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Dear Compass Readers,
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Please include your name, boat name or address, 
and a way we can contact you if clarification is required. 
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(Kudos are okay!) We do not publish anonymous letters; 
however, your name may be withheld in print at your request. 

Letters may be edited for length, clarity and fair play.
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sally@caribbeancompass.com
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Compass Publishing Ltd.
Readers' Forum
Box 175BQ
Bequia
St. Vincent & the Grenadines

 
LETTER OF THE MONTH

Dear Compass,

I was awake. Faint reggae music was playing on shore, but not loud enough to wake me up. So, why was I up? It was 1:30AM and I was tempted to roll over and go back to sleep, but while on board I usually poke my head out the hatch and have a look around.

Bonanza, our 40-foot Island Packet, sat calmly in this new anchorage after rolling relentlessly for the two previous nights. Imagine trying to fall asleep while holding on tightly to the bed frame. The swell creeping into the previous anchorage tipped our monohull from side to side in a graduated pattern of increasing intensity. It began with a slow, gentle motion that escalated into a full-blown washing machine experience that then subsided completely for a few seconds before starting all over again. You get the picture. So, since moving to another part of Prince Rupert Bay here in Dominica, Roy and I were very happy to be sleeping.

While I pondered leaving the bed, I heard a different noise mixed in with the music. Sounded like a horn — a bit anemic but distinct. I counted the blows: one, two, three, four, five. Now I was up! Five blasts on a horn are a distress call. Coming up into the cockpit I spotted a sailboat moving slowly behind us. Someone was at the bow and the horn was sounding again. My sleep-addled brain was slowly registering the situation. The only thing I could imagine was that maybe their anchor broke loose.
I called over, “Are you adrift?”
Someone shouted back, “We’ve been robbed. They’ve taken the dinghy, our radio, cell phones, everything. Can you help us?”
Oh my! Not good. “We are launching our dinghy and we will come right over,” I shouted back.
I realized that we’d seen this boat earlier, and had chatted briefly with the British couple on board. While moving Bonanza we’d passed their boat and I had asked if they’d noticed any swell in the night. The skipper said no, he hadn’t, but added that they had just arrived after an overnighter from St. Martin. “Nothing usually bothers us when we are that tired,” he said. I’d wondered why they had decided to drop the hook in that particular spot, close to the Customs dock near the Picard River and somewhat distant from other boats. Maybe they wanted a bit of privacy. Roy and I decided to anchor several hundred yards to the south of them, close to two other sailboats just off the old pier at the Portsmouth Beach Hotel. Our friends on two other cruising boats, Daniell Storey and Voyageur C, also relocated here, so altogether we were five boats in this area.

Roy and I managed to launch our dinghy in record time. We gathered up a handheld VHF radio and a million-candlepower searchlight. Then we headed over to Daniell Storey; Dave has a cell phone we could borrow and his main VHF radio would have much more range than our handheld one. He said he’d stand by on Channel 16 as Roy and I headed over to the boat in distress.
The skipper was standing on deck when we pulled up. He told us that he and his wife had been attacked, beaten and robbed by two men armed with cutlasses and another one bearing a pistol. The three men swam out from the shore and boarded the boat while the skipper was sleeping below and his wife was in the cockpit. The two men with cutlasses held them down while the third ransacked the boat. They demanded money and jewelry. They grabbed all their electronics, cell phones, computers and radios. Then they loaded up the dinghy with the stolen goods and took off.

After firing an orange flare that failed to draw a response, the couple decided to pull up anchor and head for the nearest people. That is how they came to be dropping anchor just off our stern at two in the morning.
I handed the skipper our VHF radio to call the coast guard and climbed on board to see how his wife was doing. Roy went to search along the shoreline to see if he could spot the stolen dinghy.

I stepped down into the most chaotic salon I had ever seen. It looked like the boat had come through a storm. Gear, clothes, kitchenware and papers were strewn across the cabin. Even the trash had been emptied into the mix. The wife seemed a little dazed as she searched through a plastic bin for something. The skipper came in saying no one was answering his VHF call and went to lie down on the settee. It was obvious his back hurt and his wife was looking for some painkillers in their medicine kit. Either he had injured it in the fight with the robbers or by pulling up the anchor, he wasn’t sure which.
Suddenly I heard Dave’s voice on the radio. He had heard the skipper’s radio call, but obviously the coast guard had not. We gave Dave the particulars of the boat and the incident and he was able to relay this information as a PAN PAN call that was picked up by the Martinique Coast Guard at Fort de France. Dave made a general announcement to the anchorage to alert fellow cruisers that there had been trouble.

Having no luck with the radio, it was time to get on the cell phone. I could not find an emergency or police number in the guidebook. Luckily, I recognized Eddison Laville’s name listed in a phone directory for the Leeward Islands. Eddison is the vice president of Portsmouth Association for Yacht Security (PAYS) and an Indian River guide. Roy and I had met him on our way through Dominica a few months earlier. The association sponsors a program that keeps up a dinghy patrol of the main anchorage. Unfortunately, the security patrol does not have a VHF radio, so they did not hear the calls. Eddison picked up on the second ring and quickly pointed us in the right direction. By the time we called police dispatch they already seemed to know about the incident. I repeated that we were out in the anchorage on a boat. They assured me that help was on the way.

As the skipper got up from the settee I noticed that he had something around his neck. He and his wife had been bound and gagged with duct tape and the grey stuff still clung to them. The skipper had rolled the tape down from his mouth, creating a grotesque necklace. Four or five strips of the sticky plastic clung to his wife’s curly hair. Out came the scissors and I took off as much tape and as little hair as I could.
I was relieved to hear the sound of our dinghy approaching; Roy had been gone for what felt like a long time. He returned with company. Two American students studying at the island’s medical school had seen the flare from the attacked vessel and heard the shouts for help. They reported the incident to campus security, who then called the police. The students had lingered on the beach and flagged Roy down as he passed in the dinghy. Turns out these two are second year EMT students — in training to attend medical emergencies. They immediately turned their attention to the battered cruisers.
A few minutes after the students arrived, so did the Dominica Coast Guard. Flashing blue lights lit up the anchorage as they pulled alongside in their 30-foot RIB. I was amazed; it had been less than an hour since my phone call and these guys had come from their base in Roseau, about 15 miles down the coast. The three Coast Guard officers were very concerned and ready to help. One officer came on board and told the British couple that an ambulance was ready to take them to the hospital if they wanted to go. That wouldn’t be necessary, the skipper said; they would make their way to the clinic in the morning.
All eyes grew wide with surprise when one EMT student found a pistol in the cockpit. It looked like a pellet gun masquerading as a handgun. But whether it could fire bullets or not, it looked real enough. The Coast Guard took the gun, asked a few more questions then went to collect the Portsmouth Police officers from the dock. With no access to their own boat, they were waiting for a ride to the yacht so they could begin their investigation. It seemed the situation was well in hand. Roy and I decided to head back to Bonanza.

The next morning we heard that the Coast Guard had recovered the stolen dinghy after they dropped the police officers back on shore. It was a relief to know that the cruisers could get to and from their boat once again. Both were treated at the hospital: the skipper for back injuries and his wife for a possible concussion.
Everyone was stunned at the level of violence used in this robbery. It had been a few years since anything like this had happened in Dominica and the people were shocked and angry, especially those involved in the tourist industry. Response to this incident has gone beyond law enforcement agencies and local community groups. The Minister of Tourism and the director of the Discover Dominica Authority personally came out to see how the victims were doing. They assured them that the investigation of the robbery had high priority and was being taken very seriously. The officials even came by to thank me and Roy for helping out.
Now what? It was a shocking experience to witness the aftermath of such a violent robbery. I can’t imagine what it’s like for the victims to try to get over it. They’ve sailed the Caribbean for more than 15 years and never expected anything like this to happen to them. Nobody does.
Yes, I now feel more fearful, but not to the point where I want to stop sailing. I do think that it’s time for us to take a few more basic security precautions on board. Most cruisers lift and lock their dinghy at night. Very few cruisers lock their door at night, but I can tell you that Roy and I have no problem putting in the companionway boards and throwing the lock on the hatch once we are ready to go to sleep.
We’ll also be back next year to visit Dominica, one of our favorite places in the Caribbean. Even if the swell rolls in, we’ll stick to the patrolled anchorage and feel secure knowing that the community and authorities in Portsmouth and throughout Dominica take cruisers’ safety seriously.

Michelle Fleming
Yacht Bonanza

 


READERS' FORUM

 
Dear Compass,
Tom Hankins has no connection to the marine insurance industry, and thus no axe to grind, yet his letter in the March issue of Compass regarding the necessity for yacht insurance is interesting. His illustration of a potential disaster is a little far-fetched, but quite possible. After 45 years in the yacht insurance business, I can offer more illustrations of it being fortunate that owners had insured their yachts when, through no fault of their own, they were damaged.

For example, in the late 1960s, the beautiful Sparkman & Stephens ketch Saga was at anchor in the slot in the Tobago Cays when she was T-boned by a 65-foot ketch. Although the boat that caused the damage was insured, the owner-skipper denied that the incident ever happened. Saga’s underwriter felt that, since there were no witnesses (they were the only two yachts in the Tobago Cays that day and the Bequia fishermen, who normally would have witnessed the incident, were off diving), taking legal action would be so difficult and expensive that he paid for Saga’s repair. He did not even charge the deductible, as had he won a court case the offending boat’s insurance would have paid the claim in full.

There have been many other similar incidents where the boats that caused the damage were uninsured and simply departed without paying.
In my own experience, in 1993 Iolaire arrived in Puerto La Cruz, Venezuela, and we anchored in the southeast corner of the bay, well clear of any commercial traffic coming to the commercial dock. We left the masthead light on and went to bed. Half an hour later we were sideswiped by the Margarita to Puerto La Cruz ferry, one mile off its normal track. The ferry took off 15 feet of Iolaire’s bulwarks and the starboard-side chainplates, and severed our anchor line.

Once we jury-rigged the mast and were towed into Centro Marina de Oriente, I went to the ferry terminal and met with senior members of the ferry company. They denied all liability. I contacted my insurance brokers (D. Hudig and Co., a Dutch firm) informing them of the situation. Within 48 hours they faxed back saying that the ferry company and ship were insured by Lloyds of London, and said to tell the ferry company to settle immediately or legal action would be taken against them in British courts. With a copy of the fax I was able to make a satisfactory cash settlement on the basis of estimated repair costs. Had I not been insured, trying to sue a Venezuelan ferry company in Venezuelan courts would have been a waste of time.
One last example. When a cruise ship came into Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas, during Hurricane Klaus in 1984, she could not get alongside the dock as her bow and stern thrusters were not powerful enough. By the time she got clear she had damaged a number of yachts. The cruise ship’s insurance company denied liability, saying it was an “Act of God”. The boats that were insured were paid for damages sustained, as their underwriters threatened to sue the cruise ship’s insurance company. The only recourse for the uninsured boats was to hire an Admiralty lawyer to sue. But the Admiralty lawyers wanted too much money up front and those who were not insured ended up collecting nothing.

Being in the insurance business, I definitely have an axe to grind, but I think these stories should make a sailor stop and think. It must be remembered that there is cheap insurance and there is good insurance, but there is no good cheap insurance. You never know how good your insurance is until you make a claim. Then, if your insurance is poorly worded, or the claims manager does not really push your claim, or getting the underwriter to pay is like pulling teeth, it is too late. Know your broker; know your underwriter.
Don Street
Yacht Iolaire

Dear Compass,
This is in reference to the letter from George Curtis in May’s Compass, in which he complained about a visiting yacht’s being surrounded by a local fishing net in St. Lucia’s Soufriere Marine Management Area.
When there is a socially accepted way of getting food from the sea, most persons on yachts accept that is an important task for those involved in the activity, and even enjoy the show. The fact that it would have been quite hard for the yacht to re-anchor after the activity was completed is still not a valid reason for the fishers not to have asked the yacht to leave and return after their work was done. These guys feed their families by their work and the fact that a pleasure yacht is in the way is NOT a reason for them to stop!
Their skill in getting the net under and away from the yacht is commendable. All the “shouting” involved, which Mr. Curtis noted, is a very normal West Indian trait.

Mr. Curtis’s basic gripe was that those on the yacht were inconvenienced; the skipper was not happy. But that is not an international incident. Skippers are not royalty! My outlook is that a very minor problem does not warrant a big letter in Compass.
Yachties HAVE to understand that they are, after all, guests here. I, like Mr. Curtis, happen to be British. That does not entitle me to decide the local laws; these are considered to be the best way to preserve the locality and its inhabitants (human and otherwise), and control activities carried on within the area.
We sail to foreign places to enjoy them. And then WHY do we feel entitled to try to influence them to be different? I happen to enjoy the place as I found it! Yes, after about four decades here, I do have a bit of a reason to try to give a little help where it is needed. I would not however, try to change things outside of my area of expertise and outside of my local knowledge!
Sign me,
Happy to be here and helpful

Dear Compass,
I refer to a letter in the May edition of Compass from one George Curtis who purports to be a Rear Commodore of the Ocean Cruising Club.
I have no idea who his friend Henry Hugh Smith is and am not sure that I care, but both he and Curtis should consider themselves lucky that they were not crew aboard the German submarine that was netted by a Danish fishing trawler in the Skagerrak in May 2004.
On a more serious note, I find the tone of Curtis’s letter offensive and condescending in a colonially evocative manner.

It must indeed have been terrifying to hear natives shouting in a local patois — apparently, though, not accompanied by the beating of drums. I shall be writing to the St. Lucian authorities forthwith, demanding that fishermen be properly instructed in the Queen’s English.
It is shocking that Curtis’s “quiet evening had been rudely and somewhat alarmingly disturbed” and that the fishermen’s catch was not of “biblical proportions” but “seemed to be half a sack of small fish”. That half a sack of small fish probably fed several poor families who have no running water and no electricity. Perhaps Curtis should consider that when next enjoying a quiet evening in the cockpit with a gin and tonic in his hand.
Narendra Sethia
St. Vincent

Dear Compass,
I write fearing the demise of such an august and respected institution as the Ocean Cruising Club (UK) if the members continue to (presumably) elect, to the position of Rear Commodore, men capable of writing, no doubt for the edification of us ordinary unranked ocean cruisers, such ignorant, pompous and frankly sneering letters as the one submitted by George Curtis Rear Commodore OCC in your May edition. 
No doubt he feels that it is his duty to inform, due to his position as RC OCC. Before he does so next time could he please leave out the patronizing tones, do some homework on the life and economies of the places he visits, try to enjoy the unique spectacle he was privileged to witness and not to worry about his rights as a doubtfully “legally moored yachtsman”. Or should that read “invited guest of a legally moored yachtsman”?
This letter will have harmed the good offices of the OCC.
Chris Long
Yacht Tropical Dream

Dear Compass,
The debate goes on, year after year, about cruisers carrying guns or not.
Let’s be honest. Only a few of those writing and talking about this have direct experience with being attacked. Neither have they experience with guns, nor human reaction to confrontation with guns.
Most (not all, as the May issue shows) of these folks speculating on what they would do are, as one cruiser actually attacked put it, “armchair Rambos”.

Let's try to sort out the facts:
• Attacks on innocent “mom and pop” cruisers are increasing.
• Attacks, more often than not, include attackers with serious firearms.
• Coast Guard or other resources supposedly there to fend off these criminals at sea have one reason or another for not protecting us.
• Attackers now seem often to have the intent to kill, rather than just rob.
• Finally, the bottom line is that we either defend ourselves or throw ourselves on the mercy of deadly thugs.
Most accounts of incidents strongly suggest that attackers are NOT up to a fight. They expect to take what they want with little or no threat to themselves from unarmed cruisers who have zero protection, either by way of arms on board or from supposed “Coast Guards” funded to keep coasts safe.

Incidents reported in the May issue of Compass alone, and many (not all) other sources suggest that attackers will flee at resistance, even from a relatively harmless flare gun.
There should be international agreements whereby cruisers are legally permitted to carry weapons for defense, especially since the vast majority of nations cannot provide protection to cruisers.
But no sailing association, cruising publication, or anyone I am aware of has tried to initiate such obviously needed international agreements. Cruisers are not the kind of community that wields sufficient political clout to lead to international agreements. But we badly need to start this ball rolling through any and many means. That means ALL of us cruisers writing to our representatives and demanding such vital agreements in a world threatening our safety and very lives.

One article in May’s Compass suggests we limit our cruising to “safe” waters. Of course we need to avoid the threatening places as much as possible, but where would he have us cruise in the Caribbean? Where, please tell me, is this absolutely “safe” place where I must confine my cruising?
There are plenty of arguments bandied about in the United States for having arms. But in the US we are inundated with protection agencies such as city police, county police, highway police and lots of armed, private security guards in parks, industrial areas, neighborhoods, etcetera. But still millions of Americans see the right and need for self-protection with firearms.

Certainly we cruisers, traveling on unprotected seas, often alone, have this right to arms! On the high seas we have essentially no such forces at our disposal. And that confronts any honest cruiser with the stark fact he/she is ON THEIR OWN OUT THERE.

It is a disgrace and an outrage we are harassed about carrying firearms by Customs and other officials in nearly all ports in the Caribbean when they offer us virtually no protection. If we carry arms, they pounce on us innocent, law-abiding cruisers when they detect we have the arrogance to try to protect our lives in their often dangerous waters!

The only logical response to the situation is for cruisers to carry deterring arms to protect and save their lives. We must fill this vacuum, since no one else seems to care.
Second, we must urge publications, sailing and cruising organizations and our own legislatures to get behind international agreements allowing law-abiding cruisers to arm themselves.
Yes, if we have arms we need some training in their use. We need serious analysis of all incidents to guide us in the best defensive measure to take when confronting attackers.
It’s too bad the world has turned a less kind and gentle place, but it is a reality. We ignore this reality at our increasing peril. I am not willing to sacrifice my cruising life to the few bad guys out there and let them dictate how I will live my life. So, cruisers, it is time to stop just discussing this at cocktail time and, each of us, take some actual action to change and improve our situation regarding piracy.
As motivation for publications, sailing and commercial establishments and others to get involved to push for international agreements for cruisers to carry guns, I urge every business establishment in the Caribbean to think about how ALL of us are affected by the violence. Some are aware, but perhaps not to the depth of how they are affected. For example, I was discussing business with a travel agent at Bahia Redonda marina in Venezuela yesterday. Owing to an incident late last year in the Puerto la Cruz area (a cruiser was shot and killed at Isla Borracha) this agent says there is no longer enough business for ONE agent in that marina, let alone the four trying to survive there.

I think if more cruisers carried weapons, and the bad guys realized this, incidents would decline immediately. After a few actual confrontations, incidents could drop even further. These “pirates” are not like the old-time pirates of history. Experience shows that modern-day Caribbean pirates often do not continue an attack when THEY are under fire or threat of fire.
I hope some association in the Caribbean steps into leadership on this. If the agreement is not international, at least the Caribbean nations that are most affected by the bad publicity surrounding crime against yachts could enact their own Caribbean-area agreement and facilitate cruisers being able to self-protect. That would be lot cheaper than these poorer nations building up effective coast guards.
William P. Gloege
S/V Gaia

Dear Compass,
While Mr. Sadler (letter, June Compass) is, of course, perfectly entitled to his opinion of the Caribbean Safety and Security Net, and scary and xenophobic Americans in general, he should have done the courteous and gracious thing and simply turned off his radio. The Net is not, after all, required listening and everyone is free to tune in or not as they choose.
Having said that, I think that his ad hominem attack on the Net’s controller was totally uncalled for and absolutely vile. There was no reason (and no excuse) for anyone to lash out so savagely and personally at someone who had done him no harm or wrong — especially someone who is well respected in the cruising community for the work she has done via the Net and who devotes a great deal of time and personal effort to assisting her fellow cruisers.
One wonders what contribution Mr. Sadler has made, or intends to make to help the community, or is he just another petulant, vacuous voice spewing poisonous rhetoric for its own sake.
As a minor point, the oilrig that requires constant mention on the net lies between Trinidad and Grenada, not Tobago, so perhaps Mr. Sadler can spend the time he saves by not listening to the net reading his charts to sort out the difference.
Bill Brady
S/V Tempest

Dear Compass,
I read with interest Julien Simon’s Letter of the Month in June’s issue of Compass. The writer makes some valid points and I am sure most cruisers will empathise with his views on improving yacht clearance procedures in the Caribbean.
In tackling this issue I think one needs to narrow down the area of approach and concentrate on a small number of states rather than trying to encompass a multitude of Caribbean states that are very different, both culturally and economically. In this regard, it would make sense to have a cruising permit which covers the OECS (Organisation of Eastern Caribbean States), which includes Grenada, St. Vincent & the Grenadines, St. Lucia, Dominica, Antigua & Barbuda, St. Kitts & Nevis and Montserrat. (Anguilla and the British Virgin Islands are associates.)
The OECS is a progressive organisation that could be receptive to the idea of a cruising permit. These islands value and need the yachting revenue, whereas it’s a much harder sell to Caricom countries, which include Trinidad & Tobago and Guyana, for example, countries that rely more heavily on oil and agricultural exports.
Although the French islands are not part of OECS, they have a relatively simple clear-in procedure, and this combined with an OECS cruising permit would make for easy cruising throughout the Windwards and Leewards.
Concerned cruisers can contact the OECS, www.oecs.org. Also, the OECS member states’ national marine trades associations could help lobby their own governments. See a list of these groups at www.caribbeanmarineassociation.com/members/members.htm.
Sean Fuller
Rodney Bay, St. Lucia

Dear Compass,
After a wonderful short cruise from Grenada to St. Lucia and back we have perhaps detected an unsettling trend.
We love Bequia, and who doesn’t? Of course it is nearly impossible to anchor close to town due to all the mooring balls but that’s actually okay as we like anchoring off Princess Margaret Beach.
On five occasions we had large charter catamarans come into the anchorage while we were there. That’s not uncommon, but most recently these had four to eight couples of college students aboard. You can tell there’s going to be trouble when they come into the anchorage and everyone on deck has a beer in their hand and they are already yelling, “Wooooooooo, wooooooooo…” and so forth. This goes on until they have all passed out, usually somewhat before midnight but not much.

Extra sadly, we even had this same experience (including pretend pirate outfits and plastic swords — and these were 30-year-olds!) in Chatham Bay, Union Island, which is probably our favorite place in the entire Caribbean. The screaming and exaggerated laughing went on until about midnight. Forget about chatting and having a glass of wine on our own boat or doing a little stargazing. Our boat and the others in this usually peaceful anchorage were almost literally being invaded. Best that can be done is to go below and put on my headphones. Not how I usually spend an evening.

I’m offended by this intrusion and I’m embarrassed because, sadly and probably not surprisingly, they are usually my fellow Americans. Is the Caribbean becoming the next Ft. Lauderdale or Cancun — a wild spring-break destination? From the sound of it, most of these parties could be taking place in a hotel room in Cleveland. I mean, a drinking game’s a drinking game, right? What’s the point of coming to the Caribbean?
Moreover, I would like to challenge the charter companies (and they all seem to be equally guilty, if they should even bear any of the guilt at all in these pressing times). I challenge them to look at eight young people with no sailing experience on a captained charter and sit them down and give them a little talk about respect for the islands and respect for the “neighborhood” when you are in an anchorage. Then, let’s have a captain that doesn’t join in the festivities but maybe reminds them of the talk or takes them ashore to a bar that doesn’t mind American buffoonery, although I doubt that these people would perform like this in front of the local population.
Scott Welty
S/V Enee Marie

Dear Compass,
We hauled our Hunter 44 Deck Saloon, Chaser2, in November 2008 at Medregal Village, Venezuela, and flew back to the UK for our first grandchild’s birth and a visit to our son in Spain.

Now we are back home aboard Chaser2, she has a clean bottom, decks and stainless, thanks to the workers at Medregal’s haulout yard. The haulout and in, including chocking, and power wash was 800 Bolivares (around US$150 at the current rate). Rather than live aboard in the heat on the hard, we stayed a few nights in Medregal Village’s hotel at US$30 per night including an excellent breakfast. After launching, we anchored off and prepared her sails as soon as the wind permitted, then took a trial sail to Cumaná for a few days. All went fine.
By now many sailors are either southbound or have arrived at their insurance companies’ “safe” destinations for the hurricane season — maybe Grenada, Chaguaramas, Porlamar or Puerto La Cruz. But if you are getting bored waiting for November, why not take a trip and come and see us in the Golfo de Cariaco? You won’t be disappointed.
The Gulf of Cariaco is safe in a blow, and crime-wise it’s as safe as anywhere. In fact, the coastline between Puerto La Cruz and Cumaná is generally without incidents, very similar to anywhere else in the Caribbean. That’s not to say that there haven’t been muggings or attacks, but propaganda about Venezuela, generated in the most part by foreign press and its political advisers, causes everybody, me included, to get a little paranoid. Please remember I’m not suggesting Venezuela is a safer country than Antigua, St. Lucia or Trinidad, I’m just expressing my opinion that it is no more dangerous. We are building a small house on the beach here, and wouldn’t be doing that if we were concerned about our safety.

There are many beautiful anchorages in the Gulf. Laguna Grande is well known because of its desolate natural hillsides and bays that are three miles deep. Laguna Chica has a small fishing village where you are in rowing distance of a good bar amongst the local fishing community. On the opposite side of the Gulf is Mariguitar, great on market days. At the village of Guacarapo is a lovely anchorage especially if there comes a westerly blow. The village has a couple of small shops and a nice bar on the seafront with beer at two Bolivares. (These days that’s just 30 US cents. To me, beer demonstrates the cost of living of an area; cheap beer means cheap everything else, within reason.) No need to feel lonely around here, either. Just in one anchorage, there is a good international community and space to anchor a hundred boats.

At the eastern end of the Gulf, anchor in the centre of the channel where you can watch the stunning Scarlet Ibis and parrots come home to roost. Here also you can dinghy ashore; there are many fishermen’s docks, but the one at the far eastern end is best. He doesn’t mind you tying up, then you can walk through his garden to the main road. Most people give him five or ten Bolivares for the convenience. Here you can get a bus into the town of Cariaco for about US$1, or in the opposite direction to the beautiful seaside village of San Antonio.
Why not come and see us, anchor in safety and even take a trip inland to the marvellous caves or chocolate factory, or farther still to Angel Falls or even Brazil? If you come from Porlamar you’ll probably see many old friends. If you come from Puerto La Cruz, make a stop in Mochima and anchor right at the head of the bay in front of the village. The people here, like most Venezuelans, are very friendly. The village depends on tourism; accordingly they are more concerned than most that security is good. The restaurants are excellent, too — try Puerto Viejo.
See more on our blog at http://blog.mailasail.com/chaser2.
Phil and Yvonne Chapman
Chaser2

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