It was a pleasant sail over to Utila with the wind on our stern. The main harbour was easy to find but is protected by a long shallow sand bar at the entrance which required a wide swing. We anchored in 20 feet of water near the only town which consists of a couple of narrow streets bordering the harbour and a inland mangrove swamp. The two had a covid curfew which forced all business to shut down by 9 pm. From the boat we could hear the music from a few bars in town but precisely at 9 the town fell silent.

Utila.

Our first day we went ashore and rented a gas-powered gulf cart and took a tour of the island. We loved the feel of the community as the people were open and friendly. There were lots of nice restaurants with inexpensive food.  As Utila id a Mecca for divers, there were plenty of dive shops offering lessons and charters. Despite covid, there was a surprising number of tourist roaming about. We could have stayed …. Weeks! The island is on my “must revisit” list.

It was an overnight sail to the mouth of the Rio Dulce at Livingston so we would time our arrival to coincided with the Ebb High tide.  As we were told that we would need a tow over the bar, or more accurately , dragged over the bar, it was important to arrive with as much water under the boat as possible.  

We departed the harbour early in the morning to sail to her far west end of Utila where there were several small islands and reputed good diving. Again, we had a fast sail then found a place to tuck in behind a tiny tropical island with its own coral reef. The island was deserted at the moment but it did contain a small house which we would soon find out, was a rental property. Late in the day guests would show up and display their displeasure with having to share their lagoon with us. Jackie and I had a pleasant lunch and a magnificent snorkel on a coral reef second to none. Unfortunately, by sunset it was time to get underway so we could catch the flood tide at the Rio in two days.

The wind was strong, 18 to 20 knots off the stern so we poled out the big headsail while vanging the main boom to the rail. with a full main and the 100% genoa, a full moon off n the west, it was a fast wind and wing sail. It was a grand night but around midnight the wind dropped then shifted to the west, right onto our nose then increased to a full gale bringing with it a lighting storm the likes I have never seen before.   

The waves grew to several meters with hardly a breath between them. Maiatla was slamming into the waves which nearly brought us to a stand still. We could have laid a bit to gain some speed and put the waves more on the beam off but the offshore coral reefs of Belize were only a few miles off to starboard hiding in the dark, so I didn’t want to go that way. If I tacked to head south, it would take us towards the mainland Honduras, and its reputed pangas pirates. So that direction didn’t look good either so I decided to start the engine and with the sails still up, motor sail up into the wind and waves. It would be a wild night with no sleep. Despite the bashing we were making good headway, that is until the engine started to over heat. I throttled down the engine until she began to cool, then we carried on as there was little, I could do about the mother at 3 am, in the pitch of night during a gale.  The wind was surprisingly cool so I wrapped myself up in a blanket as I sat at the helm.

Shortly after sunrise the wind died and the clouds parted, treating us to a bit of warmth. We were only a couple of miles from Cabo Tres Punta which reaches out from the Guatemalan Mainland, forming the Bay of Honduras. And on the far side of this bay lay Livingston and the mouth of the Rio Dulce. We were about 18 hours early for our big high tide so we tucked in behind the point to find a place to anchor for the night.

 The shore was jungle lined but between the trees, we could see white-washed plantations and or homes of the wealthier of the locals, many with docks and pools. The bay was shallow on this side so we anchored about half a mile from shore in about 15 feet of water then settled in for the night.  16 months after departing Panama bound for Guatemala, we had finally made it to within five miles of the Rio, but if we thought all the trials and tribulations were over, we were about to get a rude awakening.

While Jackie was making diner, I put up the sun tarps to keep the brain-baking sun off of our heads But no sooner had I returned to the cockpit a massive thunderhead grew in the west and began to eject bolts continuous of lighting. The storm force winds and rain struck with such suddenness and forcer on Maiatla’s beam that I nearly fell off the cockpit bench seat. We immediately lost sight of the land as the visibility dropped to a coupe of boat lengths. I bolted to the deck with the intent of taking the tarps back down before they trashed themselves apart but before I could get a single one down, I noticed that we were now dragging out anchor and we were drifting fast and towards the unseen shore.

 I let the tarps to their fates and ran to the anchor windless to pay out more chain in and effort to increase the scope in hopes the anchor would bite into the bottom. The play worked, or well sort of. The Boats nose rounded back up into the wind and just when I though we were secure again the bow would fall off as it began to drag again. To help the ground tackle I ran back to the cockpit and started the engine and throttled up. The engine took the pressure of the anchor so I managed to keep the boat in one place. A check of the radar put us close to the beach and we were in 7 feet of water. For over an hour I played with the engine while watching to make sure we didn’t get any closers to the beach.

As fast as it came the wind died, the sky cleared and we were sitting on a clam sea once again. Jackie returned to her diner making and after moving the boat back out to deeper water, we ate in the cockpit under tarps that miraculously survived the storm.  

BY first light were off Livingston and the infamous sand Bar.  The sand is constantly shifting so the channel is not always easy to find. I had a compass heading provided by another cruiser so I was hopefully to find my way in without running hard aground. Fortunately, when we arrive, another sailboat was already shooting the bar. I called him on the radio and he told me that at the shallowest he had 6 inches under his keel. I would mimic his course in. But he gave a warning that while passing over the shallowest part, a small fishing boat tried to cut him off. He assumed that the boat was trying to run him out of the channel so he would get stuck and require an expensive tow.

I was told that the bottom was a soft mud so the trick was to keep your speed up and if your are luck you would “Plow “ your way through. A good strategy but with the engine over heating at high RPS, I was limited to abut 4 knots.  We made it over the bar just fine but like the boat in from of us, we had a fishing boat try to run us out of the channel, but I held my course, refusing to alter course as the 10 meter fishing boat cat past my bow and how we did not collide escapes me. We anchored in the river long enough to go ashore and clear in with our agent and customs then we had an impromptu tour of the town after meeting a local Youtube celebrity.

The town of Livingston look very interesting but we were warned not to spend the night anchored out in the river due to midnight boarding by local thieves.

Rescue Mission-Continued.

Despite having to deal with all the hassles of flying and crossing over international boards during the covid epidemic, our trip from Vancouver Canada to Roatan Honduras went well. All the people we encountered seemed to respect the protocols of mask wearing without much grumbling. We landed on Roatan after 12 hours of traveling and we were at the gates of Fantasy Island Marina by noon. I was excited about being back but also scared as to what we would find when I finally aboard our beloved Maiatla after being absent for 16 months.

Andy with Maiatla in the background shortly after getting back aboard.

Janet and I were last aboard in February of 2020. Jan and I flew home but planned to be back aboard by April, at which time we would complete our journey from Roatan Honduras, to Guatemala where a safe hurricane hole and shipyard awaited.  But unless you have been living under a rock for the past year and a half, you know that covid prevented our return putting our boat and home was in jeopardy. 

Under normal circumstances Roatan is a beautiful island and Fantasy Island is a great place to hang out. But these were not normal circumstances as the hurricane season was fast approaching and to make matters worse, the marina hotel closed its doors and shut off all the electricity and it would remain off for over 18 months.  The high humidity of the tropics rot boats from the inside out. To combat this, whenever we left Maiatla for the hurricane season I would leave big fans on timers to circulate the air as well as a dehumidifier to suck the moisture out of the boat preventing the growth of mold. I feared the mold as much as I did hurricanes.

Last year we watched helplessly as no less than three category 3 and 4 hurricanes passed by our island, one hurricane circled back to try and get a second crack at Maiatla, she survived but not unscathed. One nasty gale blew in from the west, whipping the anchorage into a frenzy with the waves tearing loose Maiatla’s dock. Maiatla was saved by some friends from south Africa, Tony and Robyn who had been keeping an eye on her for me. Still Maiatla suffered some good scrapes on the starboard side and stern.

As many who have boats in the hurricane belt know, my insurance was no good for damage or loss from a named or numbered storm so we were all on our own to cover any loss or damage. In our absence Tony and Robyn did there best to take care of Maiatla by replacing blown-away tarps and opening the boat up to air out, which helped. They also hired cleaners to wipe down the insides and when Tony checked the bilge, he found it to be full of an oily water. He then hired a mechanic to pump the boat and replace the failed bilge pumps. I’m sure without having our friends, Maiatla may have been lost.

Jackie giving Maiatla a much needed bath.

Upon my return, I was both relieved and shock when I saw Maiatla laying quietly along side the dock. She was quite a sight. Tarps placed over the boom were tattered, the deck was coved in dirt and debris from the nearby trees and her brightwork, the wood cap rails and window were peeling and nearly stripped of finish. The wood was burned and weathered grey form the tropical sun, the teak appearing as if suffering with some form of leprosy. I felt sick at what I saw but the worst was yet to come.

Over the following days I would discover that water had been leaking in several windows, the aft cabin ports in particular, rotting the teak paneling. The water continued on into the boat rotting out the port side of a transverse bulkhead. The water went on to the head where the countertop and shower wall was soak and rotten. I was able to push my hand right through the wall.

I quickly learned that my entire battery bank was shot and needed replacing before I could restore power to the boat.

After 18 months of not being run the engine scared me as I discovered that both alternators were seized up solid. Once freed I attempted to had crank the engine, thankfully she turned but not without giving me grief. As I would soon discover that one of the lifters was seized up solid and when I turned the engine over it bent a pushrod on number 3 cylinder. Luckily, I had three spar push rods in my supply of spare parts and after bending two more rods I managed to get the engine up and running.

Jackie taking a little snorkeling break in the deserted resort lagoon.

My sister Jackie and I spent two full weeks working full time cleaning and making repairs in an effort to get the boat sea worthy. (Well mostly seaworthy) which left us two weeks to sail the boat to Livingston Guatemala, cross the notorious bar and sail 22 miles up a jungle river to the Rio Dulce. Our return flights were already book out of Guatemala City so we had no time to waste.

Aside from the wood damage, metal parts of the boat had also succumbed to the corrosive effects of the tropics. While cleaning the hull one day, Jackie pulled on a lifeline only to have a turnbuckle securing it to the bow pulpit, snap off. Earlier that day I climbed up onto the mizzen boom to retrieve a halyard only to have a large stainless steel shackle snap in two, permitting the mizzen boom to fall, crashing right through my 100-watt solar panel mounted on the stern. All metal fittings would have to be inspected and were suspect.

When Janet I were last at Fantasy Island resort, the hotel and beaches were busy with vacationing tourist. A dozen or so cruising boats from all over the world were anchored in the lagoon and the docks were nearly full of more cruisers. It was a great place to be.  But now during covid the hotel was deserted and dark, the roads and walkways were covered in leaves and other debris, the pools were empty and debris filled. The only human activity was the presences of armed guards patrolling the property to prevent looting. With the people gone, the island’s flora and fauna had taken over. Hundreds of agouti, the large guineapig like creature were foraging through the underbrush and buildings.

Wild peacocks strutted about undeterred. Large iguanas roamed at will and capuchin monkeys claimed the hotel buildings, both inside and out as theirs. We had one particulate cute but mischievous monkey that liked to board Maiatla and it would attempt to steal whatever we had carelessly left about. Sunglasses and cameras were a favorite target. Robyn gave us a weapon with instructions to shoot if the monkey came within range.  The monkey quickly learned to flee at the first sight of the orange and blue squirt gun.  

During the two weeks prior to out intended departure date, Jackie and I treated ourselves to a little break and rented a car for the day with the express purpose of touring the west end of the island. The west End of Roatan is well known for its upscale homes and resorts located on a lagoon protected by a barrier reef of snorkeling renowned. 

We toured all drivable roads and some not so car friendly, in search of isolated swimming and snorkeling.  We even visited a rum distillery where we were treated to free samples, many samples in fact. From the hilltop distillery we had a clear view of the west end lagoon and offshore reefs. After seeing what lay before us, we decided that there was no way we could sail past here without stopping, even for just a day or two.

After two weeks it was time to head out. We planned on a short, day sail to the west end as a shakedown cruise. Anchor behind the reef for a couple of days then depart for the next island in the chain, Utila and again another day’s sail away.