Although our ‘cruising plans’ are considered by most as a ‘work in progress’, the one plan that was starting to look more concrete was a trip to the Orinoco Delta. The area is outside the ‘hurricane zone’ and as it was still too early to start heading north, it looked like an ideal spot. We heard that S/Y Darramy was considering heading that way in mid November and so if they didn’t mind some company, a buddy boat was just what we needed to seal our fate.

The plan was coming together. We would sail to Trinidad via our old favourites Mochima and Margarita and while in Trini we could apply for our US Visas. Brian & Sue, (S/Y Darramy) were already in Trini and so all that was needed to be done was to prepare Malarkey and ourselves for our jungle river adventure.

There are old tales warning that the Orinoco jungle and river is host to many strange and dangerous beasties. We may need weapons to fight off savages, snakes, pumas, piranhas, vampire bats to name but a few and the boat may need an all-over cockpit super strong mosquito net to protect us from veracious bugs and horse flies said to be the size of small birds capable of eating you alive where you stand…… Hold on a minute, what happened to that easy going pre-season shake down cruise……None of that old tosh for us….with stiff upper lip and true British grit, we’ll take it head on. Besides if Sir Walter Raleigh managed the trip a few years back with his dodgy boat and motley crew, I am sure seasoned adventurers like me & Jo can hack it on our fine sea going vessel ‘Malarkey’.

Well it all started off ok with a calm crossing of the Gulf of Pariah, which we all know is a famous area for treachery in ye old pirate days of yore. We then negotiated the shallows of the Delta with masterly navigational skills (basically we followed Darramy). And once in the Manamo River proper and the depths over 2 fathoms, we could breathe again and press on more at ease…..ah ha pieces of eight, pieces of eight, shut up you stupid parrot. Sorry I got carried away with the moment.

One must bear in mind that we were in the middle of nowhere here with only Jungle & rivers and the nearest town of some note was many clicks way. So doing the formalities and checking back into Venezuela would prove interesting. The closest description to a town was Perdenalles and it had a cop shop of sorts so we headed there.

The police man was dressed in combat fatigues and was armed to the teeth. What did he need all those weapons for we wondered, mmmmmm. He didn’t really seem to be bothered at all that a couple of gringos had just entered his country. He simply made a few friendly gestures, had a laugh at our passport photos and welcomed us to Venezuela. We gave each other bemused looks, shook hands and went on our way, still none-the-wiser as to whether we had checked in or not. At least we had made the effort to do the formalities but we weren’t going to press the issue especially with Snr Capitain Rambo.

We seemed to be a bit of a spectacle for the locals. They came out to have a look at us in all manner of floating objects ranging from dug out canoes to pieces of polystyrene flotsam. Everyone was there from the toothless granny to the toothless new born baby. Some canoes were being paddled by youngsters still in nappies. It seems that they learn to paddle before they can walk. And all, save none, had big beaming smiles. I know this sounds corny but they where totally enchanting. Jo was sold hook line & sinker and immediately went into trading mode…..it was difficult to say no.

The Warou Indians clearly lead a very basic subsistence life style. They live in bamboo huts on stilts with no walls just a roof & a floor. They sleep in hammocks and cook on an open fire. The men really are the hunter gatherers. They hunt game, do a little farming on land that they would have cleared behind their village and fish from the river in front. The women do the rest including making baskets & trinkets.

They were keen to trade their wares for just about anything other than money. What good was money to them anyway, there weren’t too many Tesco Supermarkets or Woolworth’s around. They seemed to have a liking for western style clothes as well as basic food stuffs. We could have traded the Chiefs daughter for a pair of Nike trainers.

Jo was in her element. She was well prepared with a boat load of cast offs and previously bought provisions. She traded and traded spreading the ‘sunshine’ around as far as she could and in the process made a lot of friends and gained a shed load of baskets & trinkets……guess what friends & family might be getting for Xmas!

We had numerous encounters with the Warou Indians during our trip up and down the river and we had numerous encounters with the local wild life too. Some encounters were scary some hilarious and some splendid but all were not to be missed & never forgotten.

Not so many moons ago the jungle was stalked by tigers & other large cats but only the Jaguar and Puma lives there today….but they are big & scary enough believe me. Monkeys are in abundance. The howler monkey as its name suggests makes a hell of a din not too far removed from the mating call of a silver back gorilla. Quite astonishing really bearing in mind this red/brown furry creature is only about three foot tall and I as cute as you like. The Capuchin monkeys are hilarious, they are your typical cheeky monkey capable of swinging down from a tree and stealing your hat and will perform just for your amusement.

There are many varieties of snakes including the boa constrictor, a large snake hanging around in trees above ready to snatch you for a light snack and the deadly poisonous viper. But the one snake that we did have contact with was more funny than scary. It obviously had aspirations to become a one-eyed trouser snake because we found it in a pair of my shorts. Jo armed with a broom tried to chase it off but things didn’t go according to plan. The snake now a tad annoyed with being prodded with a 5 foot broom decided the best form of defence was attack and jumped in Jo’s direction. Well I’ve never seen Jo move so quickly. She screamed at a sonic level which appeared to do the trick cos the snake threw himself overboard to get away from the noise.

Then of course there are water borne creatures that we encountered. The most impressive was the fresh water Pink Dolphin. We didn’t get any good pictures to give this magnificent animal justice, they were either too quick or we were too slow, you’ll have to trust me, watching a pink ‘Flipper’ type character doing its antics at the back of your boat in a fresh water river is as bazaar as it is wonderful.

I don’t know whether they feed on piranhas but I like the idea of something eating those little chomping machines. Over 30% of this fish is teeth and although the Warou Indians swim in the same river, they have a lot of healthy respect for this little fishy varmint. We tried fishing for them without much success but the Warou Indian children seem to catch them quite easily just for fun.

We were reasonably prepared for the fauna, flora and the indigenous locals before leaving. We even coped well with extricating our boat each morning from a surrounding deep bed of water hyacinths. The machete worked well there but what we weren’t prepared for was the Warou Boat Rally. This event is held annually at one of the local villages and we were lucky enough to be there just at the right time….or not, as in our case.

We jumped in Darramy’s dinghy to head to the shore to see what all the fuss was about. Unfortunately our timing was a bit off. We dove for cover when heard a pump action shot gun go off nearby, only to realise this is how they start their boat races and yes we were in the middle of it. No worries we thought how dangerous can a bunch of dug out canoes being paddled in your direction be…..of course hardly any, except these dug out canoes were being driven by drunken Warou Indians who had swapped their paddles for 40 HP outboard engines….ooops. There was a lot of shouting and gesticulating while we manoeuvred off the course as they drove by in a manic style at about 40 knots.  It was all the more alarming when we realised that they could hardly see over the bow which was now just off the vertical and that one hand was on the helm while the other was constantly bailing to keep the thing afloat. It was a spectacular sight and really quite funny. At least one boat sunk which was much appreciated by the crowd. Everyone rushed to either help or watch and you got the impression that it was like their version of Formula One and everyone was waiting for the crash.

Before we began this trip I figured that it would be like any other river cruise and would get boring after the first few miles. How wrong I was, there was something different around each bend and to almost confirm this, on our final leg back down, we come across the most impressive sight.  Ibis Island is called Ibis Island quite reasonably because it is the home of thousands of scarlet Ibis birds. And when I say scarlet, I mean scarlet . They are bright red from head to foot. When thousands of these birds come home to roost all at the same time and you are anchored just off the island watching, it is an experience of a life time, a real piece of unforgettable eye candy.

What a way to finish off a fine trip we thought…but the icing on the cake was still to come. We refuelled in Perdenalles before leaving the Orinoco Delta, taking on 200 litres of diesel for just under £1. Yep, the whole trip cost us £1 plus Jo’s dodgy cast off’s and a couple bags of rice & corn flour. In return we had a great experience and a life-time stock of wicker baskets & beads.