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Coming into Maracaibo harbor was quite the spectacle. Around the breakwater and past the Faro de San Bernardo. The red lighthouse towered above the sandy lump of San Bernardo Island and the narrow channel leading into a ten-kilometer reach of lagoon. The water was a crystalline blue, and the air was thick with the scents of palm and arid soil. The wind that had carried them so smoothly continued to favor them and promised hints of high jungles and a friendly city.
Kyle was once again at the helm and guided them up to the customs dock. The city towered ahead of them. Being on the far side of Lake Maracaibo from the rest of Venezuela, it had evolved in its own way. Other cities were a mayhem of conflicts, violence, and corruption. Maracaibo boasted a mostly peaceful culture and one of t
