Christmas
Arrive on Christmas Eve after a navigation rapide au portant dans l archipel de los roques, Venezuela.
C est un grand lagon de 20 milles de diamètre, très plat, quasi désertique dominé par le rocher de Gran Roque qui culmine a 100m, un des derniers paradis sur terre d’après Adri, en tout cas c est le bout du monde. Le petit village est tout ensablé, très paisible, plein de posadas, et tout comme au Cap Vert envahi par les italiens !
Ici pas d’autorites, nous avions oubliés nos visas d’entrée pour le Venezuela et ca c’est réglé par une bouteille de Whisky, c’est tellement plus simple comme ca !
Nous avons passé notre 1er noël tous les 4 sans nos familles (Adri in New York), in a small cove between the corals and drink wine / dining / pate (foie gras and turkey in less) Oliv for the occasion we had fresh bread, we sang Christmas songs and well thought out to our families.
Buddies:
C is pleased and somewhat surprised that I hear someone next to clock the vessel name, it was Pedro who had spotted the boat at anchor and we have joined the swimming ! Alex and Poncho have followed every 3 as white waxy ass and Alex after a poisoning oysters Christmas ...
Pedro gave us the greatest gift we could expect: he had robbed a grocery French, ham, foie gras, pate ... anything to declare? Uh no ...
We leave mop in the archipelago, we are forced to navigate among the passes of coral, the funds are shallow can we not too get close to the beaches but it encourages us to swim. Jul Dixit: I've never been so fit! And it's true that we feel comfortable here at the end of the world, dry bodies, lack of phones, noise and light pollution at night ...
funds are pretty, some coral reefs galore, barracuda and dirty mouth.
I also want to get my kite surf, the location is ideal, and the boys are getting into.
We spend the day of the year in Gran Roque, c is the occasion for a big night on the beach, in a posada, the rum flows freely and the tunes of salsa, some members of the crew benefit for acquaintance with Italian
... The next morning we get our skipper, who returned from New York after 15 days of vacation, fat as a pig after its debauchery burger!
The crew is full we head for an island of sand ideal for our national sport.
The foots
:
Every night before the cocktail, Caracas is facing outsiders Gran Roque on small islands of white sand, the beach serving touchline. It makes us so good to us romp that games are fierce. But the coral is made undermining the teams get smaller little by little. Evening in the infirmary, we shredded our feet Bandon, we can not walk properly after only 15 days!
After a few islands and some poaching lobsters, we head towards los Aves "birds", a small island downwind of Los Roques. These islands are completely deserted, the birds by the thousands tame, nesting on the ground, giant periwinkles and their breeding attempt gone awry, fishing and barbecues on the beach. ... the classic!
The return is more sporty, the wind picked up, 25 to 30 knots from the front, the problem is that we are 8 ... and there are only 5 beds and 4 port starboard tack, then transfer to a 2 there is one that squirts! Tonight we spend in weightlessness, the sick as they can pile up ... we arrive in Los Roques soaked, and as the boat pulled the table!
The last days are approaching, we find Gran Roque and our Italian friends and met at the option of English stay for the 26 years of Hadrian. The friends we improvise one last night after missing their flight, then it's off to Bonaire with a new passenger, Matteo, master mariner short and friendly Italian who joined his boat in Curacao.
I write at this time of Bonaire, a charming little island under Dutch influence where we could finally eat a real steak, the first since our departure from Europe!
you soon
OM
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