Dawn at Te Amo Beach, Bonaire Island. I spent some excellent evenings here with beautiful Aleid.
I admit it: I spent three extra nights on Bonaire Island simply because it was fantastic. The combination of parasailing, cheap beer and Dutch maidens was too good to only scratch the surface. No, I decided to dive headfirst into five nights of pleasure, each capping off six days of absolute 'island mode.'
As I watched my fifth Bonaire sunset last night, I decided it was time to kiss Aleid goodbye and continue my journey around the Brass Globe. Luckily for me, my next destination is going to be even more spectacular: Gran Roque.
Los Roques is a Venezuela archipelago that includes more than 300 tiny islets resting upon one of the world's least known atolls. It is home to the pink conch and the spiny lobster. According to my research, Gran Roque is considered to be one of the world's premier deep sea fishing destinations. The challenge, however, is getting a hotel room, as there are less than 200 total rooms on the island. Again, luckily for me, my connection (Skylark2992) hooked me up with a free room at the Posada Mediterraneo.
At 06:00 it is already 34C and windy.
As it is nearly every day, the forecast between Bonaire Island and Los Roques includes some serious wind (gusting 45 knots by midday), so I decide it prudent to skip the usual hangover and depart early in order to beat the late morning wind tunnel. I plan an 06:00 departure. Today's flight is just under 100 miles, but since it is into a 25 knot headwind, I expect to be airborne for 40-45 minutes. As Wanda powers up, I notice the OAT gauge is already reading 34C. The air is thick and full of chop, so I plan to cruise at 3,500, wanting to escape the mechanical turbulence that will be rising from the waves.
After only three minutes of a short taxi and engine run-up, Wanda and I are lined up on runway 10, ready to blast off in our quest to find that little archipelago. As we depart over the east coast of Bonaire Island it is quiet down there. I don't see much activity at this hour, so I decide to find some company in my playlist. I hit my trusty shuffle button and enjoy Israel Orona's remix of "Higher Love." Talk about the perfect mood setter for this part of the world.
Wanda is happy at 3,500 feet, carrying me on the choppy headwind. 'It's OK girl' I tell her. 'We'll be there in 35 minutes.'
Flying over the undeveloped east shore of Bonaire Island, just north of the Mangrove Center Estuary. Flamingo airport is in the top left corner.
As we set 'sail' over open water, I reflect on my 5 days on Bonaire Island and the interesting facts learned. For example, I didn't realize that Bonaire Island was left without a country when the Netherlands Antilles dissolved in 2010. To this day it remains a special municipal district of the Netherlands, but based on my conversations with the locals, many are unsure as to what the future will hold. This fact is why I decided to add the Bonaire Island flag to Wanda's collection: it was a country flag in recent history and may be once again soon.
I was also relieved to learn that the 1,000 Steps dive site only actually has 67 steps. That number does sound small, sure, but believe you me: after a couple of Coronas and several hours of kicking the fins, going back up 67 steps is no picnic.
Finally, I also learned how Flamingo Airport earned its name: Pink Flamingoes actually live inside the airport boundary and often sun themselves on the warm runway during the few cooler months of the year. September is still a cooker, so I didn't see much of the birds except lazily standing in the shallow waters of Te Amo Beach.
Preparing for arrival into Gran Roque one can find some interesting notes not usually seen on airport charts.
Twenty minutes quickly pass and I begin to prepare for my arrival at Gran Roque. The ATIS is alerting me that winds are from the southeast, steady at 30 knots and gusting 40 already. 'Man oh man' I think. 'What will the winds be at noon?'
In addition to the fine challenge of the gusty crosswind landing I must also keep in mind that runway 7 is only 2,700 feet in length, with a stone wall and water on each end. I'm not bothered by the short field, as I have plenty of experience on 2,000 foot runways, but I want to be sure to make a mental note of my 'cut-off' point that I will go around. On my left side will be a giant mangrove tree and marsh, which are located 30% down the runway. If I get to this mangrove and am not on the ground with flaps coming up, I will add full power and go around. My Vx speed is 73 knots today. Into the headwind, Wanda will climb like an elevator in that scenario. I'll need to be careful not to bust the 1,000 pattern altitude.
Feeling confident in my plan, I scan the panel and am pleased to see that everything looks great. Dozens of tiny cays of Los Roques pass by my right window, so I begin to keep my eyes peeled for the biggest one - Gran Roque.
The warm waters and party vibe of Gran Roque beacon Wanda and me.
The GPS tells me that it is still 20 miles away, but Gran Roque rises in my windshield, and it already looks huge compared to the little splotches of sandy atoll islets that act like an entrance boulevard. The island itself isn't large, but it does have a prominent hill at the north end and a very large harbor on the west shore. I can already see dozens of boats anchored there. While I would love to simply buzz around and inspect them all from above, I keep myself mentally focused on flying a smart approach, as the short field and its gusty wind will not be forgiving.
I descend down to 1,000 feet, which only increases the temptation to stare at the colorful coastline of Gran Roque. 'Maxwell focus' I tell myself. I cut the music, drop the gear and only 20 degrees of flaps, tune the props and dump rich fuel into Wanda's Lycomings and begin to establish a crosswind-adjusted 2 mile final. I can definitely feel the gusts rising from the reef below, but I keep my touch light and resist the natural urge to bulldoze the controls. Wanda is doing great. I've come to trust her completely, and as expected, she is handling the turbulence like a champion.
Tracking the centerline, flying as slow as I dare, and walking the tightrope between a safe crosswind landing technique and a short field landing.
The final minute of today's flight is one of the most challenging of my tour so far. Wanda and I are thrown around pretty solidly, but her large rudder and abundance of power allow me to keep the centerline and touchdown zone in the center of the windshield. I make many more power adjustments than normal, very respectful of the delicate balance between short field landing speed, crosswind correction speed and stall speed. I fly the approach at 80 knots, which is slightly faster than I want for a short field and slightly slower than I want for gusty conditions.
As I round out for the flare, Wanda and I are kicked with a hard gust from the 2'o'clock direction. I add in a bit more power, kick right rudder, a tiny amount of left aileron and touch down gently just a foot or two left of the centerline. Like rehearsed clockwork, my right hand pulls the black and blue levers down and holds the flap switch upward to cut the power and lift out of the physics that govern our trajectory. The wind shoves Wanda's vertical stabilizer hard, but for the 20 seconds necessary to slow to taxi speed, I keep 'flying' Wanda and we're both safely on the centerline.
I slow to 5 knots, exhale a deep breath and u-turn to back-taxi to the terminal on the north end of the strip. Welcome to Gran Roque!
Runway 7 may be only 2,700 feet, but even in an aggressive crosswind, Wanda and I were all business, kissing the ground gently.
Even though the approach was exhilarating, nothing was out of the normal for Wanda and me. The short runway at Gran Roque definitely added a 'be careful' factor, but in the end, the strong winds acted like a big cushy brake, allowing Wanda and I to only use about 1,000 feet of the 2,700 available to us.
After shutting down I give Wanda a thorough post-flight inspection just to be sure the tires and struts didn't mind the stress of a cross-controlled landing. Everything looks good - tread, pressures, posture. Wanda telepathically tells me that she's ready to rest after working so hard, which sounds great, as I have a gorgeous new island to explore.
My plan is to enjoy a couple days on Gran Roque, then fly some paying passengers who want to go to Margarita, which will be my final stop between the last 'new' country and the next one, Trinidad and Tobago.