ROLLING DOWN THE RIVER

            Rio Dulce (Sweet River) has its origin in Lake Izabal.  Shortly after it leaves the lake, it passes a small fortification, Castillo San Felipe de Lara.

  Built by the Spanish to protect against pirates who came up the river from the Caribbean, the fortress has a long and interesting history.  A tower was built on the site in the mid 16^th century.  The tower was destroyed in 1604 and the fortress was rebuilt in 1651.  Over time, the Castillo was used as a prison, severely damaged by pirates many times and finally was completely reconstructed in 1955.  The site is now a national park.

            Shortly after flowing past the Castillo, the river passes beneath one of the longest bridges in Central America. 

On one side of the river is the small town of Fronteras, commonly known as Rio Dulce.  The town is an important market city for the area.  Inhabitants of the surrounding countryside come to its well stocked fruit and vegetable market.  They come paddling Cayucos (dugout canoes) or in outboard powered lanchas.  Large lanchas serve as riverine buses, carrying workers and tourists to and fro.

  The town also boasts numerous marinas frequented by cruising sailboats from all over the world.  Large numbers of boats, sail and power anchor in the large bay.

            On its way to the ocean the river flows into a long, narrow lake, el Golfete.  Ten miles long and a couple of miles wide, the lake provides numerous inlets from creeks and quiet coves that provide wonderful anchorages.

            Fishing is an important part of the local economy.  A statue was erected beneath the bridge in honor of the fisherman and expresses the feeling of the local population.  As you travel along the river, you will see fishermen stringing seine nets perhaps a couple of hundred feet long.  Others cast their purse nets from dugout canoes.

            Along the banks of the river are thatched roof homes built half on the shore and half on stilts in the river. 

Since there are no roads, getting around requires boats and every home has at least one.   Docks in front of the houses provide berth for lanchas and Cayucos, even paddle boards. 

Learning to handle boats starts at a young age. Public facilities such as “Laundromats” require a long boat ride to Livingston or Fronteras.  Riparian laundry facilities are conveniently located right in front of the houses, in the river.

            Shortly after exiting el Golfete, the river passes through a spectacular gorge whose cliffs tower 300 feet above the water. 

The dense jungle on either side of the river is filled with teak, mahogany and palm trees.  It is home to howler monkeys, a huge assortment of birds and flowers.

            Twenty-seven miles from its origin in Lake Izabal, Rio Dulce spills into the Caribbean Sea.  At the mouth of the river is the unique town of Livingston.  Standing on the beach, you can see Belize just a few miles to the north and Honduras a bit further to the south.  Livingston is accessible only by water and the town’s docks are filled with lanchas, dugouts, and power boats.  A sailboat or two may be anchored just off shore.  Like Fronteras 27 miles away, it’s a busy town. 

In a region where the only access to consumer goods is by water, it provides the necessities of life.  Like other centers of commerce around the world, Livingston is home to haves and have nots.

  I was impressed by public projects that encouraged the production of murals to beautify public spaces.

            The town is home to a Garifuna population.  The Garifunas are descendants of the Caribs and African slaves from the Caribbean island of St Vincent.  After being deported to Roanoke off the coast of Honduras, they spread to Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala and Belize on the mainland.  They have their own language based on Arawak with English and Spanish mixed in.  Their culture draws greatly on their African heritage and is understandably different from the dominant Mayan culture that surrounds them.

ANOTHER NOW OR NEVER MOMENT

            So we jumped ship in Indiantown—left the boat on the hard.  Problems?  We’ll deal with them next winter.  We left the boat wearing shorts and T-shirts.  When we crossed the state line between Tennessee and Kentucky, we found snow flurries.  We got home and the Forsythia was blooming.  So, was Kathleen right that there would be 3 snows after the Forsythia?  After the second snowfall we decided not to find out.  We had a “Now or Never” moment and accepted an offer from friends to join them in Guatemala.  Susan and Derek (s/v Panacea) were spending time in Rio Dulce on Derek’s son’s boat.  Derek’s son, Tristan, and his girlfriend Claire had recently bought the 47 foot Morgan, Panacea 2.

            Twelve hours after the “Now or Never” moment we stepped into the thick humid air of Central America.  Guatemala City is 175 miles from Rio Dulce.  We were a bit apprehensive about the 6 hour bus trip.  We could just picture sharing space with chickens and goats on a bus that stops everywhere for anybody and has no maximum capacity.  What a surprise!  We had comfortable, reserved and assigned sets on a modern air-conditioned coach with . . .Wifi!  Unbelievable.

           

Rio Dulce is a river town.  Parts of it are accessible only by water.  People get from place to place in lanchas, big fiberglass boats that the pilot runs at full speed.  There is no such thing as a “no wake” zone. 

At night, very few lanchas have running lights.  The river here is very wide and offers many bays and is a great draw for boaters from all over the world seeking protection during hurricane season or just a nice laid back place to spend time.

  Panacea 2 was berthed at Nana Juana marina, a relatively small marina associated with a resort, complete with swimming pool.

            The main street in town is choked with traffic—cars, tanker trucks, buses, motorcycles, three wheeled “tuk-tuks” that serve as taxis.  Pedestrians fill the gaps between vehicles and shops and vendors spill out into the street.  Huge speakers announce wares at full volume.  Mayan women in colorful skirts and blouses mingle with others wearing T-shirts sporting the logos of Emirates Airlines, American universities and FDNY.

            The variety of fruit and vegetables is incredible; fresh broccoli, cauliflower, carrots the size of baseball bats, perfectly ripe papayas and pineapples.  There are whole truckloads of mangoes and melons. 

We could buy those tiny perfumed limes that taste so good in a rum punch.  Cut fruits, pineapple, watermelon, papaya and mango are sold in plastic sleeves and cups, sprinkled with lime juice and chili powder.

Pollo y papas (fried chicken and potatoes) must be the national dish because shops and stands offering that dish are strung along the street every few feet and the air is heavy with the smell of rancid oil and frying chicken.  I don’t care if I never smell fried chicken again!

            The people in Guatemala are some of the most open, hospitable people in the world.  They seemed genuinely interested in trying to help us where ever we went.  As in other places in Latin America, family is the central feature of life. 

We were in Rio Dulce during Semana Santa, Holy Week, the single biggest holiday of the year.  Whole families came from the big city to relax in Rio Dulce for the week.  By whole families, I mean mother, mother, grandmother, grandfather and babies.  It was refreshing to see fathers sharing the responsibility of child rearing.  It’s not unusual to see a man carrying the baby.

As if there wasn't enough entertainment just walking down the street . . .

            Oh, and by the way, there was a third snowfall back home!  But the tropics spared us

           

FOR THE BIRDS!

           

             We rated our winter boat trip pretty much a “bust.” First of all, last year’s hurricane season wiped out our Caribbean cruising plans.  Then, we both came down with the flu and jumped ship in Gulfport to spend 5 days in a cheap (read, “run down dump”) hotel.  Finally back on board, we left the marina to anchor out just off the main street in Gulfport, a truly great location.  Then the troubles began.  Our house batteries wouldn’t keep the fridge running all night.  Everything was OK as long as the sun was shining or the engine running. We decided to toss caution to the wind and head for Ft Myers Beach.  The trip down was an easy trip—flat seas and light to non-existent winds. 

Great anchorage offshore in the Gulf.  Only problem, the engine battery didn’t always provide power to turn the starter until we had an hour or two of sunshine.  We got a mooring ball at Ft Myers Beach and deployed the dinghy and looked forward to a pleasant reprieve from our troubles.  The dinghy motor which had started on the second pull when it was on the stern pulpit refused to run in the water!  Cleaned gas lines and carburetor and thought we fixed it, but still no go.  We bummed a ride from friends (Mark and Patty on s/v Tumbleweed) into shore to check in for the mooring ball.  Dinghyless, we decided to head for Indiantown on the Okeechobee.  It was really a nice trip, but we weren’t in the mood to enjoy it.  So yeah, the trip was a bust, “for the birds”.

            We did see lots of birds.  It began while we were still in the pod and watched a pair of bald eagles hunt and feed.  There was a cormorant that came everyday to the marina to dry its feathers or cool off or whatever.  An egret visited one of the boats on our dock.  We saw plenty more of them on the Waterway.  Ospreys were everywhere.  It was nesting season so we saw them carrying nesting materials to their nests on platforms atop tall poles.

            So, yeah, a bust!  But, as they say, a bad day on the water is better than a good day anywhere else.” We left the boat on the hard at Indiantown and headed for Kentucky—BRRRR! We got home and the forsythia was in bloom.  Kathleen said that in Ohio they say, “Three snows after the forsythia.”  I’d never heard that but sure enough, we saw 2 snows before we escaped again and a third snow fell—in March! Really?