DECEMBER 2019 TEXAN BAY, RIO DULCE, JOURNEY TO BELIZE

TEXAN BAY, RIO DULCE & JOURNEY TO PLACENCIA, BELIZE
19 – 22 DECEMBER 2019

The weather continued wet and drizzly. But the time had come, the tide had reached it’s optimum height for us to get across the sand bar. This would take two stages, a 10 mile motor down to Texan Bay where we would anchor overnight. We motored over nets set deep in the Rio’s waters. Along the river were traditional palm topped huts and expensive, modern styled, glass fronted dwellings. In the distance, the mist rose off the mountains and jungle expanses. We really love this part of the journey, it didn’t matter we were wet from the drizzle, and the weather gave us a new perspective of the Lake. A couple of hours later, we were once more in the familiar sheltered small Texan Bay. There was only two other boats in the bay, so we could pick our place. In the corner stood Texan Mike’s bar. Later that day, Maggie & Al, s/v Sweet Dreams arrived and together in the light drizzle they picked us up in their dinghy, motored the very short distance to Mikes and we had delicious queso (cheese) burgers and chips. For 6 beers, 2 burgers & chips inc a tip Q155, £15.50. Mike was glad to see us again and told us he was recovering from bronchitis. There’s a bug going round the area, as I write this late December from Belize, Terry and I are still recovering!
Maggie & Al were sailing on to Roatan, however an up to date forecast meant they had to delay by a few days, so the following day, they motored back to Ram Marina.
We had arranged with Mike for him to take us in his lancha, a fast open topped skiff, to Livingston. For Q300, £30, we could leave Sisu safely in Texan Bay, travel by lancha, where we would check out and Mike would then take us back.

At 8am, Mike and his gorgeous 4 year old son, arrived alongside Sisu in his lancha. We eased our way through mangrove alleyways, lined with flowering water lilies. Out in the open water of the Rio Dulce, which translates as “Sweet River” he opened her up! The Rio is amazing, filled with pelicans diving, cormorants, gulls, Herons, Egrets, Magnificent Frigates and so many other types of bird, diving and swooping for fish. The sides of the Rio rise steeply, three to four hundred feet, glimpses of the chalky gorge peek behind the walls of greenery and vines dropping into the river. It’s just stunning. The Rio twists and turns, new sights along the way, we were enclosed on both sides by this living wall of jungle and flowers. Pelicans roosted in branches, Herons haughtily stood guard at the river’s edge, waiting for passing fish. The birds know which part of the river is 90 foot deep and has a sea cave, here is where the fish gather, and it was a feeding frenzy! Lanchas would go past us, carrying locals and tourists, everyone waved at each other. We would bounce over the wakes of the lanchas, Mike’s son loved every minute. Mike said he always wants to come with him, so would we!
After a spine jiggling ride, we pulled into a jetty at Livingston. This jetty was a landing area for fishing boats and lanchas carrying crates, tubs and baskets of a variety of fish.

We were surprised at the size. Everyone was good humoured, there was much laughter, ribbing, sizing up catches amongst the activity of fish gutting and processing catches on the concrete tables under the corrugated roofed open fronted buildings alongside the jettys. So many Pelicans, young and mature, swam around in packs, waiting for scraps. Regularly, guys gutting fish would tip tubs of fish bits and water into the midst of the Pelicans. There would be a foray amongst the group. Bills would clash and wings would tangle as they scrabbled to scoop up fish leftovers. Overhead in the harbour area, Frigates would soar and dive into the Pelican groups, scavenging for what was left.

We went into the village of Livingston. It is regarded as not very safe here, but whilst we found the locals a bit more careful before saying Hola, we felt fine. The Servamar office where Raul and his staff are based deal with Immigration and Customs.

The office is above a square built pool of water, where people wash and do their laundry, it’s a communal and busy spot. We were welcomed in, and in a short space of time, we paid our fee, approx £60, received a free mug, and returned to Mike and his son. The weather had closed in. Dense rain was blowing through the River. We waited for it to clear then had a thrilling return trip back to Texan Bay!
That evening we decided to delay going across the bar till the following day, the 21st December. The forecast wasn’t good, and we were still full of the cold. We still had enough tide to cross on the 21st. That evening we lowered our dinghy and rowed to Mikes, for another delicious meal and meet a few of the locals. It’s a great spot, no wonder people arrive and never leave, it’s sheltered, food’s good, Mike is very welcoming and there’s usually something going on, what’s not to like!

21st December 2019. The forecast was 5/10 knots so we would probably be motoring to the Tres Puntas overnight anchorage. It was rain, rain, rain. We pulled up our anchor and motored through the 6 miles of the Rio Dulce gorges once more, the thrill of this journey never ceases. We dropped anchor at 12.30pm in the bay of Livingston at the mouth of the Rio and sat it out till 4.15pm.
At 4.15pm, we set off, Terry watched his chart plotter with our route from last season, I watched the depth. Incredibly, a dolphin rose and took breath, right along side us! I was torn between looking and keeping watch on the depth. I kept my eye on the depth, we never saw another dolphin the entire trip! Our depth dropped rapidly till it zeroed out. We kept motoring, now we were going over the sandbar, there was a slight touch, within a short space of time, which felt like hours, our depth quickly increased, we could breathe again!
Night falls quickly once the sun has set. We had an 11 nautical mile motor to Tres Puntas. We hadn’t been to this anchorage before, but the forecast was fine and we had charts. Dusk came, night fell, and we were motoring in small seas towards our anchorage. As we approached we realised that there was no shelter at the anchorage and the waves were too big for us to stay. As we motored out our engine revs dropped, without us touching the throttle, we looked at each other. The revs died and the engine stopped.
This was not good. We had no sail up, it had been a short distance and the forecast was for very light winds therefore the sails were not out, as we had motored all of the way. Looking back, we were still lousy with our colds, nevertheless we should have had some sail up. It was pitch black, we were on a lee shore, this means the wind is blowing us onto the shore, we had no engine and we were in unfamiliar territory at night. We had three choices, to sail to Belize, but that involved passing through unlit reefs in the dark. Sail to Roatan and try and fix the engine on route, again reefs were a problem. Or sail into a deserted pitch black bay at the base of Trez Puntas where an anchorage was shown in our Pilot book but not on the charts. The Pilot book showed rocks and shallow water either side of the entrance and although it was wide we could not see a thing. We could see specks of light on the shore, but where exactly was the anchorage? Praying that the charts were accurate we sailed very slowly for three miles into the bay and were happy when we had five metres under us to drop the anchor. It was scary, at times like this you just have to bite down fear and focus, especially in the circumstances we were in. Safe at anchor we exhaled, we kissed and hugged each other so hard. This was working as a team, we fall out, we bicker, but in these times, we work together, there is no option. There is, but we don’t consider it. She was rolling but not as heavily as before. Now, to find out what the problem was. Three hours later after totally turning the inside of the boat upside down Terry finally found that a small manual pump in the fuel system had blocked up and was not passing fuel. All the filters were full downstream so it looked as if fuel was available however the pump was totally blocked and creating a vacuum on the system starving the engine of fuel. A by pass was made by using a flexible pipe, the system bled and away she went. We ran the engine for half an hour and high throttle without problems

Dinner at midnight a quick clean up and off to sleep. A lie in until 07:00 in the morning another engine test, sails up and off we headed for Belize. A great wind full sail and 7 to 8 Knots for the next twenty miles reminded us what we love about sailing. Lesson , do not get complacent and always have a plan B & C and never forget Sisu is a sailing boat if in doubt sail.

NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 2019 RAM MARINA, DENNY’S BEACH, LAKE IZABAL

RAM MARINA, DENNYS BEACH, LAKE IZABAL
15 NOVEMBER –  12 DECEMBER 2019

Time to return to Sisu and wake her up. She’s been patiently waiting for us since May. During our absence, a dehumidifier has been extracting the humidity from her interior and Adan, one of the Ram Marina team has been checking on her regularly. We unlocked the padlock, and slid back the hatch, holding our breath…. And let our breath out again, she was fine. No mould at all. Adan would’ve let us know, but it’s good to see for ourselves that she’s bone dry. Apart from a full length crack in the formica wall in our heads (loo) which we were sure wasn’t there before, all was good. The heat and external conditions here are savage, far more destructive than at Curacao. The duck tape used to wrap around the winch covers has completely rotted, it’s a bugger trying to clean duck tape glue off metal work. Add it to the list. Our halyard pull throughs have lasted, so this time we can simply sew on the sail halyards, pull them up the mast, coax them over the roller at the top of the mast and gently pull them down the mast and out again. Inside Sisu is a shambles. Stuff everywhere, seat cushions stacked to let air circulate, all our clothes pulled out into small piles, again to avoid mould forming between clothes. Everywhere will need a wipe down to freshen. The sails are in their bags in the saloon. But this is just cosmetic. Terry will check over everything, engine, batteries, outboard, water maker etc. We stay in a room in a small house on the marina. It was bliss to leave the boat mid work, and have air conditioning to escape to in our bedroom. We find out after we’d left that apparently some people who’d stayed there previously had found, literally, by stepping on them, scorpions!!!! We never saw any, it was said they were under the bed (!!!) and in cupboards in the little kitchen. The couple who found the scorpions had stepped on them during a night trip to the loo. They were stung, of course, and suffered severe pain for a few days. We will probably be staying there when we return to lay up Sisu, and I have to say that in the two occasions we’ve stayed in the house, we’ve never seen any. Fingers crossed.
We are having some canvas work done by El Cerro Verde. A new sprayhood, bimini extension, hatch cover, dinghy chaps, and dinghy cover. We can get this work done here for a fraction of the cost of anywhere else. Elmer and his team arrive and fit a plastic template of the sprayhood, we’re having windows fitted with the centre window opening so we can shout to each other during anchoring and let a wind blow through the boat and cockpit. Their work is excellent and within a couple of weeks we have everything completed. Like decorating a room in a house, this new, immaculate, bright blue sprayhood, which matches the mainsail stackpack, makes the rest of Sisu look tatty. We resolve to finish painting the decks. We choose our day, too hot and the paint dries upon rolling it onto the roller. If it looks likes rain later, that will knacker our paintwork. We choose a day, I mask each section, Terry mixes the grit and pale grey/blue paint, and together we go for it! She looks fab, now the varnish inside looks tired………
Another satisfying job is painting a fresh water line. Again, choose the day, we’ve had mixed weather for a while, we grab the opportunity, mask all around her hull, and quickly paint 3 coats of antifoul, in blue, and complete the job in a day and a half. When baking, licking the bowl is always a treat, it’s the same with peeling off masking tape, it’s a bit of a scuffle who’ll get to peel off the tape from the decks and hull. Trying to get a continuous strip of tape is amazingly satisfying, so we share the job!
Bit by bit, she becomes a boat. Sails on, sheets, halyards, de clutter, find stuff, lose stuff, provision up. We launch her on the 30th November and once more she’s afloat! We base ourselves on a marina pontoon to continue jobs, catch up with rally friends from last season and make new friends also working on their boats in the marina.
We’re going to be here for a while waiting for the full moon and a high tide which will enable us to cross the sandbar at the mouth of the Rio Dulce. We decide to have a mini shake down sail/motor and head up Lake Izabal for a break and explore the coastline of the biggest freshwater lake in the country, 26 feet above sea level, 30 miles long, 15 miles wide and a maximum depth of 59 feet. Jeff and Diane, friends of ours have recommended calling in at Denny’s beach, ten miles east of Castillo San Felipe, off Punta Brava village.
We motor under the bridge which spans the river connecting both sides of Frontera town. There’s plenty of head space above the mast, but nevertheless, it’s impressive going underneath the bridge, hearing the massive trucks hissing their air brakes!
Flocks of cormorants gather on the lake’s surface, we’ve never seen so many. At home, these blue black sea birds are a regular feature of our harbours and shore lines, here, there are simply too many to count. The air becomes a black flapping mass as they take off and land together.
There’s no wind to sail, so we motor past Castillo San Felipe, built in the 16th & 17th centuries to protect the Spanish caravans from raiding British buccaneers.
Out into the belly of the lake, we realise we have stopped. Are we aground? The depths vary, but not that to that point. We look over the stern. To our dismay, we see a trailing end of a thin nylon rope and some small, rough floats. We had kept an eye out as we motored. Floats can consist of virtually transparent containers and plastic bottles, you don’t see them till you go past. In our case, we were upon these invisible floats before we could take action. The prop let us know we were caught. It’s a sickening noise. We got the fish hook, and hauled up a length of line which was trailing from the prop, using it as an anchor to hold us fast while we investigated. I say we. It was Terry who went over the side with a snorkel and mask to see how fast we were caught. Fortunately, as we were going slowly, Terry was able to remove the line. We really don’t like to break lines, the fishermen have a tough enough job fishing every day. Looking at the state of the line and what was left of a net, we think this was an old line, and we just happened to be in the wrong place. The water was warm however, and we set off once again, keeping an even closer eye out!
After a couple of hours, we found Denny’s Beach, dropped our anchor and went straight over for a swim! Bliss!!
Back at the Marina, we were in the May fly season, yes, it’s now December, do mayflys have calenders? Clearly not. The buggers had followed us, I was trying to cook an omelette that evening whilst thrashing mayflys away from the hob. They do no harm, but next morning, thousands of Mayfly bodies are stuck to the decks and in the cockpit. I finish off the net bug screens I’d started at the Marina, success! No more meals with added protein!
That first night, we had a wind funnelling down the lake, causing a heavy roling swell. We and the other 4 boats rolled all night. Like we said, we needed the break from the Marina……..
Fortunately, that was the only rolly night. Ashore we made friends with the other boats and after delicious burritos and beers, Q107, £10 at Denny’s we exchanged information whilst watching our bonfire on the beach.
Each morning and throughout the day we are kept company by Housemartin type birds. They are bold and chirrup to each other constantly, sitting close by us on the guard wires. They are an absolute joy and we nickname them, a little group of 6 birds, The Cheeps.
For the last seasons, we are now in our fourth, for showering, we would use a hose, garden shower head and hoist a water filled container up the mast. This season, we’ve decided to even less tech. Using 3 quart size squishy water bottles, we fill them with fresh water, stick ‘em in the cockpit and find that 2 and a bit from the 3rd bottles is more than enough for washing my hair, and showering us both. Result, no more lugging containers from the heads, up the steps, along the deck and up the mast. We didn’t mind doing this, but any daily routine that can be simplified is welcomed, especially when we pack up to sail anywhere.
We can go on a pony trek from Denny’s beach for Q150, £15 for a 2 and a half trek over the hills, let’s go for it! One morning, Leno, our lean, leathery and very flexible 80 year old Guatemalan guide arrives on his beautiful, glossy and lively pony. Terry climbs aboard his pony called Palomino, and indeed he is just that. I haul my athritic right hip over my pony, called Pinto, and settle into the western style saddle. The stirrup leathers are just slightly too long, they can’t be changed, I know it’s going to hurt, but I love the opportunity to be back on horseback so grit my teeth. Leno leads us along the shoreline, under trees, waving his machete around his head, hacking off branches to make it easier for us following. We wade into the river, around a jetty, and back onto the track, we ride through the village. Leno sings to himself, he’s at one with his pony. We ride past a sugar cane field, and through the middle of a bamboo forest. The height and width of the bamboo is massive, we don’t want to see the Pandas! Through rivers and up narrow tracks we climb. Through coffee bushes, upwards, the ponys picking their way. At the top of the hill, we can dismount, or in my case, Terry catches me as I drag myself off and stretch my sore hip. Leno, squats and jumps, squats and jumps. He’s try8ng to help by showing me how to ease my hip. Our Spanish doesn’t extend to “she’s had one hip done, it’s great, but the right hip is goosed”. I let him think I’m just a middle aged woman…. The view is astounding, right over the Lake and surrounding, distant mountains. So much greenery, forest and jungle. Spreading over the mountains is a dense grey moving blanket of rain. We can see it sweeping up the Lake. We take photos and climb back on our ponys, we have further to climb and more to see. The rain burst reaches us, and within seconds we are utterly drenched! We seek some shelter and share our family background. Leno has 7 children and some grandchildren. No wonder he’s fit. But it’s warm and once the rain passes, we begin to steam and dry out. We begin to descend, leaning back so the ponys can get a good purchase on the loose soil. Once we reach the level trail back to the village of Punta Brava, Leno tries to shivvy them on. It’s like smacking an elephant with a tooth pick. Our ponys know that this trek takes two and a half hours. They pace it out regularly. They are tough local ponys. They flick their ears and continue their steady plod. I love a trot or a canter, but my hip is aching so I’m quite relieved, for once, not to go faster. We reach Denny’s once more and Leno leaps off. Terry dismounts. I try but my hip has locked. Damnation! I am mid dismount, but my hip simply won’t do the full rotation to lift me over the saddle. To the amusement of Leno, and disdain of Pinto, Terry has to literally haul me off! It’s agony but hilarious, a totally ridiculous situation! We thank Leno, he was excellent and what a superb way to see the landscape of this area. After a beer and painkillers, I feel better. A bit achey for a couple of days, but worth it.
Terry realised he lost his sunglasses whilst up on the hills. He knows exactly where, it was when he was helping me to dismount the first time. How come it’s my fault! The following day we hike up the route. It’ll do my hip good to keep it mobile and also give us an opportunity to see the bamboo forest once more. Up on top, after a brief exploration we find them!
On another trail along the beach, we came across a local family making a bamboo fence. We exchanged Hola’s and the father of the group asked us, in English, where we came from. We had an interesting Spanish/English chat with the whole family, including the very young grandchild of one of their sons. As we began to leave, the father went into a small construction they were building which was below their main house. He came out with a bag of nuts, and gave them to us. “You must have something to go with your beers this evening!”. They were so kind, we’ve found that here, people are so willing to speak and help us. We returned the following day with some pencils we’d brought from the Isle of Man, a gift for the grandchildren.
Time to head back. We had thoroughly enjoyed our time here, Denny’s Beach bar and little hotel was a friendly, laid back place with great food and gave us the break we wanted.
Back at Ram, we tied up to the pontoon. Before leaving the Marina, I needed a haircut. Always a risky business whilst sailing. Last season I had an albeit super haircut in the San Blas Islands, a very short crop which I’ve kept. We found a hairdresser in Frontera, and sat in front of the mirror, completely obscured by a large red and green Christmas Pointsetia I showed the friendly hairdresser a photo from my iphone. For Q35, £3.50 she did a great job, considering I couldn’t see it till she’d finished!
Over the next few wet and windy days, spending time with good friends, and provisioning, there’s never enough beer and veg, we waited for the full moon and the high tide.