Leg 014

"The Caribbean is calling"

The sun rises over the peaks of the Guarataro mountains in San Felipe.

Wanda and I have spent 17 nights in Venezuela, so we're both anxious to earn our next flag.  Being only 100 miles south of its warm waters, the Caribbean is calling to us.

Today's flight will be just Wanda and me, departing at dawn, ready to do our first stretch of island hopping.  We're headed to the capital of Aruba, Oranjestad, which lies 186 miles north of the San Felipe valley.  I didn't sleep much last night, too excited to make this leg.  Instead, I carefully reviewed the visual navigation charts and completed the endless forms to legally exit Venezuela.

The Sub Teniente Nestor Arias airport does not have customs facilities, but there is a procedure in which I can obtain a pre-clearance to exit the country if I pay my tourist tax online, then exit at a specific waypoint, making contact with a specific frequency.  I pay my $170 using my bank card, ensure I have the document number and create a neat little file to reference on the empty co-pilot seat beside me.

Turning northward after departing Sub Teniente Nestor Arias airport in San Felipe.

I arrive to the airport before dawn at approximately 5:30AM.  The 'Sociedad de Tareros de Venezuela' FBO tops us off to 100 gallons one last time, activates my flightplan and wishes Wanda and me a great trip.  In fact, I am pleasantly surprised to see a $100 refund in my online bank account from the FBO with the note attached, "Good luck with your adventure.  Here is a beer on us."  The folks of FSEconomy are fantastic.  I have no idea who owns the STV group of FBO's, but I hope they know that I appreciate them.  Wanda and I spent a total of 15 nights that their respective FBOs across Venezuela and flew 17 passengers.  I'm glad to have found the income and friendship.

The sun is just rising over the Guarataro mountains as I start the engines and taxi to hold short of the runway for run-up.  Since Wanda and I will be overflying a steep ridge and open water, I take extra time to check everything: both magnetos, prop control, carb heat and alternator functionality.  All looks great, so I flip the landing and strobe lights on and back taxi to runway 23 for departure.

Pushing Wanda to climb straight over these mountains.

The departure from San Felipe is slightly tricky, as the valley is sandwiched between two 5,000 foot mountain ridges.  Based on my calculations and experience, Wanda should have no trouble climbing directly over the northern ridge, even with a full load of fuel and me aboard.  After takeoff, I turn Wanda north and maintain Vy speed of 80 knots, which turns Wanda into a 1,850 FPM elevator.  We're pitched up nearly 20 degrees all the way to 6,000 feet, but Wanda never falters.  Within 3 minutes we have gained more than enough altitude to clear the ridge, so I ease Wanda up to 100 knots, reducing our climb rate to a still-blistering 1,500 FPM and continue the climb to our cruise altitude of 10,500 feet.

There is a decent amount of rotor turbulence as we crest the ridge, but within moments it disappears, and Wanda and I find completely calm skies more than 2 miles above the remaining parts of Venezuela.

The ridge line is cleared, so Wanda can take a more relaxed climb to 10,500 feet.

Settled at cruise, I prepare to exit the Venezuelan airspace as planned, followed by the tedious clearance into Aruba.  I purposefully departed this early, as Aruba doesn't receive the mainland USA arrival bank until lunch time.  I am hoping the controllers are well-rested and bored, as I make my first attempt to fly into their airspace.

Confident that I know what I am doing, I take a few moments to relax and watch the remainder of Venezuela pass me by.  The mountains slowly reduce back to sea level and the Caribbean waters become visible from more than 50 miles away.

I press my trusty shuffle button and enjoy "Your Song" by Rita Ora, as I sip my hot coffee and watch the sun spread its golden rays as far as the eye can see.

Overflying the Parque Nacional Médanos de Coro.

Venezuela rewards me with one last spectacular highlight - the El Venculo peninsula and the magnificent sands of the Parque Nacional Médanos de Coro.  It is truly a pleasure to trace the narrow islet that projects itself more than 20 miles into the warm waters of the Caribbean.  I can see Aruba nearly 50 miles in the distance, which blows my mind, considering that I still have 30 miles more of Venezuela to complete.  I knew that only 19 miles separate the two coasts, but it is wild to see it from 10,500 feet.

As I pass over the coast, Wanda and I must battle 27 knot semi-crossed headwinds.  The upside is that it will give me another 3 minutes at cruise to marvel at the gorgeous landscape beneath me.  As the Caribbean is notorious for windy weather and approaches, Aruba's ATIS is now telling me there will be a 27 knot wind from 150 degrees.  This will be a decently-challenging crosswind for the arrival on runway 11.

As I pass the NOREX waypoint, I am released from Venezuela and accepted into the Caribbean center ATC program for the next couple of weeks.  Thank you, South America, for the 13 wonderful legs.  I'll see you next year when I return to complete the tour.

Wanda and I have flown 20 flights, for a total of 17:56 in the air, covering 2,829 nautical miles.  We're now 10% closer to completing our goal of a complete circumnavigation.

Wanda and I bid Venezuela and South America goodbye and set our sights for Aruba.  We cover the 19 miles that separate the two coasts very quickly and are vectored for a downwind arrival on runway 11.  As expected, Reina Beatrix International is completely quiet except for one Saab 340 arrival 5 minutes ahead of us, so everything goes smoothly.

As Wanda and I fly the pattern, I spend a moment remembering my first visit to Aruba as a 17-year-old boy.  I spent a wonderful Christmas holiday on this little island with my parents and sister.  I remember jumping into the Caribbean Sea wearing all my clothes on the last afternoon, not wanting to fly home to snowy New England.  It was the first time that I realized that one of the saddest places to see is the departure gate at a holiday location for a flight heading to worse weather.  I'll never forget the happy looks of the arriving passengers and the frowns of those waiting to board.  Today, as a grown man, I am again a smiley arriving passenger, ready to enjoy the hot sand and warm waters of Aruba.  I had my first taste of shipwreck diving here, so I intend to spend a couple of wonderful days saying hello once again to the Caribbean.  I've answered your call, sweet mistress.  It's good to be back.