A warm sunset is approaching while Wanda waits on the ramp at Del Caribe Intl Gen Sant/Mari in Margarita.
Wanda and I spent 5 interesting nights on Isla Margarita. Was I searching for the key to unlock the mystery of Red Legs Greaves? Possibly. Was I sharpening my buccaneering skills to become the next Charles François d'Angennes, Marquis de Maintenon? More likely. Was I tied up with work-from-home (hotel in this case) commitments? Getting warmer.
After racking up a larger-than-normal tie down bill at the Margaritaville Air FBO (an FSEconomy company), I decided it was time to head east in search for the next flag - a red one, to be exact, with a prominent black slash. (sorry, my buccaneering romanticism is showing a bit)
Today's plan is to fly some small pieces of cargo (see logbook) to the Port of Spain on the island of Trinidad (of Trinidad & Tobago). I worked from my hotel for most of the day, so Wanda and I are not getting airborne until 17:30, which is to occur 5 minutes from now. I've paid my FBO fees, filed my flightplan and am ready to take the long walk over to see Wanda, who is sunning herself on the ramp.
Wanda, our cargo (see logbook for more funny names) & I get airborne into the thick, humid evening sky. That T-tail is incredible at this angle.
Although hot to the touch, Wanda has been sitting idle for 5 days now. I give her a thorough pre-flight examination to ensure there are no cobwebs accumulating in her cowls. Even the spiders are smart enough not to build their habitats in such a hot, musty environment.
'Can we move on' I think I hear Wanda whisper to me.
'Of course, my lovely, it's time to fly.'
Today's flight will cover 160 nautical miles, most of them flown over Venezuela once again. I am looking forward to leaving Venezuela in the proverbial rearview mirror, as Wanda and I first captured her flag on August 12, 2024. We're ready to jump on the Lesser Antilles highway that will make a graceful northwestern curve that will deliver us to Florida in a couple of weeks. Keeping this goal in mind, Wanda and I make the long taxi out to runway 9 and finally lift off into thick muggy air at nearly 18:00.
Approaching Playa El Silguero and taking note of interesting waterways.
Enroute forecasts show a thick overcast layer above the Península de Paria at 6,000 feet, so I elect to cruise this evening at 5,500. Because we are lightly loaded, Wanda and I rocket upward at nearly 15 degrees, keeping the needly firmly planted on the blue line. Within 3 minutes we are at our cruising altitude. Thankfully we've lost 14 degrees Centigrade during this upward journey, so we both can finally breathe a little easier.
Margarita Island quickly passes off our left wing, treating us to interesting waterways and silty patterns in the shallow bays of her eastern coast. The sun is giving us that 'golden hour' fabulous vibe, so wanting to accentuate it, I press shuffle on my playlist and Rascal Flatts' "Life is a Highway" paves the way forward.
Overhead the very interesting sandbars just west of Morro de Lebranche.
Wanda and I fly southeast over the small distance between Margarita and the Venezuelan north coast. We arrive on the shoreline just west of Saucedo, which we will follow past Río Caribe, then cut across the 4,000 foot peaks of the Península de Paria, following the Vía Carúpano highway pass. The air is perfectly smooth, as Wanda and I watch the many little towns pass under us at more than 185 miles per hour across the ground.
I can see La Esmeralda, Morro de Lebranche, and Playa Patilla in crystal clear detail. I am especially enamored with the interesting muddy tidal sandbars located near Morro de Lebranche. Their dark brown waters stand in stark contrast to the deep blue Caribbean Sea.
The mythical Copacabana is located at the top of the photo, with Aeropuerto General José Francisco Bermúdez below it, and Urb. Curacho at the bottom.
I scroll through my playlist to find 'Copacabana' by Barry Manilow, just in time to fly over the fabled beaches of its namesake. While I do realize that Manilow was writing a song in tribute to the 'Copacabana Lounge', I postulate that the club, itself, had to have been named after this little coastal paradise in North Venezuela. And even if that isn't true, the tropical vibes of Manilow's timeless tune (sorry, Mandy) sets the perfect mood for this part of the day.
Continuing eastward, in the distance I can see the faint beginnings of the overcast layer that was forecast for the mountain ridge of Península de Paria. It definitely looks to be at least 500 feet above me, so I am not worried about having to switch over to IFR. I take this opportunity, while still in sunlight, to check my charts, locate the highest peaks and begin to search for the highway that will lead me through the mountain pass.
A very thin, yet prominent sky cap is building over the Península de Paria.
Within a few minutes I am able to easily spot the concrete ribbon known as Vía Carúpano. I feel a few moments of satisfaction, as I realize my time in Venezuelan airspace will conclude only 20 minutes from now. While I've enjoyed all the legs flown in this part of the world, it is important to continue to push forward and make progress in my circumnavigation quest. I will remember all the shades of green, the muddy rivers, the economic lessons and the many, many miles of wonderful coastline.
This entire day I thought that I would be putting a lid on Venezuela, but this overcast layer looks to be 100% solid, so I suppose you could say that on the way out the 'door', Venezuela 'put a lid on me.'
For its final miles, the Venezuelan air gave me a solid overcast lid, completely smooth air and a few drops of loving rain on my windscreen. It's been real...see you (maybe), Venezuela.
On the ground at Piarco International Airport in Port of Spain (Trinidad), just in time for sunset. The colors and the lights paint a pretty background.
As the sun begins to set, Wanda and I cross the Bocas del Dragón straight (Dragon's Mouth) that lies between Venezuela and the island of Trinidad. We descend to 1,500 feet and follow the coastline past Chaguaramas. From 10 miles away I can spot the very tall buildings of the Shorelands development, which hugs the Port of Spain yacht club. Just ahead of me lies the capital of Trinidad & Tobago and Piarco International airport. Under a brilliant blue sky, accented by twinkling airport lights, I make a quiet, calm approach all the way down to a gentle touchdown on runway 10. Wanda and I make the second turnoff to the south and slowly taxi to the general aviation ramp, which is completely deserted tonight.
This coming week I have more work to accomplish on my laptop, so I may need to stay 4 or 5 nights once again, but my heart and mind will never be far from our next flight, which will collect a new flag once again. Until then I'll enjoy the steelpan that can be heard every night across the city...unless it is overshadowed by the Guyanese red howler, of course. Adventure awaits yet again.