We got a radio call from the Dutch boat that had gone aground and now safely anchored off the town of Gran Roque, to say the boat with fresh fruit and vegetables was arriving this afternoon. We're down to our last half cabbage, a few carrots and a squishy tomato. Time to say ciao bellas to the buff Italians, weigh anchor and away to weigh in some crisp veggies. Following the sketch chart in our pilot book we sailed a brisk 7 knots along the fringe reef and out into open water. Off Gran Roque we dropped the anchor on a ledge of shallow water and went into town to investigate. It's a resort for affluent Venezuelans, pretty guest houses and beach front restaurants. The only motor vehicle on the island is the rubbish truck. Houses leaves their doors open onto the sand streets, children play football in the road. A palette of pastels, happy faces and over priced souvenirs. Disappointed to learn the supply boat had broken down and wouldn't get here for another two days. By scouring the recesses of the shelves I found a few items that hadn't morphed into inedible lumps of mold and a tray of local eggs. Enough not to have to hang around.
Our last mission was to spend the remaining local currency in the purse. Never a difficult task. We opted for cocktails on the beach at a cute restaurant, Margarita for me an Pina Colada for my manly man, lounging in bean bags and listening to the sea. Suitably relaxed we moved on to a fish supper which took care of all but a handful of bolivares.
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