Armed boarding, Punta Pargo, Venezuela

Created by doina. Last modified on 2007-03-27 10:16:36
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Topic: Piracy Reports 2004

Armed boarding / robbery, Punta Pargo, Venezuela (10.43N 62.034W)

Time: 2215 hours local time, February 28th, 2004

This is a report concerning an armed robbery in Punta Pargo on my sailing yacht Myriad, a 40 feet aluminum sloop of French registry, and the murder attempt on the one person aboard, myself, Robert Monnier, traveling from Cumanà to Trinidad.

I was aware of the security situation on the Paria peninsula between Araya and Punta Mejillones. I thought of motorsailing mostly at night, and avoiding the Puerto Santos area. I wrongly assumed the security to be better on the East side of the peninsula.

After stops on the way in Isla Lobos for the first night and then in Carùpano for part of the next day, I motored overnight to Punta Pargo (10.43N 62.034W) and anchored there on Saturday February 28th at 09:15, planning to go the next day to Cabo San Francisco and leave early Monday for Trinidad.

I had various contacts with kids swimming to the boat to whom I gave caps, with a fishing boat that was in need of fasteners – a few were given to them. I strolled ashore, spoke with people then went back on board.

I had a very good contact with a fishing vessel, Papanian II, anchored close by and the mate Daniel, who speaks good English. They invited me to share a lunch of grilled fish, rice and arepas. Papanian II buys fish from the local fishermen and runs it to Trinidad where it is processed.

Late in the evening, the bay started filling up with fishing boats coming in for the night, which gave me some misgivings. Myriad was the only sailing yacht in the bay. I took the bimini down over the transom, which makes boarding the cockpit from the sugar spoon area awkward and difficult. I settled to sleep in the cockpit at about 21:30, the dinghy tied up to the stern with a painter – a rigid bottom Bombard with rowing bench and oars. The outboard is stored on the transom railing.

At about 22.15, I was awakened by voices and noticed the presence of two or more men on the platform at the stern. I immediately started shouting loudly at them in Spanish to get away. There were voices and the flickering light of a torch (wood? gazoline-soaked rag?) coming from the starboard side, probably from the llanchita (small wooden dinghy with oars, no engine) they must have used to reach Myriad. I realized that one of the men had a facemask and then assumed that the situation was the most dangerous. I jumped through the companionway still shouting and started looking for flares. In the five, ten or fifteen following seconds, as I was rummaging for the flares, the intruders were trying to induce me to come out with soothing words: "Amigo, venga, venga". I perhaps poked my head out to see if they had come into the cockpit, went down again for the flares. More or less at the same time two things happened: a shot was fired and I triggered a flare holding it the wrong way and hurting my thumb. The intense pain prevented me from realizing that the shot had been directed inside the cabin. Subsequently I continued shouting at them to leave, begging them not to come on board and not to take the dinghy, screaming in the VHF a mayday that I knew nobody would respond to.

I don't remember what they might have said at that time, I was struggling with the flares, they perhaps thought I had a weapon. They were still trying to get me to come out. One of the men, the masked one I think, made some very clear death threats, I don't recall exactly if this was before or after the gunshot. I was still screaming, allowing silence to hear what they would say or trying to find out about their movements. After a while I couldn't hear anything coming from the stern, but couldn't know if the intruders weren't standing still waiting for me or if they had gone.

After a few moments of calm, I came out cautiously trying not to get shot in the process and noticed no presence. I could see the dinghy rowed away with two men on board, barely visible along the cliff closing the bay on the East, towards the North, away from the beach. I started monitoring their progress with binoculars. The llanchita wasn't there. In the following minutes the dinghy was met by a motorized fishing llancha (roofless fishing boat). The group was about 600 to 800 yards away apparently struggling to deflate the dinghy or take it aboard. The llancha pulled the dinghy further out and then West. It was not possible to determine whether the group was headed for some place further down the coast to the West (Ensenada Mejillones?) or if they stopped at the furthest fishing boat, perhaps before returning to the shore in Punta Pargo. I went back and explored the inside with a doused torch. I then noticed the tracks of the gunshot on the roof of the companionway damaging wood on the headliner and battens.

I also took stock of the fact that my head had been in the track of the gunshot a fraction of a second before it flew inside Myriad.

I tried then to make plans for the rest of the night and decided it was not possible to stay alone on Myriad for the night – I would have felt insecure, and I realized I didn't have the means to deal with another attempt. I summarily closed Myriad, went quietly into the water, swam to Papanian II and woke them up. They hadn't heard a thing. I asked for shelter and spent the night there mostly not sleeping but looking at Myriad barely visible in the dark a hundred and fifty yards away, seeing of course hordes of attackers boarding her from all sides.

At first light I swam back to Myriad (Papanian II doesn't have a dinghy) and was happy to realize that she had not been visited again. With daylight and freshly brewed tea I was able to take stock of the damage – a quantity of wood shards littering the floor, big splinters of the overhead battens, one shot finding its way through the roof panel and inside the insulation - but overall mostly cosmetic, no navigation instrument or other equipment damaged. Daniel and a friend from Papaniam II came aboard and were very sympathetic, helping me to clean and comforting me. We then noticed a half dozen holes in the forward bulkhead and a broken lamp. Later on I realized these pellets continued to do damage on the other side of the panel, piercing aluminum tubes and paddles for a kayak. Shortly after I left to complete my trip to Trinidad.

In conclusion

The intruders probably approached Myriad in a small llanchita. Two of them made off with the dinghy, the rest with the llanchita. They couldn’t have swum to the boat, as the upper part of their body seemed dry. The one wearing a facemask seemed to me fairly young –not over 30. An older man was present, not wearing a mask. I do not know who fired the shot but assume it was the masked intruder. This man uttered some death threats in Spanish - something like ”calla te o te mato” but much more expressive - not loudly (not to be overheard by the fishing boat anchored very close?) but in a voice with some unmistakable intentions in it. Where these men from Punta Pargo, from another settlement on the coast, from a fishing boat, or a combination?

The bimini made ingress difficult and awkward but also somewhat prevented me from seeing the major part of the intruder’s bodies or someone hidden underneath.

It seems the intruders were not happy with the nearby presence of other fishing boats that might have become aware of what was going on. The nearest fishing boat clearly was aware of something but didn’t interfere – anyway it wouldn’t have done any good, they didn't have a dinghy either, their engine had trouble starting and the prospective of being fired at could not be more desirable on their side than on mine.

The firearm used is most probably a shotgun – one empty 12 gauge cartridge was left behind, a few pellets were collected in a cushion or badly deformed by their track. Shotguns are a part of daily life in Venezuela, seen everyday and everywhere. They fire one shot at a time and need to be reloaded for the next shot. The fact that one empty cartridge was left behind may mean that the shooter had reloaded. It may also have been a homebrew firearm, fairly common in Venezuela too. The cartridge is rusty.

It is clear that the intentions of the intruders were the worst that can be imagined and I realize how fortunate I am to be alive to tell this story, with no physical wounds and not in an utter state of terror. I am very happy – and lucky too – that the engineless dinghy was enough to satisfy them and that Myriad was not vandalized.

I was wrong in my assumption that anchorages east of Cabo Tres Puntos, however remote from Puerto Santos, would be safe. If I had studied the recent events, I perhaps would have been in the opinion that there could be no absolutely safe harbor except perhaps Carùpano where you can anchor a couple hundred yards from the Vigilancia. I could have continued straight to Trinidad on Friday, but was ahead on my schedule and wished to spend some time resting and cleaning the boat. I also wanted, ideally, to avoid the overtime tax in Trinidad, but ended up arriving Sunday anyway.

One will make his own recomendations to the light of this event– whether to go or not to go, what precautions to take, how to behave or that sort of things. Things worked pretty well in my favor in this instance – but I have just been very lucky. It could have been much, much worse. In my mind are the ordeals that others have been through and the cruelty with which they have been treated.

I would like to express my gratitude to Papanian II, her captain and the mate Daniel. Many thanks also to Barabara and Dietmar from Erasmus of Austrian flag, and Steph and Carolyn from the South-African Fruity Fruits. Barbara gave a helping hand at the customs dock in Trinidad when I arrived and there seem to be nobody to take a line. The two of them invited me to a recomforting dinner. Carolyn and Steph came to start writing this report, originaly intended for the Maritime Security Net, and were very supportive.

Your comments or enquiries are welcomed at romon@libertysurf.fr

Good luck with your sailing, wherever it is.

Robert Monnier

S/Y Myriad, registered in Sète, France, 41734/425