One of the reasons we'd come to Juangriego was to fuel up on cheap Venezuelan diesel and gas. But we had a little problem. The fuel dock is a concrete strip set into the east side of a rock jetty which juts south out of the small wharf area for Guardacosta and fishing boats. This made it a "lee shore", so to speak, in the 15-20 knot easterly winds. We knew we could come alongside easily by aiming a little upwind and letting the wind drift us down onto the pier, but getting off would be difficult.
Most of the larger fishing boats dock stern-to with a Mediterranean moor for fueling: they drop an anchor well east of the dock and then back toward the dock and tie off the stern. That way they just untie and drive forward to leave, picking up the anchor as they go. This is a little easier to do with dual engines and a large crew. Certainly sailboats med-moor all the time (particularly in the Med!), but we've never done it and were not anxious to try with Britt still a little under the weather. (We would also need to do something with our dink, as it would be in the way on the arch.) The fishing boats also monopolize the fuel dock during the early morning, when the wind is lighter.
The solution was found in Chapman's Piloting, a classic and indispensable reference book on just about anything having to do with boats (and if you are a would-be cruiser and don't have it, you should go out and buy it now!). We pulled in alongside, port side to the pier. After filling our tanks, we untied all but a "bow spring" reaching back from our port side bow cleat to a point on the pier about amidships. Then I turned the rudder hard to port (toward the dock) and drove forward, while Britt and Patrick worked with fenders to keep Windom's bow off the concrete. The action of the engine against the force of the spring line kicked the stern away from the dock; when we had a good angle, Britt jumped onto the bow pulpit and I turned the rudder to starboard and powered out in reverse. We felt pretty good about our clever maneuver -- as well as about having gotten 133 gallons of diesel and 16 gallons of gasoline for a total cost of $38!
In the evening we and Patrick and Theresa went out for one last night on the town, as our next few weeks will be spent among mostly uninhabited islands. We spent our last bolivares on fresh fruits and vegetables and a big bag of candy, then went out for a fancy dinner (on credit cards) at a little French hotel and restaurant named Patrick's. I had an absolutely heavenly tenderloin steak with champagne truffle sauce, we drank lots of Chilean red wine, French Patrick's wife was our waitress and French Patrick came over to talk with us in broken English about spearfishing. Things are not bustling in Juangriego; each open-air restaurant we passed had only one or two tables full despite it being a Saturday night. But the local teenagers were hanging out near the wharf where we tied the dinghies, looking out at the boats in the harbor and listening to loud music. As we passed, a boppy mix of "In the Summertime" started up, and Britt and I put down our vegetables and danced, to the loud applause of the watching kids. What a beautiful night.
It was a beautiful day the next day too, and we had a lovely sail to Isla La Blanquilla. I enjoyed it despite the dawn start, despite the lack of fish (Britt caught one small barracuda), and despite having Britt's cold sneak up and wallop me. But the breeze was good and the sea was more or less flat, a nice broad reach with the wind behind us but not too behind us. We dropped anchor between Kajsa, who had left earlier than we had, and Infidien, which has been here for a few days, in a nice sandy spot with clear turquoise water. Not a bad place to recuperate.
The only problem is that, technically, we're not supposed to hang out here, since we are officially checked out of the country. So when we saw a Guardacosta skiff pull up to Infidien, we got a little nervous, thinking we'd be next. But after fifteen minutes or so, the skiff pulled away. Teresa and Patrick dinked over to Infidien and came back with the scoop. Apparently Rick and Patti had approached a local fishing boat a few days ago and traded two bottles of wine for a fish. (A steep price, we all agreed!) The Guarda apparently caught wind of this because they went aboard and immediately asked for their papers and to inspect their stores of alcohol. The head honcho requested a bottle of wine for himself, and a bottle of rum for his crew; as Infidien is also officially checked out and Rick didn't want to make waves, he handed them over. As they got back into their skiff, the Guarda man asked, "Oh, you want a fish?" and tossed them a jack. I guess the moral of the story is -- catch your own fish!