Secret Beaches : VENEZUELA : Coves, Cays, Latin Beat

It’s Saturday night, and although my friends and I have spent the day on a sweep of golden sand fringed by tall coconut trees, after a dinner of fresh fish and frosty Polar beers, we find ourselves drawn--once again--to the waterfront. Like the locals in this tiny fishing village on Venezuela’s north coast, we have gravitated to the sea wall where a shirtless drummer bashes a wild rhythm on a hollow log while a dancing couple, their hips pulsating to the beat, glisten with perspiration under the moonlight.

Here in Puerto Colombia, the tradition of tambores (drums) has survived 400 years, since enslaved Africans were brought to work the cacao haciendas on the lushly forested coast. Now, every weekend a lively crowd, some sipping Venezuelan rum, gathers under the stars to dance late into the night. Although visitors are warmly welcome to watch or join in, this is no show staged for their benefit--it’s the way the locals party.

Puerto Colombia is just one of hundreds of beaches in Venezuela, the South American country that boasts the Caribbean’s longest coastline. I have been charmed by the beaches of Bermuda, the French and Italian rivieras and the South Pacific, but it’s the seductive Venezuelan strands that--like a siren--draw me back time and again. They are the beaches of everyone’s fantasies--gorgeous, palm-lined crescents. Some, such as Playa Grande, Colorada and El Agua, are jammed with bikini-clad men and women frolicking to merengue and salsa tunes; others, like Chuao and Cepe, are utterly deserted and so remote they can be reached only by yacht or fishing boat.

Besides their physical beauty, it’s the lively sabor venezolano (Venezuelan flavor) of the beaches--the music, the dancing, the merry-making--that each weekend year round draws entire families from their beds in the pre-dawn darkness to navigate the winding, death-defying coastal roads in search of pristine surf. In Venezuela, beaches are where students flock for impromptu volleyball matches, where couples cavort over games of paddle tennis and where extended families throw barbecues and everyone, including grandparents, ends up dancing barefoot in the sand.

International interest in Venezuela as a beach destination is growing, thanks mainly to its largest and most visited island, Margarita, about 30 miles north of the mainland. Currently Margarita is sold by several U.S. tour operators in convenient and affordable packages. Other Venezuelan islands gaining fame in recent years among sports fishermen are Los Roques, a cluster of atolls 100 miles north of Caracas that feature world-class bill fishing. Back on the Venezuelan mainland, another up-and-coming resort area is Puerto La Cruz, a coastal city that looks northeast toward Margarita and offers an international airport, yacht harbors and fancy resort hotels.

For more nature-oriented vacations, the national marine park of Morrocoy is a group of reef-formed islands scattered just off the coast about 140 miles west of Caracas that draws boaters, divers and birders.

And there’s Puerto Colombia.

When I lived in Caracas in 1984 and ‘85, I traveled to Puerto Colombia on weekends--rising early on Saturday to catch a bus to Maracay, an inland city two hours west of the capital, where I would switch to a minibus for the twisting, two-hour trek over the coastal range. Crammed in beside weekend revelers, their portable cassette players competing with the salsas blaring from the bus radio, I would gaze out the window in amazement at the surrounding cloud forest, where waterfalls washed across the one-lane road and towering bamboo trees formed a canopy overhead.

These mountains are part of Henri Pittier, Venezuela’s first national park, and close to the summit lie the remains of Rancho Grande, the research station where New York zoologist William Beebe conducted his important bird and butterfly counts during the 1940s. Beebe claimed he had to wear glasses to protect his eyes from the cloud of insects migrating through the Portachuelo Pass, a V-shaped dip in the 4,000-foot tall mountains.

So many insects make good eating for 500 species of birds. Mary Lou Goodwin of the Venezuelan Audubon Society calls Rancho Grande at dawn “without doubt, one of the rarest, most exquisite experiences a bird-watcher can have anywhere in the world.”

But birding is something I have grown into with time; back in my weekend beachcomber days my mind was set on finding the most sublime surf the Puerto Colombia area could offer. That meant going down to the waterfront and paying a fisherman a few bolivares (the Venezuelan currency) to take me and my friends to one of the coves nestled at the foot of rocky cliffs or at the end of dense tropical forest, and accessible only from the sea. The waves were big and rolling, the sand soft and inviting, and you could knock a coconut from a nearby tree when you felt thirsty.

My favorite place was Playa Escondida (Hidden Beach), a 15-minute hike west of town. I reached it by crossing a little stream flowing into the sea, following a trail through the forest and up a hillside dense with brambles, then scrambling down a cliff. There’s no shade on this little inlet, and the surf pounds, but it’s a spot where you can be utterly, romantically alone. The place is unmarked even today, but locals can give directions.

Until a few years ago, lodging in Puerto Colombia--a village of a few narrow streets--was limited to the spare rooms of local residents, or the Spartan but welcoming riverside lodge of “El Aleman” (the German), a rotund German whose Venezuelan wife cooked up delicious meals for her guests. My friends and I sometimes stayed in the top floor “suite” of this inn, where the walls extended only half way to the ceiling, which was supported by columns, and the gurgling stream out back lulled us to sleep. We paid about $15 a night--total--for this pleasure.

Then in 1984 a Caracas businessman named Polo Casanova, in an attempt to stimulate tourism and boost the slumping local economy, restored a rambling, one-story colonial house with a double courtyard open to the sky, pledged to hire only locals and to buy only local products--such as the hand-carved wood furniture and the garden vegetables served at each meal. While guests shared toilets and cold-water showers, rates at Casanova’s Club Cotoperix were set at about $80 per person--sky-high by traditional local standards. But they included meals, rum and beer, and local excursions.

And Club Cotoperix, with its fluffy four-poster beds, armoires and ceiling fans, has drawn international visitors to the area. Over the years several other entrepreneurs--many of them German--have opened their own lodges. Nudged by the increasing competition, rates at El Aleman’s have doubled and the place has been spiffed up--losing some of its rustic charm in the process.

But hotel prices become a distant thought after a long day in the sun, a bath in a mountain stream and a meal of fresh fish, rice, fried plantains and black beans at one of Puerto Colombia’s small restaurant shacks. Then it’s time to watch a dazzling sunset from the beach and while away a few hours over a beer at a local bar, until one heads back to the waterfront for tambores .

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Another area of small fishing villages, protected as a national park, is Morrocoy, west along the coast from Puerto Colombia. The towns of Chichiriviche and Tucacas, 18 miles apart, are the northern and southern gateways to this marine park of mangroves, sea-bird rookeries and coral reefs.

The low-lying streets of both places are flooded during the rainy season from May to November and pocked with dusty holes the rest of the year. As with all the coastal regions of Venezuela, there is little difference in temperatures between rainy and dry seasons; from the mid-80s to low-90s. In the rainy months there are occasional cloudbursts followed by clearing skies. When planning a beach trip to Venezuela, I don’t take the season into account. On my last visit to Morrocoy two years ago, I was amazed to see tourism thriving, with new lodges and restaurants springing up on the mainland. In 1984, when I made the first of half a dozen forays to Morrocoy, a local hotelier was so moved at having a North American guest that he refused to let me pay for the bill. Today the same man earns most of his livelihood from foreign tourists.

In Morrocoy, as in Puerto Colombia, local fishermen double as tour guides, motoring groups of sun-worshipers out to the cays of the national park in their colorfully painted wooden boats at a charge of about $20 for a group of 10. One of the most interesting routes passes through Smuggler’s Channel--also called Lovers’ Channel--where bright, orange-red starfish rest on the shallow sea floor. Isla de Pajaros (Bird Island) is off-limits for environmental reasons, but from a boat one can spot nesting frigate birds, scarlet ibis and tropical cormorants.

At the northern end of Morrocoy Park, best reached by fishing boat from Chichiriviche, are seven main cays. Coral-ringed Borracho is known for its superb underwater views and is a favorite dive spot with its calm, bath-like waters, good visibility, and abundance of fishes, corals, sponges and turtles.

Other islands at Morrocoy include tranquil Varadero with its sweep of palm-lined beach stretching a mile and a half, and the lively Cayo Sombrero, where crowds of Venezuelans string hammocks, pitch tents and lounge in racy motorboats (although there is talk of restricting anchorage because of damage to the reef). Sombrero is the only one of the cays offering refreshments--simple stands selling sodas and snacks.

Many visitors who aren’t prepared to camp stay overnight at small inns or hotels in Tucacas and Chichiriviche. Beaches are definitely the focus of any visit here; night life is confined to the somewhat shabby discos of a few bigger hotels like Mario’s in Chichiriviche.

A decidedly tonier beach resort area is about 150 miles to the east of Caracas. Puerto La Cruz, with its long seafront lined by outdoor cafes and yachts flying flags from every corner of the globe, is--like Margarita Island--featured increasingly in package tours from the U.S. The international airport in nearby Barcelona makes the area easily accessible to both charters from abroad and to daily flights from Caracas and Margarita.

Once a sleepy burg dominated by the 222-room Melia resort hotel, Puerto La Cruz now has a proliferation of seafood restaurants, souvenir shops, fast-food eateries and sidewalk loiterers shouting English phrases to passersby. The waterfront looks inviting but is polluted. The main culprit is untreated sewage from the high-rises of the nearby resort complex of El Morro, a jumble of sprawling apartment buildings, half-built hotels and time-shares ranging in style from Bavarian A-frames to Mediterranean villas.

Amid the mishmash of El Morro, a few resorts stand out for their lavish facilities. Perhaps the most notable is the 500-room, low-rise Golden Rainbow Maremares, situated on an 18-hole golf course with two lighted tennis courts and lavish spa. The hotel has a lagoon-style pool with wave machine; the beach is a five-minute walk away. As I’m usually on a tight budget, I always stay at one of the economical places in downtown Puerto La Cruz on the Paseo Colon, the street skirting the waterfront. Such inns cost $15 and up per night for a double, including a private bathroom and air conditioning provided by a vintage window-box model. But the real beauty of Puerto La Cruz is to be found beyond city limits. Tours depart by shared taxi, minibus and boat to nearby Mochima National Park, where one can ride horseback to the remains of coffee and cacao haciendas in the tropical forest, or sail to unpolluted beaches such as Playa Colorada, Arapito and Blanca.

Last November a friend and I paid $20 each for a day-cruise out of Puerto La Cruz on a brand new 32-foot catamaran operated by the Venezuelan airline Aerotuy. The only other passengers on the spanking white boat were two British farmers. We dropped anchor to snorkel at a peaceful, coral-rich offshore lagoon east of Puerto La Cruz called La Tina (the Tub), and later sailed within feet of the coast to an empty beach.

But Venezuela’s most remote and pristine beaches are found in Los Roques, the archipelago 100 miles offshore. When I lived in Venezuela, a boyfriend and I chartered a crewed sailboat from the marina beside the Macuto Sheraton hotel on the mainland near Caracas’ airport. Setting sail on an inky black night, all was relaxing and peaceful until we hit open sea and endured a grueling overnight voyage against the strong current that I still remember occasionally in my nightmares. It was like dying and going to heaven when we awoke anchored near a deserted white-sand cay, where we stripped naked and jumped into the gentle waves.

Two years ago I returned to Los Roques on a day trip with the carrier Aerotuy. For about $120 each, a group of friends and I flew from Simon Bolivar International Airport to the landing strip on Gran Roque, where the archipelago’s sport fishing fleet makes its home. From there we sailed in a motorized yacht to an isolated strip of sand, where we enjoyed a barbecue. During the afternoon, someone took $600 from my money belt, left among a pile of our beach bags. I had been robbed elsewhere, but never on a deserted island! Although most crime in Venezuela is confined to Caracas, it pays to always be on guard.

The sport fishing business has exploded in Los Roques in recent years, with U.S. magazines touting the bill-fishing and tour operators featuring programs. I don’t fish, but I’ve heard raves about Los Roques.

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Venezuela’s best known island, Margarita, also offers its most famous beaches. With rates at the top hotels ranging into the hundreds of dollars, Margarita is pricey by local standards but affordable compared to many Caribbean islands. Charters from abroad and flights from several mainland cities land at Porlamar. There are also daily ferries from the cities of Cumana and Puerto La Cruz. (I took one once and found it to be time-consuming--the four-hour voyage was two hours late--and not very comfortable or interesting.)

Many visitors to Margarita fail to explore beyond the pools of the high-rise resorts of popular beaches like El Agua. If they ventured out, they would find shady colonial villages like La Asuncion and the historic fortress of La Galera where Venezuelans gather to watch the sunset. Margarita was the setting for South America’s first Spanish town, founded in 1500, and the original settlers fished the pearl beds-- margarita means “pearl” in Spanish--so greedily they depleted the supply in just 30 years. Today beach vendors hawk strands of freshwater pearls, farmed at the inland lagoons.

Although Margarita retains corners of immense natural beauty, some of the island’s natural attractions have been ruined by tourist development. Last November, boatmen at the La Restinga lagoon--a wildlife preserve--admitted that most birds had been frightened off by the noise of the tour boat motors.

Today it’s the duty-free shopping on the main drag of Santiago Marino in Porlamar and adjacent avenues that draws crowds. French perfumes, designer fashions, imported liquors and gourmet foods are the most sought-after bargains. I usually spend a day or two on Margarita during my trips to Venezuela, but visitors who limit themselves to this island alone are missing a lot.

For my taste, the lascivious beat of the tambores , the bite of the potent dark rum and the pleasant sting of the salty ocean spray are best enjoyed far away from people who need the air-conditioned rooms to be content. I can’t think of a place where I’m happier than relaxing under the palms on a Venezuelan beach.

GUIDEBOOK

Margarita Villes

Getting there: American Airlines and United offer service from LAX, via Miami, to Caracas’ Simon Bolivar International Airport; lowest round-trip fare, with advance purchase and minimum and maximum stay, is about $660. The Venezuelan domestic airline Aerotuy serves Margarita Island and Los Roques. Avensa, Servivensa, Linea Aeropostal and Aserca fly to Margarita and other domestic locations. Puerto Colombia is reached only by bus.

Tour operators: Inter Island Tours, telephone (800) 245-3434 and Wright Travel, tel. (800) 877-3240, both of New York, offer beach packages in Venezuela. For diving and adventure trips, contact Lost World Adventures in Marietta, Ga., tel. (800) 999-0558. Fishing trips to Los Roques are arranged by Fishing International in Santa Rosa, Calif., tel. (800) 950-4242, and others. Sunny Land Tours of Hackensack, N.J., tel. (800) 783-7839, sells packages to Margarita Island.

For more information: The Venezuelan Tourism Assn. in Sausalito, tel. 800-331-0100. Embassy of Venezuela, Tourist Information, 1099 30th St. N.W., Washington, D.C. 20007, (202) 342-2214.