From the moment I heard about this unlikely sailing destination tucked away in steamy jungles of Latin America, I was hooked. Howler monkeys patrol the forest canopy, and culture is spread thick across the land. The descriptions of the jungle, the people, the animals, the community, all of it painted a picture of our future in the Rio Dulce.
We happily stepped into the canvas. For us, sailing is all about the destination. But since we can’t actually step into a painted canvas of our vision of the future, how do we make our dreams come true? For some of us, we get on a plane. Like our friend Captain Stan says, “Nothing goes to windward like a 747.” But for others of us, we’ve chosen the slower, sweatier, saltier method of voyaging by sailboat. Having already chosen the slowest means of transportation possible, why in the world would we then choose to go the long way to Rio Dulce?
The Windward Passage or the Shorter Route from Florida.
From Florida, the route to Guatemala can be done in under 800 nautical miles. From Great Inagua, the southern most tip of the Bahamas, it’s closer to 1400 miles. And that’s not all of it, you also have to get to great Inagua, which involves as least 2 overnighters, one from the southern Exumas (we left from Georgetown) to Long Island. And from the tip of Long Island to Acklins, and from Acklins down to the Crookeds, and from there it is a solid over nighter to Great Inagua. And then you get to go another 1350 nautical miles to the Rio. So, why, why would we choose to go the distance?
If theres anything I’ve learned during my sailing tenure, it’s this: the point of sail is more than just a point. It can be a guiding light that will either take you towards your Carribean dreams, or if it’s a bad point of sail, it can lead you towards the nearest marina in Florida where you will be hauling your boat on blocks for what you tell yourself will only be one season on the hard. (We all know how long that ends up really being.) I have been nose to the wind and waves, bouncing along on that broken carnival ride .. and frankly, I just don’t like it. It puts my nervous system on high alert, and makes my whole body ache with tension. It can also beat up your boat, or break it entirely. My husband doesn’t mind it so much, but I’m not ashamed to admit that uncomfortable sailing can be scary. Sometimes I think there’s an unspoken rule about blue water sailors: that we all have to be fearless seamen that laugh maniacally at lightening squalls and smile in the rain. The truth doesn’t usually play out like that. What I see more often than not are fights breaking out among couples elevating in direct proportion to the sea state.
We chose the long, easy way to Guatemala.
The Gulf Stream: a Rough Map
The sail from Florida to the Rio Dulce can quickly turn into that broken carnival bucket ride that we all love to hate. The Gulf Stream is a fickle beast, but unlike the quick jump to the Bahamas, she must be traversed more than once on the route from Florida to the Rio.
A few years ago we took this route from Florida to Isla Mujeres on a friend’s 40 foot sailing catamaran. The boat didn’t have engines (except for parking the boat). Once we were past the Tortugas, the wind died down and the current picked up. Without sufficient wind to power the sails enough to counter the current, we acquired a healthy respect for the stream real fast. Any cruisers headed to the Bahamas are well aware, cautious and wary of the Gulf Stream crossing. But that is nothing compared to the Gulf Stream encounters you will meet trying to get to Belize or the Rio Dulce from Florida.
Windy App
Here in this photo of Windy App’s current modules, you can see the serpentine shape of the stream as it traverses along Mexico and zig zags its way up past Florida. If you look closer you will also see counter currents and other forces that need to be understood. Along Mexico the stream is at its most perilous state. You will be going south in direct opposition to a 3-5 knot current. The trade winds will kick up that current doing god knows what to the sea state as you trudge along south towards Belize.
For me personally, it’s a lot to try and understand, and then predict, and then avoid.
On the other side of the coin lies the Windward Passage. It is much longer, but allow me to paint a picture here: Sailing the windward passage is like taking a large couch into the sunset, with the wind and the waves gently pushing you along the scenery for a few days of iconic downwind sailing. It’s so picturesque and comfortably cozy, you may even forget that the sea state ever did you wrong. We are a family of 4, with two kids under 6. Of course we chose the long way. Cleaning up two kids worth of puke is enough to make that decision for us.
Great Inagua to Jamaica
The passage on the first big leg of our journey was 235 nautical miles from Great Inagua in the Bahamas to Port Antonio, Jamaica. Our forecast predicted some favorable winds, but instead we were met with absolutely no wind. We motored all the way to Errol Flynn Marina.
We spent two nights on water so calm we could have walked across it. You could see the flying fish skipping across the mirror of water until they disappeared into the blue horizon. The scene felt more like something out of a desert than a watery landscape.
Heavily Trafficked
While we waited in Inagua to begin our journey southwest, we witnessed Caribbean sailing at its finest as a Haitian sailing sloop took up anchorage next to our boat. On one hand it was a beautiful and timeless thing to witness as they sailed without a motor in an antique vessel, on the other it was a stark reminder that these Caribbean waters are frequented by pirates. One thing many sailors do is turn their AIS on ghost mode as they pass through these waters. With this feature you can still see others on your radar, but they can’t see you. We didn’t encounter any questionable vessels on the water, but we did encounter a lot of really big boats. If you’ve sailed over night on a passage to anywhere, you know the feeling of being out in the darkness speckled by stars above you and reflecting on the water below you. It’s infinitely beautiful. It also plucks you out from under that security bubble you didn’t even know existed. It’s the most vulnerable feeling. But it’s epic, vivid and worth a thousand other more comfortable memories. When you see that cruise ship sail by, lit up with a thousand electrical impulses and twice as many cozy, comfortable, safe, and tipsy passengers on board, it comes on a platter of mixed emotions.
On one hand, my tired, cold and dizzy self would do just about anything for a crystal glass full of bubbly served under a glimmering chandelier in the warm yellow light of safety, security, and comfort. On the other hand, I’m wondering why this monstrosity of steel just turned right for us, decreasing our closest point of acquisition to 50 feet. I could write my name on the side of their boat at that distance. Hailing them on the radio does no good, “Celebrity of the Sea” or whatever their name was, doesn’t answer. So we do an annoying awkward dance with Goliath as we turn this way and then turn that way until we finally align on a course that doesn’t collide. This happened a few times our trip. It doesn’t matter how big the ocean is, it gets really small when you have to share it with a 900 foot building.
Port Antonio
Another reason to go the long way: Port Antonio. Still my favorite destination, on the boat, off the boat, it’s my favorite place anywhere. I don’t understand why Jamaica isn’t on more cruisers’ radar. It’s a bold and beautiful raw gem of the Caribbean.
After 3 days of open ocean sailing, Jamaica began to creep over the horizon. Port Antonio’s green and blue mountains rose up into the clouds with rugged lines and earthy smells.
It was a picturesque landing. Great Frigates, Egrets, and Terns soar along the harbor where Eroll Flynn Marina sits nestled and protected on Port Antonio’s waterfront. A week wasn’t long enough to spend in this magical place full of culture, color and incredible food.
Clearing into Jamaica
The process of clearing into Jamaica was a bit complex. 3 different sets of people boarded our boat. The country is very protective of their harbors, and they won’t let any boats dump their holding tanks into their clear blue waters. Honestly, I’m surprised more popular sailing destinations don’t do the same. I remember sitting in the harbor at Georgetown, in the Exumas with about 350 other boats. We were listening to the morning cruisers net on 68 when someone asked when the pump put boats come round to clean out the holding tanks in the harbor. His question was met with a hilarious long and awkward silence. About 349 other boats were all laughing on the other end of their radios. In Jamaica, officials came on board to search the vessel and inspect our toilet situation. They wanted to see the toilet, the tank, holding tanks, all to ensure that the harbor stays clean. For us it was no big deal. But I’m sure for many sailors it could really cramp their style. If you have any questions about sailing into Jamaica, the Jamaica One Love Cruisers Group Facebook Page will answer them all.
Two officers came aboard as a part of the long clearing in process.
They were so kind and accommodating that we exchanged information. Officer George showed us Jamaica the next day, and took us to the blue mountains where we toured a coffee plantation and tasted the best coffee in the world.
George runs a side company as a tour guide, and I can’t say enough about him! He was kind, accommodating, and full of interesting facts and cultural insight into Jamaica.
George’s Tour Company on Facebook and his Whats App: +1 (876) 204-7022
Officer Conrad invited us to his farm a few days after meeting him. We spent the morning around a fire while he prepared and cooked the best meal of my life: Jamaican curry chicken. The farm was equipped with edible plants, fruits, vegetables, spices, and a fire pit to cook on. We sat on the ground and ate pineapple and coconuts while the corn, yams and chicken cooked. Hashtag best day ever.
Conrad’s cooking opened a little window into a world where food is so much more than the simple act of eating. We spent almost an entire day around the food while it cooked, exploring the land around the farm, listening to the sounds of the birds, and watching Conrad’s family casually care for the land with tender care.
Jamaica to Honduras
For the second to last leg of the journey, I’ll keep it brief. Adam, my husband, actually did the trip without the kids and I. Someone needed to fly home to find a new dog sitter, and Adam wanted some time to sail the boat without worrying about the kids (or cleaning up their puke). Adam sailed with crew from Port Antonio, non stop along the northern coast and all the way down to the Bay Islands of Honduras. They were directly downwind the entire way, and chose to fly the jib alone. One night the winds picked up to 35 for a brief interlude, and after that it was smooth and boring all the way to Guanaja. With just the jib, it was 7 days of open ocean sailing.
The Bay Islands of Honduras
The Bay Islands are an incredible sailing destination for cruisers. I flew with the kids to meet Adam in Roatán. I missed Guanaja unfortunately, and heard nothing but lovely things about the town. Roatan, the middle of the Bay Islands, is a little more frequented, and a little less safe. There are certain places you do not want to leave your boat. We had a friend who was robbed at gunpoint on his sailboat in Roatan. He anchored in a place where there were no other boats (not ideal in these parts of the world) and found out afterwards that it’s specifically marked as an anchorage to avoid in the guide books.
After a night in Roatan we sailed 30+ miles to Utila, the western island, in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the whale sharks. We went to the Whale Shark and Oceanic Research Center and learned to our dismay that this was the first year they hadn’t seen the whale sharks in 6 months. Utila is known for being the only place where whale sharks can be found year round. Until now. Things are changing in our oceans, and every animal is feeling the affects. I did however, swim amoungst the healthiest coral I’ve seen in all our travels in the Caribbean
Sailing to Rio Dulce from Utila
The last leg of our journey was a mere 120 miles give or take, from Utila. Like the rest of the trip, it was easy peasy with gently following seas and light wind. I did however get quite a bit more sea sick on this leg than the others. I’ve noticed that when the wind is on our quarter, it just rocks my equilibrium and makes me want to puke almost constantly. We all felt it, making this last leg the longest of them all.
We were all smelling the barn at this point. And as the Rio came into view, we were filled with a sense of accomplishment and finality.
Clearing into Guatemala is also a lengthy process, possibly even more complex than Jamaica. We used a travel agent named Raul. He’s highly recommended among all the cruisers, and makes it SO easy.
Livingston is the town where cruisers arrive to clear in. It’s okay to anchor there to clear in, but it’s not okay to anchor there overnight. If you arrive too early or too late you will want to anchor farther out, away from the town. The locals will swim out to your boat at night if you’re anchored outside Livingston.
If you draw more than 5 feet, you need to wait for a high tide, or be “tilted” by Horacio. It’s a common undertaking and many boats go through the ordeal to get over the bars at the entrance of the Rio. If you use Raul to clear in, simply text him (or call him on 16 on the radio) that you need Horacio to get over the bars.
We texted Raul on What’s app +502 5510 9104 the day before so he was ready for us. After we arrived, he came to our boat with all the necessary agents on board, and we handed him the documents he needed. Then we dinghied to shore where Raul pre-appointed a local to watch our dinghy for us while we ran errands and walked around a bit waiting to retrieve our documents from Raul’s office. If you need to change money at the bank, get there early and expect to stay late. The lines are long and they move slowly. The exchange rate is 7.5 Quetzales to one dollar. The locals only get 7, so you won’t get the same price if you pay the locals in dollars.
The clearing in took a few hours, but we had just enough time to make the long awaited sail into the canyons of the Rio Dulce before dark.
This picturesque scenery of the entrance into the Rio is enough to give me goose bumps just thinking about it. The cliffs rise up hundreds of feet on either side of the muddy waters of the river. Local fisherman cast nets from their canoes and water birds of various species speckle the horizon in flocks of white.
The Jungle lines the riverbanks with greenery and the unmistakable sound of cicadas and parakeets.
After 3 hours of sailing up the river, we arrived in the town of Fronterras, although few call it by that name, being known mainly as Rio Dulce.
There are literally dozens of Marinas that line the river for miles. We narrowed it down to 3:
Tijax: for the community vibe, jungle scenery, and most of all for the trails accessible from the marina.
Nanajuana: known as the “kid marina,” and has the most beautiful grounds I’ve seen here. Gorgeous, but in order to attain that they cut down most of the trees, and there’s a lot of open ground for the sun to beat down and literally melt you into a puddle.
Mar: most people recommended this place, lovely owner, great community and easy access to town.
Resources for Cruisers Preparing to Sail to Rio Dulce:
Guidebook: This is the book you want!
Facebook Page: The Rio Dulce Cruisers Facebook Page
Charts: Navionics + has the most up to date charts of the Caribbean areas outside the Bahamas.
Weather: We use Chris Parker for detailed weather forecasts, Predict Wind for daily models, and Windy for currents.
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