[pe2-image src=”http://lh3.ggpht.com/-0Sb38AbxSDU/UjUbbJ-d7ZI/AAAAAAAAW8g/skP9jt0bLWg/s144-c-o/P9100022.JPG” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/112133179186774955122/SouthAmericaSection2Stage15VenezuelaBoarderColombiaToCaracas#5923671038224100754″ caption=”Beautiful rainbow over the coast after a “thunderstorn”” type=”image” alt=”P9100022.JPG” ]

Island stay with delay
Pos: here
Loc: Cayo del Noreste
Acc: tent
Dist: 36,4 km
Start: 5:40 End: 16:30

After darkness, only a single motorbike ran down the beach without bothering me, and I had a quiet night. Well, besides the usual heavy lightning all night and some rain with thunder in the morning. I had to pack a soaking wet tent, but my departure stayed unnoticed. I paddled out of the sheltered bay with some swell waves rolling in regularly, ending as small dumpers on my beach. A reef made me give it a wide berth around the corner of the headland, and bare red cliffs continued to dominate the scenery. Another rain squall with some wind, then it was reasonable calm until midday. I noticed at 12 am there was something wrong with my rudder – a line was broken on the left pedal! Shit! But fortunately I was reasonably close to a sheltered small headland with a fishermen’s landing at Curamichate and the wind was not pushing me too much sideways. Still I had to do strong sweep strokes on the right side only for half an hour to stay straight. But it could have happened at a worse time!

The breaking of a rudder line is normal wear and tear and the only blame I can only give is to myself for  not having replaced it earlier in advance. I did it already a couple of times, and it would take me about an hour to unscrew the footrest, attach a new line and adjust the lengh. I landed at a tiny muddy beach besides a stream in shelter, with a few fishing boats on the water and on land. It took no time and half the village from the cliff top came down to me, the outlook from high above over the bay must have been perfect and the word of mouth spread fast. About 50 young and older men were eventually around me watching my repair work. The women stayed in the village, they probably had to do some work instead of watching theater for an hour.

[pe2-image src=”http://lh4.ggpht.com/-E5AGmqf9rA0/UjUbRjgYBLI/AAAAAAAAW8g/kN-9fwCXj_E/s144-c-o/P9110025.JPG” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/112133179186774955122/SouthAmericaSection2Stage15VenezuelaBoarderColombiaToCaracas#5923670873278514354″ caption=”One of the small Cayos” type=”image” alt=”P9110025.JPG” ]

I  wonder what they were thinking of me sticking my head deep down into the cockpit to unscrew the footrest, at the same time sticking my bum right up high with straight legs to the spectator crowd, but this is the only acrobatic way to do the job. And it takes a while to fumble out the screws, and to fumble them eventually in again after e few tries of the correct lengh of the new lines…but after exactly one hour my job was done, and I paddled off again. Sure I could have stayed on the spot, but it was only 1.45 pm and I rather liked to get out of the muddy water here and to reach the first of the Cayos, small coral reef islands not far off the mainland.

Those last 15 km eventually turned into the usual afternoon slog into the wind, and I was counting down each single 100 m on my GPS, later each quarter of a 100m count, the flat island only very slowly coming nearer. I was praying it would be empty of people in the late afternoon weekday, at least at the corner where I’d like to camp. It had a a coral reef at the windy side, and some nice beaches at the sheltered end. I chose the furthermost left corner to the coral reef, hoping to stay invisible to the village about 5 km across the sea. There were many signs of old camps from people on the islands, mostly decorated with the trash of their happy times. Is really nobody in this country feeling responsible to keep at least these coral island gems clean? In the bushes, where shady campsites were hidden, I saw two times shadows of monkeys disappearing. I was also warned about rats on those islands, and to rather keep my food inside the kayak. I checked carefully all beach line, but no sign of people or boats. Great!

I just decided to move even to a further side left behind a bush to camp and trailed my kayak into the shallow water to that spot, when a motorboat with three guys passed slowly along to the reef. I waved friendly, hoping they won’t make a stop on the island…but surely they did. I was almost ready to put up my soaking wet tent to dry, not having unloaded many other bags yet, when the boat landed just besides me and spit out three guys. They didn’t look like fishermen, and on the reef they were not fishing for the brief moment they disappeared around the corner. So what was their intention to be out here?
They were rather looking to me like the local testosteron heroes, one maybe 16 years only, another maybe 23 and the oldest maybe 27 years old. Ok, now it was up to my psychological skills to keep them at bay and eventually off my private spot again! I was friendly, a bit charming, but also directed the action by passing out my cards, asking them a few questions and did some motherly jokes on the fancy shaven hairstyle and clothing of the youngest guy. I also told them I have a son in the same age, and managed to clearly dominate the brief time. At some point when my tent was fully up, I surely liked to change and shower now and to make myself at home with unloading more bags and to get peaceful rest. No way with their presence, so I simply made my  striptease movements and politely asked them to shuffle off with some jokes. It took two more straightforward attempts to fortunately convince them I’d be no victim for nothing, to get their asses off their spectator positions and they eventually launched again, smiling with respect and waving. They obviously didn’t know what to do with me, not being used to such women! If they were out to ask for “usage fees” of the island, having seen me approaching for a while, or if they rather liked to steal the nets of true fishermen, no idea what their intention was to be here. Maybe just harmless…

Still my night was not the calmest, I left with precaution all food (against the rats) and valuables (who knew if they or some friends would be back?) hidden in the boat, listening carefully for any motorboat or light steps approaching via the beach. But all stayed silent, maybe the lightning storm all night prevents boats to be on the water. I got some reasonable sleep, but also was sweating in the sheltered spot a lot.