The marina itself is at the seaward end of a huge, artificial canal system, which has several marinas.  There are some superb houses within this area - a marked contrast to the other side of the marina wall, which looks onto a rather poor suburb, with tiny streets and houses, all heavily guarded with window bars, razor wire and glass-topped walls.  By contrast, the houses within the canal area are very attractive, many of them having their own private jetties, complete with a variety of boats, both power and sail.

At the opposite end of the canal complex is the Plaza Mayor, a shopping mall with quite a good supermarket, which - miracle or miracles! - had UHT milk yesterday; this is just one of the odd shortages in Venezuela.  One can go there either by taxi or by tender.  As it's about two miles away, we elected to go by taxi.

We have met several people here who are also on their way to Panama, so we're swopping notes, plans, ideas and generally enjoying ourselves.  The days are wall-to-wall sunshine, with the temperature rising to about 35°C in the cabin at times, although it drops to a comfortable 25°C at night, so sleeping is not a problem.

Bahia Redonda Marina

Plaza Mayor

The day began with a gentle downwind run, but then we were able to hoist the cruising chute and made excellent time to the Peninsula de Araya, where we turned south to cross the entrance to the Golfo de Cariaco before wending our way through the islands which lie offshore from PLC.  Here the shallows and shoals of the northern islands gave way to islets which seemed to plunge to great depths.  We were sailing within 100 yards of one of them, yet the depth gauge was off the scale (200 m).  We passed the huge tanker terminal in Bahia Bergantin and then rounded the breakwater to enter the Bahia Redonda Marina - our first marina since leaving San Sebastian de la Gomera some three months. 

I was not sanguine!  It looked expensive, so I was delighted to find that it was only £5 per night to stay - which includes water, electricity, cable TV (if you've got one - we haven't) and wifi access.  "Bet the beer will be expensive," I thought gloomily.  We ordered two, which came in chilled glasses.  The price?  Four bolivars - about 50p!  things were looking up!

The Anchorage at Coche

The first stop was the salt pan, but then we went on to the village of San Pedro where there is a shine housed in and extraordinary rock formation; a breccia with a hard matrix extends 15-20 feet from the top of a small cliff.  The shrine is housed underneath the overhang. 

We were then driven to a viewpoint above the shoreline, from where we had a splendid view of the north Venezuelan coast, albeit a misty one.  The island proved to be very arid, and the vegetation consisted mostly of cacti and other succulents, the bare, red earth showing between the plants.  The soil was covered with small rocks and pebbles.

Our last stop was at the east end of an enclosed lagoon called El Saco.  Although this is one of Coche's recommended anchorages, there were no yachts in there; perhaps the continuing reminders about safety and security were making yachties slightly paranoid! At the eastern end of the lagoon were enormous piles of shells - clams, cockles, conchs - acres of them.  Unfortunately my Spanish wasn't good enough to understand the explanation.

On the way back to Coromandel, we met a young Canadian lady who had been for a mud bath - doesn't she look fetching?!

By mid-afternoon we were back on board Coromandel, but it wasn't all that peaceful as the boat seemed to become the race mark for both windsurfers and jet-skiers, so we were constantly being buzzed by one or the other.  so we just snoozed, chilled out and left the recoil-less bazooka in the bilge!

Salt Pan

The Shrine at San Pedro

Piles of Shells at El Saco

It's been a very hot day, with only a gentle breeze to keep us cool - until, of course, we wanted to head into the bay on Isla Coche, when it increased to 25 knots.  The bay, which is quite shallow - we were anchored in just under 1 metre -  is fringed with a white sand beach, backed by palm trees, behind which are thatched-roofed bars and the roofs of holiday villas.  Beyond that is the island itself, flattish, barren and arid with the remains of a fortress-like structure which apparently was meant to by a holiday home for unruly teenage boys - along the lines of Robben Island, I think!  However, the project was abandoned.  Today there was an abundance of jet-skis, windsurfers, kite-surfers and day trippers from Margarita, who thankfully left in the late afternoon, making the place a little more peaceful.

A Sight Better Looking Back! 

The anchorage at Porlamar

We anchored in Balandra Bay, just around the easternmost point of the island.  It was evident that the climate here was much drier than Grenada, given the large volume of cacti we saw.  To the south was Isla Iguana, behind us a creamy sand-dune showed the way to the beaches on the northern side of the island.  It was steep to, so we were able to anchor out of the swell, about 100 yards off the shoreline in 7 metres of clear blue water.

The five days we spent here passed in an fascinating insight into the lives of the people here.  Cut off from most of the amenities of western society - there are no telephones, no postal service, no roads, no facilities to speak of - we found them cheerful, generous, warm-hearted.  Peter had met someone in Antigua who had told him that he must contact Marianne, a Dutch lady married to one of the villagers, which we did.  It seemed to be our entré into local society.  Marianne explained that the villagers were organising a big sardine gathering, so we went with her and her husband, Janos, to Testigo Pequeña where the fish had been gathered into a huge net just off the beach.  Janos' boat was a 15 foot wooden boat with a huge outboard engine, so we dashed through the waves in very close proximity to the beach, throwing up great fantails of spray.  Andy and Peter helped to haul the net, then sat under a coconut tree drinking beer.  The previous evening another couple in a similar boat had given us a huge Spanish mackerel, which Nikki kindly cooked for supper.  All in all, Andy had a smashing birthday.

A couple of days later, Andy helped Benjamin, the local engineer, to fix the neck of his guitar and then Benjamin showed us the path which leads to the top of the hill which dominates Testigo Grande.  It was an interesting scramble through groves of cacti and machineel trees, festooned with Spanish moss and aerophytes, over huge granite boulders.  Occasionally we'd catch glimpses of the the view, but mostly the path was enclosed.  The last 20 feet or so was a bit of a climb, but there was plenty of grip on the granite and the views from the top were stupendous.  The north side of the island is a long sandy strand, which we had found was covered with broken shells, mostly West Indian Top Shells - a real death assemblage!  Sadly these beaches also had a fringe of less desirable detritus - plastic bottles and other paraphenalia which had been washed ashore from the east.  The wind on the top was very strong - Andy thought that the whole of the rock was moving, so we didn't stay up there long.

That evening Nikki cooked us lobster which Peter had managed to buy from one of the fishermen, so another pleasant evening passed by.

Prickly Bay

Isla Testigo Grande

The Village on Testigo Grande

Andy's Birthday

View from the top of the Hill