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.