Chuao

 Chuao 

We walked down to the small port in Choroni. En route we passed a small shrine. It was part Catholic and part indigenous beliefs with offerings, including a dead fish. It was part of the celebration of St John the Baptist whose saint's day was approaching. 

We found our skipper who was waiting outside the supermarket. He was waiting for a delivery of produce to be unloaded so he could get some fresh produce from inland. We loaded oursleves and the produce onto the bpat and set off.

It was a rough crossing , made worse as we were heading into the on coming waves. The skipper did his best to lessen the impact by approaching the on coming waves at a 45 degree angle. It worked to an extent but it was still a rough ride. On the top of a wave, we could see the horixon more than 20 kilometres away. As we crashed into the trough between two waves, the horizon might shrink to just ten metres and be two metres above us. Taking a photo whilst hanging on fr dear life was out of the question. 

We turnd into a bay, and the conditions changed instantly as it was potected from the in coming wind and currents. We beached the boat on the banks of a small river and unloaded. 

A view of the river mouth, clogged with boats from up and down the coast. 

We boarded a lorry and took the road inland. We had suddenly turned native. It was a truck with high sides and we stood in the back, holding onto the rails or the braver ones amongst took their cur from the locals and just lent, leaving their hands free to talk on the phone or to gesticulate to add to their conversation.

We stopped next to a tree of life. It is an ancient tree, gnarled with burls. A new burl appears whenever someone in the community dies. 

We had our first introduction to a cacao plantation. 

I half expected an orderly arranged line of trees running away in several directions, but cacao plantations are not that neatly aligned. Firstly, the geography of the valley bottom in a mountainous area with occasional outcrops of rock and rushing streams doesn't allow for that. Additionally, the plants dont like full sunlight and thrive in the shade. Therefore all the larger trees are left to provide that shade that the cacao plants need to thrive. It also helps to maintain a high level of humidity, shaded from the sun and shielded from any drying breeze, perhaps unpleasant for humans but the cacao plants love it. 

The cacao flowers and the subsequent pods grow out of the trunl of the tree. Colours can vary from yellow through red to purple. Even on the same tree at the same time and thoroughout the year but it doesn't affect the quality of the bean. The same tree can have both mature pods and newly forming pods at the same time. Farmers know when to harvest a pod by using a siple technique. They bang a ripe looking pod and if there is a dull response, its not ready to be picked. If there is a melodic response like banging a drum, then the fruit is ripe and it is cut off the tree. 

Only the beans are required so harvesters open the pod, scoop out the white slimy seeds into a bag and leave the pod on the ground to decompose and add back fiber and nutrients to the soil. 

                                                  

One of the shade trees, a breadfruit tree whose friut is usuable after processing as a bread substitute. But walkers and campers have to be aware as the fruit is big and heavy and can drop off at any time. The jungle is never quiet as these fruits and other large fruits like them ripen and fall through the canopy rustling leaves and finish with a large thump on the ground. 

I had read that this area produces the best cacao in the world. I had worked with the ICCO, the Interntional CoCao Organisation, set up by the United nations to promote cacao production and to intervene in the markets to ensure a stable price for producers. But the marketeers had obviously stolen a march on the rest of world production and promote their cacao as the best in the world. 

And it must be true as crossing a ford on the outskirts of the town is a large wall, sitting in the river with a mural, with the words in Spanish saying welcome to Chuao, home to the best cacao in the world. 

In the centre of the town is a Plaza Bolivar and across a large, concreted open square is the church. In between, all over the square are cacao beans led out to dry in the sun. We weren't visiting the cacao production area in the right order but it was hard to avoid. The beans are laid out every morning and gathered in every evening. If it rains, workers from all over town that are part of the co-operative rush to gather up the beans to stop them getting too wet. And of course, when it stops raining, the process is reversed and all the beans are laid out again when the concrete is dry. 

After harvesting, the beans are collected and left to ferment for a week in enclosed wooden bins, covered with banana leaves. Then they are laid out in the sun for a week to dry. Over the next few days, the beans turn from white with a slimy coating to brown at the end of the week long drying process. They are then graded and put into sacks for export. 

One of the bagging areas where beans are stored, ready to be graded and bagged. These are quality beans and command a premium price. They are sold to a Japanese buyer who pays a premium for the entire crop. The price was USD 11,000 a ton which was good when it was agreed and the co-operative had an assured market, but with volatility in the market and supply issues, the price for average cacao has edged up towards this level. The co-operative produced 30,000 tons last year and expects a harvest due to good weather and additional planting of 40,000 this year, so it is big business for the local economy. 

The co-operative doesn't do tastings but there are plenty of other producers only too eager to process their beans and sell the final product. We went to a tasting with high concentration of cacao, strong or sweet, plain or with flavourings of passion fruit, nuts or other flavours. Just a plain bar of chocolate would retail at USD40 per kilo whereas the raw cacao beans wholesale at USD11 per kilo. 

We walked on through the town. We had seen several vehicles, motorbikes, 4x4s, lorries and dustcarts but this is just one of many communities not connected by road to any other community. There is only a sea connection. Everything comes in by sea. It begs the question as to how some of these big vehicles get here when there are on formal landing facilities and no big boats or ferries.

The locals are very innovative. Just about all the boats are the same size, able to carry ten people or only go out to sea for the day to go fishing. When a vehicle needs to be delivered to a remote community, several stout planks are roped across two boats. More planks are positioned as ramps and the vehicle is driven across the sand and up to straddle the planks across two boats.

High tide floats the two boats lashed together off the bottom and they motor to the required destination and the process is repeated in reverse. I asked my guide whether there have been any accidents where the vehicle has slide overboard or the vehicle has sunk into soft sand. The locals have been doing this for decades with horses and carriages and know their local conditions. There hasn't been a loss for years. I pressed for how many years but got a nondescrpit answer. Obviously a rare event but the last incident is not remembered. 

I tried another tack. All these cars, 4x4s and motorbikes need petrol. Where is the local petrol station and how is the fuel delivered? Whoever needs petrol needs to go to Choroni (the nearest harbour connectd by road to the rest of the country) with their own barrel and buys 60 litres for USD5 and transport it back by boat themselves. 

We walked upstream to a local swimming hole. The water was refreshingly cool. There were a few locals and a few children but the space was large enough for all of us. We walked down river to a lacal restaurant for a meal of lcoally caught fish. 

One of the lcal inhabitants.

Many of the crossings of the two rivers in the valley have a ford and a footbridge, used by pedestrians and motorbikers who do not want to tempt fae and drive through the ford.

A rare snap of me...playing on a child's swing at a beach bar.

A view along the beach.

The beach bar with Tim going to investigate the swimming potential.

Then it was the trip back. The guide had suggested that we leave early before 3pm as the sea gets a bit rough in the late afternoon. We had a beer or cosada (a coconut milk and rum cocktail) too many and were late leaving.

This as the view of the Playa Grande near Choroni from the top of a wave. 

This is a photo of the beach as we crashed down from the top of the wave into the trough between two waves, just a mass of spray thrown up by the bows hitting the water.

The swell sometimes partially hit the beach from view...

...or completely as we descended into another trough...but the journey isn't long and people pay extra to be thrown around on fairground rides so it was all good fun. 

The monument ot the fishermen that we had seen the day before but this time seen from the boat...

...and the lookout point, just 120 steps up from the harbour.

...and finally the calm of the river mouth harbour where we disembarked.