June 2008 log 22
We had crossed from Grenada with three other boats. Two of the boats Vagabond and Gladys were headed to Puerto la Cruz to sit out the hurricane season. Joint Venture and Seacycle were both headed to Medregal to haul out and store on the hard with both crews returning home to Canada, us for the summer and Joint Venture for year. Joint Venture had left the year before us from Pickering and had sailed down the St. Lawrence over to the Azores and Portugal and then down to the Canaries before hanging a left and turning towards the Caribbean. We met them in Bequia and mentioned we were heading for Medregal which was also their end stop so they were one of the boats we agreed to meet in Grenada to do the crossing with. Hopefully they will get their logs up to date and posted since they have quite the story to tell about especially some real trials with mechanical and rigging failures they had to deal with at sea. In Portugal the first boat they ran into was another Alberg yawl, Inia, with the Williams from Guelph who were dealing with motor issues. After a week in Porlamar, we figured we had about seen all we were going to with the time we had. The anchorage could be uncomfortable at times being swept by the swell that made its way around the southeast corner of the island rolling the boats beam to beam. Throw into the mix a lot of careless traffic with the fishing boats with their high curved bows obscuring their line of sight zooming out from the beach and coming very close to the anchored cruising boats. A couple of times after dark we were approached by fishing pirogue and keeping our flare gun loaded and we would let approach just to find out they were selling diesel which is against the local law. The vendor had just been released from prison for trading in daylight so now he was doing it under the cover of darkness trying to avoid the authorities. Never the less being approached by a strange boat with a couple of guys in it is unnerving especially since there had been boarding’s and beatings in this harbour during the previous winter months.

Well Ken being a tad iconoclastic in his way of thinking acted as the catalyst of some rather unusual cockpit discussions with a breadth of subjects ranging from the twin tower conspiracy theory, the imminent collapse of the financial system due to the lack of the gold standard combined with the senseless escalation of printing American paper money, the climate debate (human driven or natural occurrence) and in general, American hegemony through corporate domination. All were fair game. This can be a great way to waste away an afternoon, but discussions like this have a tendency to raise the temperature. After one of these lively afternoon discussions amongst the male components of the various boats crews Ken decided he had reached his best before date and was going to leave the next morning. Well that was great but short notice since Deb and I had been a little lax in provisioning thinking we still had a few days so we had to tell him we couldn’t leave with them but would be along in a few days. We had planned to stop as buddy boats on the way first at island of Coche and then Laguna Grande breaking the trip into manageable hops. He decided that he would do the whole trip in one hop and avoid any concerns about anchoring out alone. Well we said we would see him at Madregal
and I went to bed. The next morning I heard voices in the cockpit and went out to discover Ken hanging on to our rail and explaining how when starting his engine to leave at 5am the prop shaft had exploded at the coupling. I ended up going over to help and diving on the hull I pushed the shaft back into place. I then tied two lines one on either side and passed them up to him and he ran them through a block and back to his winches tightening the shaft into place. The boat was now ready to sail. Ken and Anita then took off and went to check out a boat yard at Chacachcare on the southwest end of the island for a haul out and Deb and I went to get the provisions so we could all leave together in the morning and we would accompany him to the yard. We would then go on from there. The other two boats were headed for Puerto la Cruz, a one day passage but both of them but had a hankering to see Laguna Grande. They said they would come with us to see Joint Venture safely into the haul out and then we would all head over to Cubagua for a night and then down to the Golfo and Laguna Grande for a few days. From there they had a short hop
to Puerto la Cruz and we had a few hours to Medregal. We lifted the anchors at six the next morning and had a pleasant sail passing between Coche and the southern shore of Margarita arriving at Charcacarre around noon. There they lowered the dinghy and tied it to the side at amidships with Anita in the dinghy using the outboard to propel them and Ken steering the big boat from the wheel. They put into the haul out slip and we waved good bye and set off towards Cubagua arriving around 300pm. The moment we dropped the anchor we were approached by a boat load of six men who through sign language and broken Spanish motioned us to go to shore to the Guardia office. I figured it was just another money grab and told them that my papers were in order and I was just overniting before going to Cumana. Thing was the other two boats had checked out of Porlamar at the Guardia since that was what both the agent and Guardia had told them. I figured it was another money grab and hadn’t bothered now I wondered if I was going to get nailed for some local arcane charge. Another boat flying the Dutch flag called Orion came in and we talked to him. He said he had been here many times and this was a first anybody had asked him to come to shore to sign in so I ignored the whole thing. A couple hours later the coast guard did come out and did insist. Again I begged off saying manana and that seemed to appease them. The next morning I pulled the hook and we left at sunrise. Cubagua
is barren piece of real-estate not much to look at from the water but it has an important place in history. For a few years the Spanish were pulling money out of here that rivalled any of their other new world colonies. The treasure was pearls and in getting them out they decimated first the local indigenous Indians and then they started using captured Arawaks from up the island chain. The divers were forced to hold rocks weighing up to seventy pounds as weights to reach the beds. Most died after a couple of months. Eventually they depleted the beds and then nature finished things with an earthquake finishing the operation. Now a few lonely fishing huts occupy the island along with a research station. We suspect in hindsight that the research station might have something to do with restarting the pearl beds and maybe that was why they wanted us to come ashore just for the record. In any case we left at first light and sailed to the western end of the island and headed down to the Araya Peninsula.
To be continued....