DandY South: Sailing - Rio Dulce, Guatemala to Bay Islands, Honduras

While in Rio Dulce we heard that it is possible to sail from Rio Dulce (where we were living at the orphanage) to the Bay Islands of Honduras (just off the Caribbean coast of Honduras). About 100 miles.

The Following is how it all went down:

There's a bar/marina in Rio Dulce named Bruno's. It's basically were ex-pats (Texans and other Countries) come to retire, drink, and live on their boats. So, we stopped by Bruno's asking around to hitch a ride to the Bay Islands and we put out announcements on the CB radio news, but neither seemed to work. After checking with Bruno's one more time, and still coming up short, we stopped to ask an ex-pat boat mechanic if he had any ideas. He recommend that we join an on-line forum that all the sailers use in Rio Dulce area. HA, image that. Old sailors using and on-line forum! I thought for sure it was a lost cause.

I made a connection through the forum that led us to Pony Tail John, Walter, and Willy. Pony Tail, a 70 something year old ex-American that made a lot of "dirty money", spent time in jail, retired, bought an 80 foot yacht, lost his yacht in hurricane Katrina, and moved to retire boat-less in Rio Dulce. Walter is "the best damn diesel mechanic" anybody knows. He's around 45 years old, from Germany had has been floating around Central America fixing diesel boat engines for the past 20 some years. Willy is an ex-business suit American, who sold the family business to take part in a slower, but pretty damn thrilling life.

We approached Walter and Willy while they were sitting having a cigarette and a rum at Bruno's.

"Um, I'm looking for Walter or Willy"

"Boats full!"

"OK, hmm."

I guess we aren't going to go sailing after all. They continued to mumble some sailor gibberish.

"I think Tip is going with us, and I'm pretty sure he needs a crew."

"Who's Tip?"

"Last boat on the left, just yell at 'em."

"Cool, thanks."

So we walked down the dock, found the last boat on the left, which seemed like it hadn't been out to sea in some time. Just a bit cluttered to say the least.

"Uh, Tip!" I shouted.

"What? Come a board." We heard.

We stepped on deck the 37 ft Coup di Vent and continued down to the cabin. It was filled with smoke and smelled like booze. At the table sat Tip. A 74 year old ex-American Navy helicopter pilot. I explained that I could do whatever needed to be done on the boat, and Yasmin is a sweet strong girl. He agreed to give us a lift to Utila, Bay Islands, Honduras.

Great got a ride!

Due to the Eastern winds and the fact that the Bay Islands lay directly east of where the Rio Dulce let's out into the Caribbean, we needed to motor the whole way. Within the first forty-five minute of motoring down the river I heard and smelt something funny. Not good. So, I told Tip, who can't see, hear, or smell much of anything. He stopped the boat.

"Yep sonny, blew a belt!"

"OK, do you have an extra?"

"Yeah, somewhere around here."

After tearing apart the inside of the boat, he found the belt. And guess who got to replace it?

Motor cranked right up and we were well on our way. Smooth sailing from here on out. That's what I thought.

Once in the Caribbean, the swells were 4 to 6 feet and the nose of the boat must have been jumping at LEAST 15 feet in the air...at least! To make it to Utila we needed to sail over 100 miles at an average of 4 knots an hour. That would put us in at a speedy 30 hours, which meant sailing though the night, which meant taking turns at the tiller. Not so bad considering there was three of us. However, poor Yasmin got sea sick an hour into the Caribbean sea, which put her in the fetal position for the remainder of the trip.

I took the first shift from 6pm to 10pm. This was by far the most adventurist thing I have ever done! Being behind the tiller by myself for four hours, at night, in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. I have never seen or done anything like it. One can not see the waves, but only feel them as they crash into the boat. And the only way to know where one is headed is by the slight lit compass and the small GPS.

Just keep going East.

After witnessing the breathtaking sight of the sun rising underneath a small gathering of storm clouds, which would later splash us with water, we were on our way to setting anchor in the Utila Bay.

Engine goes out again.

We got a tow from Walter's boat into the Bay. We finally made it! Thirty hours later. Hot, sweaty, and sleep deprived.

DOM