seawater! Now what? We were dead tired after six hours of hard work and… we were out of caulk!! Quick action took place; we rowed to shore, hitched a ride to the main road, took a bus to St. George’s and bought more caulk at the marine store before it closed. We returned to Irie at 5pm and … did the whole job again, at night this time! Mission accomplished in two tries (as frequently) and about 12 hours, right before stormy weather arrived. The good news: we are happy with our work and commitment and the hatch doesn’t leak anymore!

Mark makes a "guard" which covers half of the hole, while underway from Carriacou to Grenada...

 Cleaning the old caulk off everything, even all the bolts, nuts and washers.

The guard to keep water from coming into the boat, is in place.

There is not much room to work underneath Irie's bridge deck.

Done! So we thought...

Doing it ALL over again at night! (Removing "new" caulk is much harder than scraping off old caulk)

Putting the frame back in place in between squalls and bumpy water. Tricky and stressful.

Done! Really! (It was 11pm by then)

Where is the Cheapest Fuel in Grenada?

On October 10^th, Irie’s preparations to go west, started with a sailing trip north! Mark and I were anchored in Tyrrel Bay, Carriacou, and had been trying to find out where the cheapest fuel in the area was. Petite Martinique (PM) is said to be the best place and we gave them a call. When we found out that they are overcharging (about EC$2, almost US$1, a gallon), just like Prickly Bay Marina does on the south coast, we came up with an alternative. But, that wasn’t until we unsuccessfully exhausted our efforts in trying to get the folks at PM to lower their prices to what they were supposed to charge by calling them (B&C Fuels Enterprise) and the government’s Consumer Affair Unit. In Grenada, fuel prices are set by the government (http://grenadabroadcast.net/pastshows/finance) and anybody is encouraged to call them about any price discrepancies: “Furthermore, consumers are encouraged to immediately notify the Price Control/Consumer Affairs Unit in the Ministry of Finance of any instance of overpricing at telephone number 440-1369.”

Since we wanted to fill up our 33 gallon diesel tank and store a few extra jerry cans, it was worth going through the effort to find a better price. PM is still the cheapest place to find fuel in Grenada, but we decided to sail to Union Island first, to see whether Joyce was present. This cargo vessel stocks up on diesel in Venezuela and then sells it, legitimately, to anyone swinging by the boat. She usually hangs out in Clifton (or Bequia) when she is not “down south”.  Mark and I wanted to have some sailing fun and tacked upwind to Union in about three hours to arrive right in between two squalls.

Joyce, unfortunately, wasn’t around, but – after lunch break – we managed to obtain about 40 gallons of fuel from a gas station ashore (diesel: EC$ 11.31; gasoline: EC$ 13.77 per US gallon). It took us two dinghy rides to fill Irie up and have spare jerry cans. When we arrived back in Tyrrel Bay, after a slow downwind sail, the sun was about to set. It took us a full day to fulfill our quest, but we are one step closer to leaving on our sailing trip west now!

(Full story see http://xwaters.com/blogs/topic/the-cruising-life-the-art-of-getting-fuel )

One of the squalls passed just north of us once we arrived at the reef entrance of Clifton Harbour.

The blue boat looked like Joyce upon our approach, but wasn't.

We had to go to the fuel dock ashore, and walk to the street, since the diesel pump at the dock was broken.

Each time we put diesel in our tank, we pour it through a Baja filter.

Mark takes care of the second run ashore. Now we are full!