Island Way, Islas Las Aves, Venezuela. 20 November 2000
Dear Everyone,
In ten days’ time we plan to be heading across the Caribbean towards Cuba. Apart from the fact that this newsletter is already overdue, we are facing a possible e-mail ‘black-out’, while we wrestle with the problems of trying to connect to AOL via the Cuban telephone system - so here, before a possible further delay of two or three months, is our news since we left Island Way in Trinidad in early July.
Much of the past four months has been spent away from the boat - six weeks in July/August catching up with relatives and friends in England, Scotland and Colorado, and three weeks from 21 October in the Andean district of Merida, in the west of Venezuela. We had amazing good fortune with the UK weather, including one of the sunniest weeks imaginable in Scotland - reports from home before and since suggest that sunshine was not a principal ingredient during the rest of the summer!
When we returned to Trinidad in August, we spent nearly three weeks doing various jobs while Island Way was still high and dry. We found it difficult to put in a full day’s work with temperature and humidity both at the upper end of the scale, and were very pleased that we’d chosen Coral Cove Marina, whose little swimming pool came to the rescue several times a day. However, with new coats of anti-fouling paint and several other below- and just-above-waterline jobs finished, it was a relief to get back in the water again - especially as we had son Peter arriving on 6 September with Scottish friend Tom (complete with bagpipes!) three days later. Eight fairly lazy days were spent, sailing a little but mostly enjoying the anchorages in Scotland Bay (perfect setting for the pipes!) at the northern end of Trinidad, and Chacachacare, a lovely forested island seven miles to the west, former home to a leper colony/hospital.
We enjoyed Trinidad enormously, and it would have been easy to find excuses to stay longer. However, the coinciding of an oil-spill, an earthquake and (nearly) a hurricane all in the same week persuaded us that it really was time to move on. The oil spill created some very messy problems for the boats directly in its path - fortunately we were not. The earthquake was enough to rattle the tins on the supermarket shelves, but was a fairly minor event and caused no damage. Hurricane Joyce threatened to be a much more significant problem, especially as Trindad prides itself on being outside the hurricane belt and untouched by them for many, many years. It was with some disbelief and a lot of anxiety that we watched the reports of Joyce gathering strength to the east of us, and heading straight for Trinidad. Reactions within the cruising fraternity were mixed: some decided to get their boats out of the water, and all the marinas were kept busy for two days, lifting out boats from dawn till dusk; some headed west for the ‘safety’ of Venezuela (also directly in Joyce’s path, but further away, allowing more time for it to weaken or change course); others decided to leave the marina areas and anchor off the islands nearby. A few, including us, stayed put in the marinas (by then practically empty), with additional lines attached to lessen the effects of the anticipated wind and (potentially more damaging ) waves. We ended up with sixteen lines attached to various points around the boat - though we shall never know what use they would have been if the hurricane had continued on its westerly course. Mercifully, it turned away to the north at the last minute, and weakened considerably, and the only effects in Trinidad were a couple of days of grey skies and some heavy rain. Trinidad maintained its hurricane-free record, and we all breathed a sigh of relief!
A highlight of our stay in Trinidad was an overnight visit to the Asa Wright Nature Centre. The Centre is a former cocoa/coffee plantation, with a lodge which used to be the plantation house, and several cottages with rooms for visitors. It is set in the heart of the Northern Range, with wonderful views across miles of rainforest. Apart from numerous forest trails, the lodge itself has a balcony overlooking lots of bird feeders, and in the early morning huge numbers of birds of different varieties come to feed. Our favourites were the tiny humming birds, some only an arm's length away, drinking with their long tongues from the brown-sugar/water solution in the feeders.
No visit to Trinidad would be complete without the sound of steel band music, and we spent a fascinating evening at one of the pan-yards in Port of Spain, watching the BWIA Invaders and their American conductor rehearsing two classical pieces for October’s World Steel Band Festival. It was truly amazing to hear the full orchestral range of sounds being produced on a collection of oil barrels.
Since leaving Trinidad, we have at last been pointing the boat in the right direction - towards Panama, and with the wind behind us - and we have enjoyed some wonderful sailing along the Venezuelan coast, visiting several of the offshore islands. Our principal objective, however, was to get to Merida where we had a 2-week Spanish course booked. We felt that Cuba without Spanish would be a much less worthwhile experience than if we are able to speak at least some of the language. We left the boat in a marina at Puerto la Cruz, recommended for its high security standards, and took the bus to Merida, 750 km and 17 hours away. Bus travel in Venezuela is very efficient, in fast, comfortable long distance buses, but it has two major drawbacks. The airconditioning freezes the interior down to Arctic temperatures; and the curtains are firmly closed to prevent any risk of a stray sunbeam from entering the bus and warming things up (or spoiling the view of the TV screen with its juddering movie playing to a mainly sleeping audience). So watching the Venezuelan countryside flashing past becomes a furtive thing, best done when the driver’s assistant is not patrolling the aisles looking for wrong-doers. And woe betide anyone who travels unprepared for the cold - Barbara, with her 4-seasons down sleeping bag was fine - John with his fleece jacket was not, until reinforcements were unpacked! Occasional stops for meals and snacks allowed us to thaw out, and it was with some relief that we eventually emerged to find that the early-morning temperature in Merida (1500 metres/5000 feet above sea level) was warmer than the bus.
In Merida we stayed separately with two different Venezuelan families, in order to make ourselves speak Spanish to them and not English to each other. Our respective apartments were in adjacent buildings, so we did manage to get together for the walk to and from school (20 minutes each way, twice a day)!! The Iowa Institute (run by Cathy, an American Professor of Linguistics who is married to a Venezuelan), was superb. We were the only two in our class, and had two hours of tuition in the mornings and two in the afternoons, with plenty of homework thrown in as well. We also spent an afternoon ‘field trip’at the local market finding out the names of the local fruit and vegetables and being introduced to a market speciality called Levanton, an aphrodisiac of doubtful effectiveness, whose ingredients were revealed to include bull’s eyes, fish roe, various fruits, Nestum, milk powder, stout, raw eggs and a few other bits and pieces all whizzed up in an electric blender - surprisingly tasty, but was the upset stomach a direct result? All in all, the course was excellent, and at the end of two weeks star pupil Barbara was chatting fairly fluently in a number of different tenses (not usually the right ones - B), and John was managing to make himself understood to some extent. We both feel that the effort was well worthwhile, and we’re looking forward to conversations with Cubans! Merida, nestling as it does in the foothills of the Andes, was an ideal centre for some very energetic, high altitude walking, and we made the most of the opportunity during our mid-course weekend and in the four days after the course. The city boasts the world’s longest and highest cable-car ride, the third stage of which deposits its passengers at about 4000 metres (over 13000 ft). There is a fourth stage which continues up to a nearby mountain peak at around 5000 metres, but we had a six-hour walk ahead of us from stage 3, so missed out the final section. Our route led us through fantastic mountain scenery with spectacular views across to the surrounding snow-capped peaks and down into the Chama valley beneath us, eventually bringing us to a little village called Los Nevados (reputedly the highest village in the Venezuelan Andes). Legs don’t get much of that sort of exercise on the boat, and it was a relief to be able to stop at a comfortable posada (hotel) with hot showers, good food and panoramic views across the mountains. We were easily persuaded that a 0630 start the next morning, to be sure of catching the last (1400) cable car back to Merida after retracing our steps uphill from Los Nevados, was NOT a good idea. Instead, we went by 4-wheel drive Toyota driven by Angel, whose driving lived up to his name; a very good thing, given the precipitous nature of the road.
Our final four days in Merida were spent relaxing and walking in the mountains a few miles from the city, including a lush green trail through cloud forest where we were adopted for the day by a large Pyrrenean mountain dog - white and brown and dry when we met him; grey and black and sodden but still wagging his tail when he finally left us to go home seven hours later. We also made a visit to the nearby observatory, where our new-found Spanish was tested well beyond its limits by the guided tour of two of the domes housing massive telescopes. Fascinating nevertheless, and after a long wait for the evening clouds to disperse, we were treated to clear views of Saturn, Jupiter, the Moon, Uranus and a binary star through the observatory’s optical telescope which was set to 120x magnification.
Since leaving Puerto la Cruz, on the mainland, we have spent several days in the offshore Venezuelan islands of Tortuga and Las Aves, anchored in still, clear, shallow water only a short distance from the coral reefs protecting us from the pounding sea to the east. Our next stop is the Dutch island of Bonaire, from where we hope to send this, and then, probably, Curacao, before the 5-8 day voyage straight to Cuba. We hope to be there for about two months and the current plan is to sail from there to Cartagena in Colombia before heading for the Panama Canal and the Pacific - but two months is a long time in a cruising calendar, and destinations could easily change, so don’t be surprised if our next newsletter is full of other plans!. It’s quite hard to believe that it is only a month to Christmas and the New Year. For the Cubans, it will be the start of the new Millennium, as Fidel Castro (as ever, alone in the face of world opinion!) decreed that 1 January 2001 will be the appropriate date. So in case we don’t get an opportunity to do so next month, may we wish you all a very happy Christmas and a wonderful second New Millennium!
With love and best wishes from John and Barbara