Just a few words about the Marina Cumana- goto, which is the only game in town if you want to stay in Cumana. There is no anchorage, either. All of the facilities are in terrible shape. The docks are falling apart, the electrical connections are nonexistent or questionable, the water pressure is bad. The showers are in the mall itself, so you get to share the space with everyone using the mall. The saving grace of the marina is the staff, who are personable, friendly, and helpful to a fault. We especially like the managers, Ruben and Gaston. The dockhands and guards are great too. The rates are almost 50% more than Bahia Redonda in Puerto La Cruz, where the facilities are so superior it's like a different world. But if you want to see Cumana, or need a mechanic, you will need to go to Cumanagoto.
Here's Larry in front of a neighboring boat, which seems to have been abandoned here, and left for the cormorants that splat on the deck all day long. Larry wanted to have someone over to the boat and stop here, telling them that we need to have a bit of work done.

We have a PYI Packless Shaft Seal, or "dripless" shaft seal, which has been great for many years. What we have found out, however, is that when it goes, it really creates a flood into the boat. The word in Spanish for flood is "inundacion" and that's what we had a couple of weeks ago. We found out about it 15 minutes away from the dock, thank goodness - because our automatic float switch for the bilge pump also decided to give way at that point too. We have an Ultimate Pump Switch, which has given great service for many years, but is now also kaput. After much footwork and investigation we have figured out how to get spares for both, and are having them shipped. Our simple haulout has turned into more of a project, with a shaft seal to replace, and also our engine motor mounts, which the mechanic strongly recommended.

In between things breaking on the boat, we are actually fixing some of them. Our latest project (which we haven't tested for water tightness yet) is a new kitchen sink drain. Here's Debby washing dishes out in the cockpit. We've been using a bucket for our sink for months now.
Here's the new sink drain. We couldn't find a drain to fit the holes for the sink; it's too small for standard kitchen drains, and too large for bathroom drains. So we found some plastic drains and had to cut some washers using a hole saw out of plastic plates. Everything is bedded with silicon.
Underneath the sink, here's the new fixtures. We are hoping for the best with this. It will be nice to have a working galley sink again.

In Cumana, close to the marina on the waterfront, is a small amusement park which reminds us of the 1960s rides we went on in Excelsior in Minnesota. They were from the same vintage, probably sold when they were decommissioned in the States. Just like the fleet of 1970s and 80s American muscle cars we see on the street.
This car, we think a 1959 Chevrolet Impala with the big fins, we found downtown Cumana. It was a real beauty, and still running.

Being in Venezuela is somewhat like an archeological expedition - what are we going to find that is 30, 40, 50 years old, what was built 40 years ago, and what was it when it was built?
We bought some yellowfin tuna steaks ("si hay atun aleta amarilla") from these guys, who set up shop every morning with a generator to run a jigsaw, all mounted on a modified bicycle. I don't think they see too many gringos, as we drew a lot of attention. The steaks were lovely, and cost about $2 a pound. Local fisherman pulled them out of the gulf right here.

We have been in Cumana, Venezuela for a month now. We like Cumana, and have been doing things like taking care of dental visits for both of us, and having the engine cooling system looked at. We tried to leave last week and overheated. It turned out to be a faulty thermostat, but of course we can`t buy one here. So we just took it out and will get one when we get to Curacao.

We did some of the touristy stuff and went to the fort on the hill here.

We also found a great wall with Venezuela`s motto on it here in Cumana.

We made it to Isla Chimana Segunda, then El Occulto, Mochima in Mochima National Park, Laguna Grande, and then Medregal Village in the Golfo de Cariaco.
Laguna Grande is especially beautiful, a huge protected bay with hillsides that remind us a lot of the American Southwest. It is very desert-like, full of cacti and other desert plant life, with red hills. It was a beautiful vista when we hiked up to the top of the hill by our anchorage.

The most recent show- stopper for us now is the sea water cooling pump on the diesel engine. We had a friend bring some parts back from the States in October, a plate, gaskets, screws, new impeller, to try to stop a leak from the water pump. It didn't work, and we now think we need a new pump. Trying to get one delivered from the States to get us going again is proving to be a real challenge. And - making sure we have the correct pump. Yanmar original pump costs almost $500 in the US, and about $600 here (plus about 20 days to deliver it). However, another model will fit and work, we have been told by several Yanmar service department employees, and cost about half that. Now we just need to figure out how to ship it here and get it without paying an arm and a leg for customs and shipping.
Meanwhile, there are worse places to be "stuck" and the Debonair is peacefully bobbing in her slip.

We finally installed a solar vent in the galley. It is a Nicro solar vent, designed to run on solar power when the sun hits it, and a switch to use 12 Volt DC house power at other times. I think I would choose another model Nicro vent, one which has a battery to store solar power instead of switching to 12V DC, and have a simpler system. It was bedded with Dow Corning 795, which we have been using for all through-deck bedding and like very much. Here are views from the outside and inside on the galley ceiling headliner.

We are also taking some time to have fun, too, of course. In October, Andy from Oma - Opa, Peter and Sylvia from Trade Wind, and Larry had birthdays. Andy's was her 70th birthday. So we had a wonderful birthday dinner and party for all of the birthdays in Peter and Sylvia's apartment.
Last night, we went out downtown to Paseo Colon with Trade Wind and had a great time looking at the sights, buying some locally crafted jewelry, and dinner at El Sultan, a local Arabic restaurant.

Work on the PortaBote is finally complete. We drilled new holes in the bow for a new coated stainless lead for locking and a painter. The fiberglass mat and epoxy job on the seats took over a week of work, and lots of epoxy, but they are very sturdy now. I sanded and painted the seats, both for UV protection and to make them look better. We used Venezuelan epoxy and fiberglass, and marine duro paint from Venezuela, which is a two-part paint.

Meanwhile, work continues on the Debonair. Varnishing (Cetol) on some pieces, and Semco sealant on most of the exterior. Most of that work is done now. Our fresh water system pump broke. It is a Shur-Flo, and the third one since we started cruising. They only seem to last a year and a half to three years, even with being very careful with it. This time we can't get a new pump, parts are not available in Venezuela. So we had to get our hand pump working. We have a foot pump in the head. The hand pump in the galley is a Fynspray, made in New Zealand. After not being used for over 10 years, it was a job to take it apart and put in new gaskets. We had to bend it a bit, but it's a hardy piece of gear and works just fine now. We're not sure, but it seems that Shur-Flo can't make a pump that lasts very long, so we may try a new company for the replacement pump. We thought about taking out the pressure system, but we like our water filtration system, which only runs through the pressure system.

Meanwhile, projects continue on the Debonair. The dinghy, an 8-foot Portabote, is getting a facelift. The seats were crumbling, its leads for the painter and lock were falling apart.
To start, we used new grommets for all holes through the sides, using the new grommet tool we ordered from Sailrite while we were in the States.
Then the seats, which were falling apart, all plastic parts cracked, needed complete rebuilding. We considered making new seats out of plywood, but wanted to preserve the ability to fold them up. They were being held together with Gorilla tape - which worked very well for almost a year. Then the seats were reinforced with fiberglass mat and epoxy, which took almost a week for the two seats. I found a great worksite here at Bahia Redonda, in an out of the way spot in the shade, where everyone walking by could look at my progress and offer comments. Finally, I painted them with marine paint. I'll add some seat covers the next time the sewing machine is out.

We took a bus trip up into the Andes, to Merida, Venezuela. The bus itself was the worst part of the trip - comfortable enough to look at, a double decker with reclining seats. But - like all buses in Venezuela, they crank up the air conditioning to frigid levels and make all the passengers freeze. It felt like a meat locker for 18 hours, even with all of our cold- weather clothing on and a blanket. Just another Venzuelan idiosyncrasy - when we complained we were told that's the way it is.
Merida itself is a beautiful city up in the mountains, at about 1,700 meters. The teleferico (cable car) was not running, and would be out for another year (!) Here are the idle cable cars, complete with a poster of Hugo himself below.


We took a city bus to a small town (Jaji) one day, and a tour with another cruising couple staying at the same posada as we were (Gioia's rooms). The hikes in the mountains, especially in the national park, are spectacular. Every turn in the path reveals a new vista, sometimes resembling northern California, sometimes Minnesota woods, or like the Appalachians or Rockies. Since it is so near the Equator at about 8 degrees north, the tree line is much higher than the Rockies, and people farm up at 3,000 meters in altitude.







Here we found a farmer plowing a steeply sloped field using oxen, probably much like his ancestors did hundreds of years ago. Potatoes and even bananas are grown up near Merida.

Venezuelan Red Tape
Venezuelan bureaucracy is not for the faint hearted.

Our latest encounter with government regulations began several days ago with a surprise "raid." More than a dozen red shirted officials from the government tax and customs agency descended on our marina. They proceeded to attach large stickers to every non- Venezuelan boat which meant those boats were impounded or seized until Customs decided otherwise. Apparently there has been a problem in this country of people buying boats/yachts in the U.S. and elsewhere, then bringing them to Venezuela under that foreign flag thereby evading customs tax.
To prove we were legitimate non- Venezuelan owners of our boat, all the boaters staying in this and other marinas were required to make an appearance at the main Customs office in another town with our necessary documents: boat registration, passports, etc. It would seem to have been a simple matter for the officials who put stickers on everyone's boat to just ask to see our papers and settle any questions on the spot. But that's not how things are done in Venezuela, where officials like to show their power by making things difficult for you and at the same time creating more paperwork for their already slow-moving department.
A few days later a busload of us foreign boaters was shuttled from our marina to the Customs office. The marina, Bahia Redonda, provided the free bus ride and arranged for us to be accompanied by independent agents who know the customs procedures. Marina management wants to minimize these kinds of government intrusion so that boaters will not become disenchanted with Venezuela and sail elsewhere in the Caribbean.

Soon we arrived at the gleaming new office complex that is the area head- quarters for Venezuelan customs and taxation, known here as SENIAT, Servicio Nacional Integrado de Adminis- tración Aduanera y Tributaria.
We've noticed here that shiny new buildings and modern offices do not guarantee efficient or even minimal service. Even with experienced agents representing us, there followed a two hour wait when everyone tried to find out what we were supposed to do. The Customs people did not really know what our document inspection was all about. There was even talk of a new tax being levied at the rate of 1% of the value of each boat.

Finally we were called together and everyone's papers were collected, although not the same documents we had previously been told were required. This meant leaving our precious passports and original ownership documents in the hands of unknown clerks and an unpredictable bureaucracy. It made us all nervous but we had no choice if we wanted to comply with this vague new regulation. Then we were told to return to the marina and wait to be notified, of what...we weren't sure.

Sending us away seemed a strange thing to do since we understood that the main purpose of going to the customs office was to verify everyone's identity in person by matching faces with passports and other documents. But who were we to question? So it was time for everyone to leave the customs office, but, surprise, our bus had gone missing. Now we waited some more while our chaperones made urgent cell phone calls trying to locate the bus and order it back to us. Finally the wayward vehicle was found and we were all returned to our boats at the marina to await further developments.



The next day we were summoned to our agent's office at the marina for the latest twist. Customs now wanted an arrival-in-country document which they had previously not cared about. This kind of unexplained reversal of procedure happened often, as when we were first told that only original documents were acceptable. Then it was fine to submit just copies, but wait, no, never mind, they want originals after all. You could not escape the impression that these government officials were making it up as they went along.

Another newly minted rule that applied to us was that only five boats would be processed per day. There were over 50 boats waiting for processing just in our marina alone, some needing their paperwork urgently so they could leave the country. Since the paperwork inspection for one boat could surely take no more than 15 minutes, the 5-a-day rule also seemed arbitrary, an ad-hoc way to ensure that Customs officials would not be overworked by this sudden influx of strenuous document shuffling.

Two days later our ship's papers were returned to us safely, but we still needed the official document making us legal and giving permission to peel the impound sticker off our boat. This was no small matter since a boat at another marina that tried to sail a short distance without this document was stopped by Venezuelan troops with machine guns. One of the worst things about bumbling, unprofessional bureaucracies in other countries, and ours too sometimes, is their eagerness to enforce rules that are haphazard or even incomprehensible. Anyone who objects or has had enough of their nonsense may be looking at fines, jailtime or down the barrel of a soldier's gun. A frustrating experience like this helps you appreciate well-run government operations when you see them.

The following day we did receive our Acta de Liberacion, allowing us to go back to life as usual before this latest fit of craziness began. We shouldn't complain much since we had many good people helping to resolve these problems and the whole business lasted only one week. And it could have been worse, as it is for people around the world stuck in bureaucratic nightmares with a lot at stake. What we went through concerning our boat, which is our home, was enough for us, thank you. We don't recommend it, so keep your papers in order and hope for the best.

Our next big project is the engine on the boat. We have a Yanmar 3GM30F, a trusty and reliable diesel. But - we came back to the boat after leaving it to sit for four months, and the raw water was not being pumped through to the exhaust. The engine is cooled by two methods: an enclosed fresh-water and coolant radiator, similar to a car's cooling, and also by sea water, pumped in past the engine by way of a heat exchanger. If you don't see sea water pulsing out of the exhaust when you turn on the engine, there's a major problem.
First Larry dove down on the boat to check out the through-hull, which was free of barnacles or other crud. Then we started our way back, taking off hoses to check the water influx through the strainer, to the engine. The most likely culprit is usually the water pump on the engine. It has a rubber impeller which needs to be changed as a regular maintenance item. We had last changed it in St. Martin, about a year and a half ago. Here's the water pump. But - it all looked OK.
So, then we started back through the parts.
We enlisted the help of a diesel mechanic at that point. Jose had the official-looking coveralls, but we found out later that he was not the authorized Yanmar dealer and mechanic. No matter, he did solve our problem. He also had no English, but we managed to communicate just fine.
A stray odd plug of Styrofoam had lodged in the exhaust system "el tubo de escape" - we still don't know how it got into the system, as the exhaust is well above the water line with floating debris, and the rest of the system is sealed. We're just relieved to have it fixed and be ready to leave.