Hola from Venezuela

After a month and a half in Trinidad, I finally completed the last few projects necessary to prepare for departure. The main task was fixing the staysail roller furling, which involved taking the entire inner forestay ashore, replacing the wire, and reinstalling the roller furling system. This completed, I faced the challenge of transporting the 40-foot pole back to the boat. My 8-foot dinghy obviously wouldn’t get the job done. Instead, I enlisted a couple of local fisherman to help me transport the furler. They agreed to take me the roughly 200 yards from the dock to the boat, although they did have to stop on the way to take some shots of rum. Eventually, the inner forestay was reattached and I was ready to go.

The highlight of my final week in Trinidad was watching the Trinidad national soccer team compete in a playoff with the soccer powerhouse that is Bahrain for the right to participate in next year’s World Cup in Germany. The first leg took place on Saturday evening in Trinidad. The atmosphere in the bars was festive with Trini’s singing the national anthem and hanging on every play. I felt like a poser wearing a free T&T soccer t-shirt that I was given at a game I attended earlier in the year, but the natives seemed to appreciate the gesture. The game was an exciting match with plenty of chances that resulted in a 1-1 draw. The second leg in Bahrain was played on Wednesday at lunchtime. Trinidad and Tobago won 1-0 to secure their first ever trip to the World Cup. The game was a dull affair, made interesting only toward the end when both Bahrain fans began showering the field with bottles. During the game, workers stopped working to watch the game and the celebration following the win spread to the streets and lasted late into the night.

While Trini’s normally yell, honk their car horns, and wave things out of their window on a daily basis, they stepped it up a notch for this celebration. Instead of their normal temperance in waiting until 4 pm, the entire country was drunk by 2 pm. Personally, I was hoping for a riot since I have never witnessed a riot in person, but the Trini’s seem to be happy drunks and my participation in a full-blown riot will have to wait for another day. A cynic might point out that no one in Trinidad seemed to care about soccer when Brian and I attended a World Cup qualifier between Trinidad and the U.S. back in February. However, I am happy for the Soca Warriors and wish them luck in Germany.

On Thursday, Trini’s got back to their true national pastime – not working. Thursday was declared a national public holiday on Wednesday night in honor of the historic win. On Thursday, after paying the $40USD extra holiday fee to clear out of customs (if I had known I would be financially punished, I would have rooted for Bahrain), I departed for Venezuela. On top of the ridiculous fact that I had to pay extra for a holiday that was declared three hours before the day started, the buffoons in customs accidentally failed to return my boat documentation, leaving me in the uncomfortable position of trying to talk my way into Venezuela – in a language that I don’t speak and in a country that has little love for Americans.

Originally, I had planned to go in the company of a ketch from Scotland, but they decided to wait another day since they wanted to stock up on alcohol at the duty free shop, which was closed for the public holiday. Since my departure was not dependant on the purchase of booze, I left in the company of two catamarans that were much faster than me, as well as more daring since they chose to head west further south than I. In order to minimize the risk of pirates in the eastern part of Venezuela, I sailed 30 miles north before turning west. My other lame attempts at defending against pirates was hiding my valuables and replacing them with dummies. For example, my laptop was replaced with a crappy computer that doesn’t work and my wallet was full of worthless rupees and expired credit cards.

I started fast out of the gate with 20 knot winds on the beam pushing me along at 8 knots. However, once I turned west and headed downwind, the apparent wind dropped significantly and I was forced to gradually tack my way westward. The sailing itself was enjoyable. The weather was perfect with a full moon and plenty of stars visible. When the sun came up, a pack of about 12 dolphins swam with the boat for an hour. To keep watch, I only slept about 30 minutes the entire night, although there was very little in the way of traffic. After 26 hours, I arrived in Los Testigos (The Witnesses). Instead of a quick meal of ramen before I crashed, I was invited over for dinner by friends that I had met in Trinidad aboard the boat Three Ships.

The next day, I struggled to check in since the Coast Guard officer spoke limited English and I speak hardly any Spanish. Adding to the confusion, my flustered attempts to express basic Spanish phrases usually ended up being basic French or Japanese. Despite seeing my American passport, when leaving they seemed under the impression that I was French and kept saying “merci.” In the afternoon, I went ashore to the white sand beach and hiked up the tallest mountain on the island. The summit offered a great view of the island and the surrounding sea. There are only a couple hundred fisherman and their families that live on Los Testigos, so there is nothing in the way of stores or restaurants. The shacks along the beach are charming, though, and what is probably a difficult lifestyle is easy to idealize for its simplicity.

On Sunday morning, I left Los Testigos at first light and set out for Margarita. Fighting light winds and once again without the use of my jib (a piece of the roller furling needs replacing), I raced to reach Margarita before sunset. The trip was comfortable, aside from constantly checking my progress and projecting my arrival time, and I even managed to catch a fish. Although I cannot identify the fish, it is long (2 feet) and narrow with a sword-like mouth containing a lot of teeth. As usual, the fish didn’t go for my bait, but appeared to be unlucky enough to be swimming by when my hook caught it in the side. Not having much knowledge of how to fillet a fish, I dissected it to make sure it had all its organs (it did), then threw it back in water. This good luck continued when I just barely reached the anchorage of Margarita before sunset. Entering the crowded anchorage, I was greeted by music from the numerous bars on shore.

On first appearance, Margarita looks to be quite developed with many tall buildings between the clear blue water and the rolling inland. Assuming that I can connive my way past customs, I look forward to exploring the island in the coming week.

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