Log 44N - Angel Falls

Written at: Puerto La Cruz, Venezuela

Oct. 22, 2007

The price of fuel in Puerto La Cruz is an uncertain situation. There is a fuel station down the channel where I can buy gasoline at local prices, about 600B's (about 15 cents) per litre, and I have filled up the jerry cans for the dinghy there. But they do not have diesel. I was astonished when we first came and I mistakenly handed our empty jerry cans for diesel to a dock attendant who was going to fill them for us, at what I thought was the local price. However it came to 120,000B's for only 90 litres or about 1,300 B's per litre. I thought he made a mistake and it should have been only 12,000 B's. However, there was a problem with large foreign boats filling up at local prices and even taking extra fuel to sell abroad, so now in Puerto La Cruz foreign boats are charged an international rate, still less than back in the States or Canada, but considerably more than the local prices. Trying to get a straight answer as to how much it really is is a difficult thing unless you speak Spanish at a local gas station. I strongly suspect my jerry cans were filled up by a local entrepreneur at local prices and I was stiffed for the international rate. Oh well, win some, lose some. To my knowledge Cumana and Porlamar still sell diesel and gas at local prices, or closer thereto, to cruisers. My mistake was not asking "How much?" before letting him take my jerry cans.

We have also had varying exchange rates for the U.S. dollar, depending on the amount of U.S. dollars exchanged, and the source (ie. Visa advance, cash, or wire transfer). Larger amounts of cash will get better rates. When we first arrived a month ago we thought we were doing well getting 3,400 B's for one U.S. dollar at Porlamar, and increasing to 3,800, then 4,400, and finally with cash for $1000 amounts we got 4,700 B's to the dollar on the international money market. The arbitrarily fixed rate is still only 2,060 B's to the dollar. So when I try to calculate what something is costing in Canadian or U.S. dollars, I can only estimate depending on the source of the exchange. As a guideline, I knock off three zeros and divide by 4. Today I bought a litre of TCW oil for the dinghy at 10,000 B's, which using my formula comes to $2.50 Canadian. Most things are definitely cheaper here in Venezuela.

Angel Falls

A few days ago we took a three night, four day trip to Angel Falls, the highest in the world, located in the southeast part of Venezuela in the tropical mountainous jungles of the state of Bolivar. Fantastic!

We had a four hour bus ride to Ciudad Bolivar just south of the Orinoco River where we spent a night in an acceptable hotel. However our brochure said the first night was to be in a cattle ranch. Oh well! The next morning we were taken to the airport where we boarded a small six-seater Cessna and flew for an hour down to Canaima airport, to Camp Wei Tepui in Canaima National Park. We milled around the airport for an hour as other groups came in and went, but our names were not called for over an hour. We walked with a few others to the camp itself, and milled around there for another hour. There was a Spanish-speaking guide trying to gather a group, of which it seemed we were to be a part. Fortunately there was a young man from Puerto Rico, who also spoke English, in the group, and he translated and explained what we were doing. We were to walk over the hill above the lagoon to board a dugout canoe for a four hour trip up river, with a half hour portage around the heaviest rapids, to the base of Angel Falls where we would hike the 1 ½ miles to its base, then go to the wilderness camp for the night. OK, - it was not the same sequence as the itinerary we had, and was an exhausting schedule, considering we had no breakfast; an hour long plane ride, two hours of waiting uncertainly around, a four hour canoe ride up river, a one hour hike in and one hour out, to then go to the wilderness camp for a supper and sleep in hammocks.

The canoe ride was exciting. There were 12 of us, two abreast in this long dugout canoe powered by a 50 horsepower outboard. These vessels have a very low freeboard. There was a crew member in the bow to help paddle occasionally when we came to rapids to orient the bow into the most favourable currents. These rapids were quite an experience, as they were quite swift, with plenty of white water. The coxswain would steer the canoe away from the rocks and shallows seeking deeper currents around rocks and large standing waves. Sometimes the bow would plunge into a wave, sending a wall of water over the boat, soaking us all. Approaching several of the rapids was quite intimidating as there would often be a bend in the river, rocks across much of it, large waves or white water cascading over the shallow bottom, and we had to go through them in this long slender dugout canoe with only 8 inches of freeboard. The possibility of the bow plunging into a wave and just diving under rather than over it was initially a concern. There was a sense of relief after we negotiated each of these frothing white water challenges.

Once the coxswain stopped the boat and drifted for a few minutes to give the engine a chance to cool down, and another time to fill the gas tank. We were concerned several times; as we approached the rapids we would hear the engine slow down, and feared a stall in the middle of the white water. However we soon realized it was a strategy to let the bowman paddle the bow in a certain direction to orient the canoe into a suitable current to power through the rapids.

On we went for over four hours up river, through fantastic jungle scenery, with squared tepuys (like buttes or mesas in the southwest U.S., except with tropical foliage at their bases and summits), with dramatic natural gargoyles and pinnacles at their tops, clouds scudding below and around them. Many of them were decorated with narrow waterfalls cascading down their cliff faces. These tepuys are characteristic of this part of Venezuelan landscape, many protruding over a kilometre above the river winding its way between them. (See attached picture) Finally we landed on a rocky, boulder strewn delta, where we got out of the dugout canoe and scrambled the 50 yards to the path leading to the base of Angel Falls. It was only 1½ miles to the base, but very treacherous, with rocks, tree stumps, and tree roots to be negotiated on uphill inclines, at times very steep. It was also late in the day, about 1530 when we started the hike, to arrive, fairly exhausted, in a light drizzle, at about 1645 on a rocky promontory. It was a solid rock ledge at the top of a cliff, allowing us to see over a valley and up to the rippling base of the falls, with the upper cascades shrouded in the misting rain and cloud. (See attached picture of Judy overlooking the lower falls). We caught our breath and enjoyed the view, but were unable to see the upper level of the falls in the clouds. It was now after 1700 and Judy and I knew sunset was around 1800, but the group wanted to wait a bit and try for the next level up. We did not relish completing the hike back in the dark, and told them we were heading back and would meet them down at the river.

We are glad we did! The downward trip was just as treacherous, and I was very concerned about a slip and fall, twisting an ankle or breaking a leg. There were no real safety precautions taken by the guide. He had no first aid kit, no flashlight, and no mobile phone or hand held VHF to call for assistance if anyone was hurt. It was dark by the time we reached the bottom near the river, and we were very concerned for the rest of the group coming down in the dark. They finally arrived 45 minutes later, stumbling along with the two or three flashlights that some of the hikers carried. Even the final 100 yards to the canoe at the water's edge was dangerous, as picking our way across the rocks and stones in the dark, someone could very easily slip and twist an ankle. We all made it into the canoe, and motored across the river to the base camp for a supper and a sleep in mosquito netted hammocks. The meal was barbecued chicken, rice and vegetables prepared by the guide and two canoe crew, with pop and fruit for dessert, quite nice.

It rained throughout the night, and in the morning the river level was up eight to ten feet from the previous night. The rocky point on the far side where we landed to hike to the base was now completely covered by the swirling waters. The clouds cleared a bit and allowed us a panoramic view of the entire falls from the top to the base, right from our camp. The ride downstream was quite exciting as the current was much faster and the standing waves far more pronounced over the shallows. We were drenched plowing through them. On our way upstream we had to manoeuver between a couple of large rocks near a bend, but on our way back down these rocks, which had been about 8 feet above the water, were now totally submerged. We stopped at Pozo de la Felicidad, a small waterfall on a tributary which entered the main river, for a swim. However I and several others were already wet and cool from the spray we had been experiencing on the rushing downstream trip, so we just watched the few brave souls play around the cascade and pond. (See attached picture of Judy with some others at the falls)

Back at the main camp by noon, we settled into a pleasant private room, with full bathroom facilities and a ceiling fan. After lunch we went on another canoe trip across the lagoon to see the waterfalls near the camp and to go under another set of falls, Salto El Sapo. We were in our bathing suits, and carefully edged our way 100 yards along, beneath the raging torrent of the river at full flood! The ledge beneath the falls had no natural hand holds, a few feet of rope guards had been placed in the trickiest areas, so we hugged the inner rock walls on our transit. At times the roar of the water was so loud we had to yell into each other's ears to communicate. The back draft of the cascading mists made looking outwards or forwards difficult, and felt as though it threatened to sweep us over the edge if we didn't lean inwards. It was an intimidating, exhilarating, exciting experience on that extended trip beneath the raging torrent. On the far side we hiked over to a level spot at the foot of the falls to scramble out onto some of the rocks beneath the side cascades, doused and pelted by the swirling vortex, being very careful not to slip off the rocks into the maelstrom of the main currents. (See attached picture of Salto El Sapo) We spent an hour exploring the far side of the falls at both the top and bottom of this magnificent behemoth. The fall of water was about 100 feet and the river was about two hundred yards wide as it cascaded over the cliff. Fascinating! Much better than anything we have experienced at Niagara Falls!

Next day we muddled around, and walked the few hundred yards to the airport to board our Cessna for the flight back to Ciudad Bolivar where we were to catch a bus back to Puerto La Cruz. However, on our flight back we had a most pleasant surprise, as the pilot diverted for about 15 minutes to fly directly over and around the tepuy from which Angel Falls cascades (see attached pictures), giving us a fantastic view of the area, the falls, and the top of the tepuy, as well as the delightful flight among low scattered clouds through which we could see below us the large lake dammed up for hydroelectricity and the savannah lands bordering the Orinoco River at Ciudad Bolivar. After a five hour bus ride we arrived back on Veleda in Puerto La Cruz, tired, but very happy that we did that trip to Angel Falls.



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