On November 28th, we began our longest trip yet, a 5-day sail from Grenada to Bonaire. Due to the risk of piracy near the coast of Venezuela, it is considered to be a dangerous passage. Prior to our departure, we had received all kinds of unsolicited advice from fellow sailors. We were told to stay at least 60 miles away from Venezuelan territory, turn off our AIS (position reporting), turn off our lights off at night, and even to have Molotov cocktails prepared in case any pirates attempted to board our boat.
Initially, we headed most of their advice, veering well to the north of Venezuela and disabling our AIS. Ashley was especially nervous, constantly scanning the horizon for suspicious vessels.
Then, two days in, a twin-engine plane flew directly overhead, within 500 feet or so of our mast. It appeared to be a military plane and was close enough that our boat vibrated. It then turned around and passed twice more. Ashley was terrified at that point, thinking that the plane might open fire on us. We contacted another sailboat 40 miles away and let them know what was happening. Then, the plane disappeared over the horizon.
Later that afternoon, it came back and made a couple more passes. This time, we managed to snap a picture of its tail number. The prefix indicates that it was a state-owned French plane, presumably based out of Martinique and conducting anti-piracy/smuggling operations. Nonetheless, it would have been nice if they’d attempted to identify themselves on VHF channel 16 before getting so close.
As we continued on, we found a couple reports from cruisers who had stopped in Venezuela without any problems. They wrote about beautiful beaches and friendly people. So, we decided to take our chances and stop in Los Aves de Sotavento despite the State Department’s Level 4 – DO NOT TRAVEL Advisory. Inadvertently, we ended up doing precisely what the advisory warned against: we arrived without notice and without a visa. The advisory specifically states “U.S. travelers risk lengthy or indefinite detention for attempts to arrive at any Venezuelan border crossing without a valid Venezuelan visa.”
Las Aves de Sotavento consists of 21 small islands with a small fishing community, a lighthouse, and Coast Guard base. As we approached, the Coast Guard contacted us by radio and began asking questions. Due to my very limited Spanish vocabulary, they had to repeat themselves many times. Eventually, they instructed us to drop anchor and prepare to be boarded.
As soon as we anchored, a small fiberglass boat approached. It was coated with a thick layer of sea bird droppings and contained about 6 uniformed men. They pulled alongside us, doing their best to keep their vessel from banging into ours. Two of them jumped aboard, but a third slipped on the bird droppings, slammed into our boat and then fell in the water. His companions pulled him back into their boat, clearly injured. Another man jumped aboard our boat to take his place, and the boat sped back towards shore.
Ashley and I stood there looking at three Venezuelan guardacostas, with their military fatigues covered in bird feces and their boots full of seawater. As we pondered our indefinite detention, one of them suddenly grinned and, using nearly every English word he knew, said “Welcome to Venezuela!”.
They politely introduced themselves and explained that they wanted to conduct a safety inspection of our vessel. They must have seen the look on Ashley’s face as she pictured them tracking bird turds throughout the boat, because they offered to remain in the cockpit while we essentially did the inspection for them.
So, for the next couple hours, and with the help of Google Translate, I collected information pertaining to our lifejackets, life raft, fire extinguishers, flares, propane tanks, flashlights, first aid supplies, and more. They didn’t ask the usual questions about fruits, vegetables, drugs, and weapons. Instead, they seemed more interested in electronics, asking for the serial numbers of our radio and chart plotter. They even insisted that I count the exact number of AA and AAA batteries on board.
During this time, Ashley supplied them with passionfruit juice and granola bars. She also shared our wifi password, so they could access the internet on their cell phones. They were extremely grateful, and seemed mystified by the speed of our Starlink connection and said it was much faster than what was available at their base.
After the inspection, they recommended we replace our expired flares and gave us some tips for navigating between islands and avoiding coral reefs. They told us that they see few US citizens, and that we were welcome to stick around, explore the islands, catch lobster, and spearfish.
Every country we’ve visited has entry fees. Many have anchoring fees. Some even require “gifts” (bribes). I’d read about Venezuela’s “widespread corruption”, and on top of that, we hadn’t exactly passed our safety inspection. So, I foolishly pulled out my wallet and asked how much we owed. They seemed almost insulted and even refused a tip. Despite everything we’d heard, it seemed their sole objective was to ensure our safety.
They radioed for a boat to pick them up, waved goodbye, and left us in the most amazing anchorage we’ve ever seen. With all the excitement, we’d hardly noticed the beautiful turquoise water and pristine white sand beaches.
We spent the next couple of days spearfishing, exploring and celebrating our wedding anniversary. Some of the islands were inhabited by very poor but very friendly fishermen, who stayed in rustic shelters made of driftwood and old tarps. The remaining islands were unlike anything we’d seen before. They looked as if no human had ever stepped foot on them. The miles of beaches were not littered with plastic, and there were no footprints except for our own. Sea turtles and their nests were everywhere. Sea birds chased crabs and lizards around on the sand dunes. The windward side of each island was covered in shells and shark teeth that hadn’t been picked over.
It was strange to look out and see absolutely nothing on the horizon except for our boat. We would have liked to stayed for months, but we’d already requested clearance into Bonaire and did not want to arouse suspicion by arriving late.
We’d heard so much negative information about Venezuela that we almost made the mistake of passing by this remarkable place and its welcoming people.
