Las lluvias siguen afectando severamente varios estados al sur de Venezuela. La tragedia convocó la solidaridad de miembros de la oposición, quienes este martes despliegan una jornada de recolección de ayuda humanitaria para los damnificados.</s>International analysts are not giving us the full story on Venezuela.

Political commentators have given their spin on the topic of Venezuela’s economic crisis. To their credit, some of them get the surface level details correct on the contributing factors to Venezuela’s collapse — destruction of civil liberties and property rights.

However, the mentions of Hugo Chávez’s nationalizations of oil fields while correct, miss a key historical component — Venezuela had a nationalized oil industry before Chávez came into power. Venezuela’s oil industry was nationalized during 1976 under the auspices of then President Carlos Andrés Pérez.

Chávez only expanded upon the previous interventionist projects that were laid out well before coming into power.

And this is not just nitpicking. To understand Venezuela’s current collapse, we must have a clear picture of the past 60 years of Venezuela’s political history.

There is no denying that Venezuela was more stable in the past decades, but the seeds of its very undoing were planted during those glory years. Ultimately, creation of the petro-state helped facilitate this decline.

Contrary to popular belief, Venezuela’s previous prosperity was not just based on its oil endowments. From the early 1900s up until the 1960s, Venezuela enjoyed high degrees of economic freedom — low regulations, low taxes, sound property rights, and a stable monetary policy. These factors played a major role in cementing Venezuela’s status as one of the richest countries in the 1950s on a per capita basis.

But several troubling trends emerged after 1958, when Venezuela returned to democracy. First, the Venezuela government established a new constitution which granted the State considerable powers over economic affairs. This political order would be cemented through the Punto Fijo Pact — a bipartisan agreement between the two political parties Acción Democrática (Democratic Action) and COPEI (Christian Democrats).

Both parties believed that the State could take petroleum revenues and channel them into generous welfare programs. For them, Venezuela would not be a truly independent country until the government had complete control over its oil reserves.

Oil Nationalization: The Beginning of the End

The oil nationalists finally got their wish in the 1970s.

Carlos Andrés Pérez’s government took advantage of the massive influx of petroleum rents brought about by the 1970s energy crisis and took concrete steps to nationalize the oil industry.

This was finally achieved in 1975, when Pérez’s government signed a law nationalizing the petroleum sector. The creation of a petro-state was complete and Venezuela’s institutional underpinnings would never be the same.

Instead of relying on citizens to pay taxes in exchange for the protection of their property rights and civil liberties, the Venezuelan government would bribe its citizens with government handouts derived from petroleum revenue to maintain its power.

Pérez wasted no time using this power-grab to go on a spending spree. While politically popular, Pérez’s extravagant spending program resulted in the extreme centralization of political power and runaway bureaucratic influence.

Another salient feature of the petro-state was crony capitalism. The State would frequently dole out petroleum rents to politically-connected corporations. When the State actively picks winners and losers, businesses spend more time lobbying the government instead of actually producing goods the market desires.

Although oil nationalization did not result in an immediate collapse, it opened the door for Venezuela’s economic decline.

By the start of the 1980s, the party was over. With a stagnant economy and increased public debt caused by the previous decade’s spending binge, the Venezuela government felt it needed to take action to jumpstart the economy.

On February 18, 1983 (notoriously known as Black Friday in Venezuela), the Venezuelan government implemented the largest devaluation of its national currency the Bolívar to date. This marked the beginning of Venezuela’s so-called “lost decade” of economic malaise.

By the end of the 1980s, Carlos Andrés Pérez came back into office, campaigning to revive Venezuela’s spending bonanza of the 1970s. But his campaign rhetoric abruptly changed once he took office in 1989. Pérez recognized that Venezuela was both debt-burdened and economically shackled by its government.

Pérez initially turned to the IMF for help — recommending several sensible reforms such as privatization, spending cuts, and tariff reductions. Sadly, these reforms were not fully implemented thanks to massive opposition coming Pérez’s own party, Democratic Action. As Pérez’s second administration progressed, political tension mounted as seen in upstart Lieutenant Colonel Hugo Chávez’s failed coup attempts in 1992.

Pérez would eventually be impeached for corruption charges in 1993, leaving Venezuela’s political order in shambles.

Did Hugo Chávez Have it Right?

Hugo Chávez’s political coalition had every right to complain in the 1990s. Venezuela’s bipartisan political order from 1958 to 1988 delivered lackluster results. In this time period, Venezuela’s per capita GDP grew at a paltry -0.13%, meaning that Venezuelan population grew faster than the wealth created during this period.

Charles Jones of Introduction to Economic Growth classified Venezuela as a “growth disaster”. Only a handful of Sub-Saharan countries and Nicaragua, a country under socialist rule and a victim of a bloody civil war, joined this economic hall of shame.

Sadly, Chávez used the same petro-state structure for his own tyrannical ends. He doubled down on the errors of the previous decades and brought the country to its knees through easy money, economic controls, land confiscation, and vote-buying.

Although Chávez rapidly expanded upon what the Pérez government in the 1970s had instituted, this historical event reminds us that well-intentioned interventions can be used by the next round of political operatives for nefarious purposes.

Bureaucracies aren’t flawed because they are unelected or lack qualified people. The problem lies in the institutions themselves, which destroy the profit motive and lack any meaningful system where proper economic calculation can be made.

All genuine reforms should start and end with plans to reduce and ultimately remove government involvement out of all sectors of the economy.

The cancerous tumor of state intervention does not require a Band-Aid; it needs a full removal.

About the author:

 *Jose Nino is a Venezuelan-American political activist based in Fort Collins, Colorado. Contact: twitter or email him here.

Source:

 This article was published by the MISES Institute</s>THE EDITOR: The Government is hailing the recent Dragon gas deal with Venezuela as a deal “made in Heaven.”

If Venezuela is Heaven, why is there a mass exodus from that country? Do they prefer Hell?</s>BOA VISTA, Brazil: Auxiliano Zapata may be a Warao chief but after fleeing chaotic Venezuela for neighboring Brazil his people are a lost tribe, wondering if they will ever settle in their beloved Orinoco river delta again.

The Warao, who number around 20,000 and usually alternate between towns and traditional rural areas in Venezuela's northern Orinoco River region, were among the first to flee to Brazil from the economic near-collapse and political unrest under hard-leftist President Nicolas Maduro.

"There was no medicine, no food, no transport, nothing. Everything became too expensive. To get here I had to sell everything. I had a television, a cellphone, a fridge," said Zapata, 43, at the Pintolandia refugee camp in Boa Vista, the capital of Brazil´s frontier state of Roraima.

The tribal chief, sheltering at Pintolandia with some 600 other Waraos, came across the border five months ago with his wife and 12-year-old son.

Bit by bit the emergency sanctuary, run by the local government, NGOs and Brazil´s military with help from the UN refugee agency, has taken on a more permanent look. White gravel has been spread over the ground and a volleyball court -- almost always in use -- set up. A new shelter capable of housing a hundred more sleeping hammocks is under construction.

While he doesn't have any work yet, Zapata at least knows his family can get food, feel safe and have access to a school. Such basics have been stripped from society in Venezuela, sending growing waves of migrants and refugees into neighboring countries. "I would return to Venezuela but I have to wait. I went back three weeks ago to see my father, who is looking after our house, and there is nothing there," Zapata said. "I won't tell you more because it makes me sad."

He says he feels pain for other tribal members who have not managed to get away, especially those suffering from tuberculosis or HIV, which are common among the Warao. Public health has been especially hard hit by Venezuela´s disintegration, with hospitals lacking almost everything.

The majority of Warao here are familiar with being on the move. They typically follow the tourist seasons, selling their artisanal wares, said anthropologist Emerson Rodrigues, who works at Pintolandia.

In Brazil there are many Warao in the Amazon region cities of Manos and Belem, as well as in Roraima state. They are scattered but secure.

"Here it´s a safe zone where they can stay and build some kind of future," Rodrigues said. Help is given to the Warao to go out and sell their handmade goods, to find work and to organize the communal kitchen and other basics of camp life.

No one knows how long they´ll be there. "They aren´t thinking about going back right now," Rodrigues said. "They come and work, put some money together, then go back to bring money and food, but not to go back and stay -- not till there´s a better outlook."</s>Editor's note: Paddlers from Arkansas, Missouri and across the United States took part in the annual Great River Rumble canoe and kayak trip. This year's route covered about 100 miles on the Des Moines and Mississippi rivers July 28-Aug. 4 from Keosauqua, Iowa to Hannibal, Mo. Flip Putthoff, Northwest Arkansas Democrat-Gazette outdoors reporter, was one of the 175 paddlers. Here are excerpts from a journal he kept.

Saturday, July 28: Relaxing by my tent beside the Des Moines River at Keosauqua, Iowa, eager to start our journey tomorrow. The Des Moines River is high, full and fast. The locals tell us reservoirs far upstream have been releasing big amounts of flood water for 10 weeks. Bring on the fast current.

Keosauqua is a cute, neatly kept river town, and they've welcomed us with open arms. It's Saturday night, and they're throwing a street dance and party for our group and the townspeople. We can hear the band tuning up at our camp in the city's riverfront park.

To get this rumble started, we all gathered in Hannibal, Mo., where our trip will end next week. Comfy air-conditioned buses chauffeured us to Keosauqua during a pleasant two-hour ride. A giant canoe trailer furnished and staffed by the Wenonah canoe company in Minnesota hauled our more than 100 boats to Hannibal.

What's this Great River Rumble all about? It's a week-long trip that usually starts on a tributary of the Mississippi River and ends on the Mississippi in the upper Midwest.

So where do 175 people sleep each night? Most nights we stay in a town's riverfront park, but sometimes away from town at a state or county park. We sleep in our tents, but it's not really camping. We don't make fires or cook.

If we're at a riverfront park, we eat at the restaurants or taverns in town that are a short walk away. Sometimes the volunteer fire department or a church serves us meals as a fundraiser. Those are nice because we all get to eat together.

If camp is out in the boons, breakfast and dinner are catered. Lunch is on your own, so most people bring a sandwich, tuna or whatever in their boat.

All our camping and personal gear is shuttled downstream in two rental trucks, kind of like a circus moving from town to town. We only carry in our boats what we need for the day, like lunch, water and a magnum-sized water gun for cool, skin-soaking water fights that break out on hot afternoons.

The band is cranking up, and it's time for the party. Can't wait to start paddling tomorrow. Next stop, Bonaparte, Iowa, 12.5 miles downstream.

July 29: We rumblers must have done a rain dance at the street party last night. Rain spattered as we broke camp this morning and then on the river part of the day.

Here in Bonaparte, the Des Moines River is big, nearly as wide as the Arkansas River at Fort Smith, and it's really moving. Today the current carried us along at 5 mph without even paddling. Swirls, boils and small whirlpools pocked the slick water from bank to bank. A gentle headwind was welcome to slow us down.

One neat thing about the rumble is to hear all the different accents in our group. Paddlers hail from across the nation, from Maine to Florida to California and most states in between, including Arkansas.

Our Razorback flotilla numbers four this year. Nancy Bullock of Rogers and her friend Nancy Moore of Beaver Lake are here, better known as "The Nancys" by their fellow rumblers. Tony Pavelka of Fairfield Bay and yours truly round out the Arkansas navy.

Most paddlers are middle age to senior citizens, with an equal mix of men and women. Dave, from San Antonio, Texas, is our senior paddler at age 88. He's here with his daughter, Kim, from Hawaii. Ninety percent of the rumblers paddle touring-class kayaks designed for traveling long distances. Canoes are mostly light-weight Kevlar types.

The Des Moines River is middle-America scenic and easy to navigate. Forested banks that almost drip with green make for a pleasant journey. Water quality is a big issue in every state, especially in agricultural Iowa with herbicides and fertilizer applied to crops. It's good to see the river has a helpful riparian zone, with lots of trees and vegetation to filter runoff that enters the river.

Tonight we have a lovely park for camping and a great band playing at the band shell. An uncle and three of his nephews make up this talented local group.

July 30: Our six-mile jaunt downriver to Farmington was like a sprint, thanks to the fast and full river. We're usually on the water by 8:30, but we launched late and finished early, drifting into Farmington about 11 a.m. Plenty of time to relax and enjoy the town.

A big highlight in Farmington was two young boys, Anthony and Owen, both true entrepreneurs about 10 years old. Each sported a hand-written sign that said, "Rent my bike," taped to the handlebars as they pedaled and visited around our camp in the park.

The walk was about four blocks to a convenience store to buy ice, so lots of rumblers rented their little bikes to expedite the ice run. I rented Anthony's bike and while I was gone, he made an extra dollar helping my next-door camp neighbor blow up an air mattress.

Next morning they were back to help haul stuff to the rental truck.

We always have a group safety meeting before shoving off in the morning, and we invited the boys to the gathering. They were greeted with thunderous applause and each boy was presented a souvenir Great River Rumble shirt and cap.

One of the gals asked the boys how much they made. Owen grinned and proudly said, "Forty dollars."

The next Sam Walton and Bill Gates? Could be.

July 31. Downstream from Farmington, the Des Moines River forms the border between Iowa and far northeast Missouri. It's that little piece of northeast Missouri that looks like someone chewed a bite out of it.

Our trip from Farmington to St. Francisville, Mo., was a speedy 17.5 miles in the fast current. We've had the river to ourselves all week, except for a couple of fishing boats. Catfish is king on the Des Moines.

Weather is getting hotter and paddlers broke out the water guns today. These are no piddly pea shooters. They're the 44 magnums of water guns that can knock a hat off a head. If you don't want to get wet, people won't shoot you, mostly.

Getting 100 boats out of the water at a narrow single-lane boat ramp like the one here in St. Francisville is no easy chore, but shows the spirit of volunteerism that is the Great River Rumble. Everyone helps everyone else carry their canoe or kayak up the ramp and into the grassy or gravel lot where they're stored for the night.

Every person who runs the trip is a volunteer, including the trip leaders and road crew who move this paddling parade from town to town every day. No one is paid.

Our armada includes some fine musicians. In the evening, all one has to do is strum a G-chord and a music jam breaks out. In no time, people pull up their camp chairs, tap their toes and sing along. Tuesday night in St. Francisville was one to remember, with all kinds of singing, dancing and adults not acting their age.

Normally we wrap it up by 10 p.m. so people can sleep. But tonight we kept it going until (gasp!) 10:30!

It's an early wake-up every morning, about 5:30 or 6 a.m. That's so we can break camp, eat a bite and get our boats ready and launched by 8:30-ish.

Fun and safety tie for Rule No. 1 on the rumble. The flotilla heads downriver as a group. There's a lead canoe and a sweep. All paddlers stay between the lead and the sweep, though the sweep might be one-half mile or more behind the lead.

Life jackets are worn and buckled. Two or three power boats accompany us downriver to help as needed. A handful of guys and gals on the trip are trained in river rescue, wilderness first aid, or work as EMTs or paramedics back home.

Aug. 1: It's always a magic moment when we flow into the Mississippi, the "Great River" that the rumble is named for. We hit the Mississippi at high noon after our last swim break on a Des Moines River sandbar.

Where the Des Moines joins the Mississippi, we looked at three states -- Iowa to the north, Missouri to the south and Illinois on the far side of the Mississippi. Here the Mississippi was smooth as tile on this calm and sunny afternoon. And big, a half-mile wide or more.

We turned our boats south for three more easy miles to our camp at Warsaw, Ill.

Aug. 2-3: Paddling down the Mississippi is like traveling along a long, slow-moving lake. Locks and dams keep the river deep enough for navigation by big tow boats and barges we see every day on the Mississippi. There's an easy current, maybe 2 or 3 mph.

This trip we went through two locks, one at Canton, Mo., and another downstream from Quincy, Ill. For first-time rumblers, locking through is big deal, but it's a piece of cake.

Huge iron gates on the lock swing open like the giant doors of a castle. All 100 kayaks and canoes enter the lock. The gates swing shut, then the water gradually drops anywhere from a foot to six feet or more.

Gates open and we paddle out, back on our merry way.

The Mississippi can be smooth as glass, or a froth of white-capped waves when a strong headwind blows from the south. There's the shipping channel where the tows and barges travel. They're called tows, even though they push the barges.

Then there's the backwater. One moment we might be crossing the main channel among the smoke stacks and bustle of industry. The next we turn down a Mississippi River slough and it's like we're deep in the Amazon.

Exploring new waterways and visiting the towns make a fine trip. The smaller the town, the bigger the welcome. No welcome was more welcome by us than at little La Grange, Mo.

La Grange was only a lunch stop and not an overnight. All details of the rumble are arranged months in advance, so the town knew we were coming. When we pulled up on their sandy river beach at mid-morning, the mayor, city council and a host of volunteers were on shore grilling hamburgers and hot dogs for us, with chips and ice-cold water.

Every bite was savored after eating tortillas, tuna and warm water for lunch all week. No cost for the feast, but paddlers could put some folding money in a donation jar to help the La Grange Boy Scouts buy a new equipment trailer.

When the last 'dog was gone, the mayor gave us a heartfelt thanks for contributing $750.

Aug. 4: Our last day on the river, from Quincy, Ill., to Hannibal, was the toughest. The day was long, 18.7 miles, with a steady 10-15 mph headwind. Plus it was hot, in the low 90s.

The day showed that the Great River Rumble isn't really for beginner paddlers. Most people on the trip have lots of miles under their hulls. Rex Klein of Chicago, the trip's enthusiastic leader, tells people, "If you can paddle 10 miles without getting out of your boat, you can do the rumble."

At Hannibal, most rumblers have motel rooms reserved. A hot shower and air conditioning awaits. Then there's a festive farewell banquet in the evening. We put on clean clothes and enjoy a sumptuous meal together one last time.

Some folks are hard to recognize without sunglasses and a floppy river hat.

Then it's home on Sunday. The drive passes with good tunes and fond memories of another Great River Rumble.

Flip Putthoff can be reached at fputthoff@nwadg.com.</s>Among the things that the Baudillo Centeno family brought from Tucupita (Venezuela) to Brazil is a big roll of a natural fiber called fique.

 

 "I knew we were going to need it," said his mother, Maria Centeno, whose age is unknown even to her children.

 

 Centeno and her family are Warao, members of an indigenous community that lives in the Orinoco Delta of Venezuela and in bordering countries such as Guyana and Trinidad and Tobago.

 

 They use fiber extracted from the leaves of the fique to weave hammocks, hats and plates.

 

 Since the Centeno family arrived in Boa Vista, a city in northeastern Brazil, their source of income is selling crafts, re-selling copper and asking for money on the street.

 

 They are living in the Pintolândia shelter in Brazil.

Hundreds of hammocks

 

 Six hundred 34 people from indigenous communities in Venezuela are living in the shelter provided by Brazil’s government and by non-governmental agencies like the UN refugee agency (UNHCR) and the Adventist Development and Relief Agency (ADRA).

 

 The shelter is actually an adapted sports center. Hundreds of hammocks, provided by the NGOs, are hung in the open space for places for the refugees to sleep. There are also several tents where Venezuelan migrants live and rest. Every day at dusk, an area is adapted for children to play soccer.

 

 The Waraos, a name that means "boat people," are one of the indigenous groups who have been forced to leave their territory due to the economic and political crisis in Venezuela. According to UNHCR, food shortages, unbridled inflation and violence are some of the factors that have pushed them to cross borders seeking humanitarian aid.

 

 There are about 20,000 Warao in Venezuela.

 

 Jesús Gutiérrez, chief of his Waraos tribe, says that the situation in Venezuela affects his people in a particularly crude way.

 

 "Most of the Warao do not have a salary. We are farmers and artisans, but there is no one who buys [our products] in Venezuela," he said.

 

 But not many in Brazil are buying either. The Centeno family say that their fique products are not selling well and most of the time, they have to beg for money on the street.

 

 On occasion men have asked younger Centeno females for sex in exchange for money.

 

 "The [men] arrive and show you the money. Once, a guy told me, you're so pretty, what are you asking for [money]?" said 19-year-old Erica Gonzales.

Missing home

 

 Warao tribes are composed of several families. Gutiérrez's, for example, has 600 members, of which 75 are in Boa Vista. One of the particularities of the immigration of the indigenous groups, said Helena Souders, coordinator of ADRA, is that they usually travel in big family units.

 

 In Pintolândia and in five other refugee camps in Boa Vista, ADRA provides migrants with hygiene, domestic and kitchen kits. In this particular settlement, explains Souders, they try to adapt to the needs of the indigenous people. For instance, they hand out hammocks instead of mattresses and they distribute uncooked food, so the refugees can prepare meals on charcoal fires.

 However, both Gutiérrez and members of the Centeno family say that in Venezuela they slept on mattresses.

 

 "Sleeping in hammocks was done before ... there are very few who still do it," said Erica Rodrígez, Centeno's granddaughter, who left her career as an agro-industrial engineer when she immigrated to Brazil.

 

 Chief Gutiérrez says that sometimes problems arise in coexistence. "We are not used to sleeping like this, all together." He adds that what bothers him the most is having to keep an eye on his possessions, such as spoons and plates, so they do not get stolen.

 

 However, he says, as hard as it is to adapt to living in a camp, to a certain extent he is better here than in Venezuela, where he struggled to find a way to feed his family.

 

 WATCH: A peek inside the shelter



 Maria Centeno has a one-month old grandhchild, who was born in Boa Vista, and feels that the little one "does not live free." In Venezuela, says Centeno, "we lived more open and close to the river. We listened to the animals, as they sang. Here we only hear the cries of our babies.”

She says that she prays for the other Venezuelans who, like her, want to come to Boa Vista: "There is no room for more people".</s>CARACAS, Venezuela (AP) — U.S. oil giant ConocoPhillips says it has reached an agreement with Venezuela*s state-owned oil company to recover nearly $2 billion it was awarded as part of a decade-old expropriation dispute.

Monday’s statement from Houston-based Conoco says that PDVSA has agreed to recognize the judgement by an international arbitration panel and will make the first $500 million payment within 90 days and the rest over a period of some four years.

In exchange, Conoco will suspend legal actions to seize PDVSA’s facilities in the Dutch Antilles that had threatened to disrupt Venezuela*s already-depressed oil exports at a time of widespread shortages and hyperinflation.

The award is equivalent to more than 20 percent of cast-strapped Venezuela*s foreign currency reserves.

Copyright © 2018 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, written or redistributed.</s>(CMC) – The Trinidad and Tobago government has brushed aside criticisms relating to the new gas agreement it signed with Venezuela over the weekend even as the main opposition United National Congress (UNC) called for the terms regarding the price of gas under the accord to be made public.

“We in the Opposition were always concerned with this agreement given the economic hardship being experienced by the Venezuelan government as well as this government’s track record of incompetence,” said UNC chairman, David Lee.

Lee said the party’s concerns stem from the failure of Caracas to meet the payments for goods sent to the South American country in recent months.

“It is therefore unacceptable and irresponsible that over one year since these questions were first posed and over two years since goods were first shipped to Venezuela manufacturers have not been adequately compensated,” he said.

But, Energy Minister, Franklin Khan, told reporters that the gas agreement was reached after “months of negotiation, serious intervention, serious sharing of information and serious sharing of economic models, to come up with an appropriate gas price.

“It is no cheap gas. It is competitively priced gas and is obviously no secret Dragon deal,” Khan said, adding that Venezuela has the largest oil reserves in the world, larger than Saudi Arabia, Russia, and the United States and has the fifth largest gas reserves in the world, which this country can benefit from.

“It’s a win-win situation, especially since we in Trinidad face challenges on the supply side,” he said, noting that Trinidad and Tobago has world-class gas infrastructure through which Venezuela can monetise its gas.

“This provides an ideal opportunity for Trinidad and Venezuela. If I can say so, I think it is a marriage made in heaven,” Khan said.

The Energy Minister told reporters that it is widely accepted within the energy sector that “the commercial terms of gas sales agreement are subject to the strictest confidentiality clauses.

“No government past or present, UNC or PNM (People’s National Movement), has ever made known to the public any negotiated price of gas,” Khan said.

Last Saturday, Prime Minister Dr. Keith Rowley and Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro signed the agreement allowing for the importation of natural gas from Caracas.

The terms of the agreement were between the National Gas Company (NGC), the Venezuelan NGC, Shell and the Venezuelan state-owned oil and natural gas company, Petróleos de Venezuela, S.A. (Petroleum of Venezuela).

“We may have been able to save our industry by getting a secure source of gas for the downstream sector. It may over time also allow us to look at the expansion of the downstream sector and investments there, as long as we can show investors we have a secured stream of gas,” Rowley told journalists.

He also revealed that the NGC has been able to negotiate a tranche of gas for power generation at an even lower price than the rest of the gas to be used by the petrochemical sector.

Rowley said the pipeline carrying the gas from Venezuela’s Dragon Gas field in Eastern Venezuela to Shell’s Hibiscus platform off the North Coast will be built and owned in a joint venture between the NGC and Shell Trinidad.

The estimated cost of the construction of the pipeline is over TT$1 billion.

The Dragon field is located within Venezuela’s maritime territory, just off the north-west coast of Trinidad.

It is close to the Hibiscus platform, jointly owned by the Trinidad and Tobago government and Shell.

Shell is also the operator of Dragon and Shell is also the helping the Trinidad and Tobago government develop and process gas from Loran-Manatee, which is off the south-east coast of Trinidad, and spans the maritime borders of Venezuela and Trinidad and Tobago.

The Loran-Manatee field has an estimated 10.25 trillion cubic feet of gas of which roughly 74 per cent belongs to Venezuela with 26 per cent belonging to Trinidad and Tobago.
Seven states in Venezuela are affected as the Orinoco River floods.