INSIDE THE CORAL REEF

Jon Roop

(Although 47ft overall, Salt can explore shoal seas thanks to a lifting keel.)

After of three years of fall escapes to warmer weather that turned into major `finish the boat' winters, I finally committed myself to more mileage and an area that, GASP, doesn't have any boatyards! This guarantees some cruising before I can get back to the next round of repairs and modifications. In the past these sojourns could be called charter seasons, but with all the belt tightening going on in the '90s my winters are much more relaxed than they used to be.

On 1 December 1994 Salt departed Morehead City, North Carolina, for points south. The first two days were spent motoring in the Intracoastal Waterway, avoiding a low offshore and being entertained by the US Marines on manouevres in assorted air and surface craft. Day Three found us (captain and one crew) departing the Cape Fear River entrance under near perfect conditions for December. Hoist the sails, drop in the servo-rudder for the Sayes Rig, life is good, let's have a beer. An hour later life was not so good as the wind increased to 18-25 knots south-easterly and Frying Pan Shoal was extending its discomfort and reputation our way. The self-steering was affected first, followed quickly by the crew. Log entries that night and the following day are few, we ducked into Charleston the next afternoon for some badly needed rest and repairs.

December 5th saw us, cleaned up, rested and humble, depart Charleston for Nassau. The good weather stayed good this time and we had a perfect four day passage, never seeing wind over 15 knots except for one squall. Alas, the wind vane never recovered from our night of misery. Although it worked briefly on starboard tack it refused on port, resisting all adjustments. A careful examination revealed the rudder blade to be twisted slightly, causing a constant inclination to gybe on a close reach. Whether it came from the factory that way or warped from high temperature (it is painted black and was stored on deck) remains to be seen.

Nassau was noted for social life, fine dining (food not from cans) and scuba diving. Nassau Yacht Haven remains the cruisers' marina, easy access to town, reasonable bar and laundry and good attitude toward sailors and the boats they ride in on. The diving expedition was most notable for fouling our 55lb Delta anchor (Simpson Lawrence). It was nosed under a small rock in 35ft, wind light, seas calm. We checked it on our dive and all seemed well but it was quite difficult to retrieve, creating an alarming bend in the bowsprit before breaking out. At the surface we saw an 85bend in the shank. The plough-like blade was fine, all the stress was transferred to the much thinner shank. I have since learned that the Delta has been re-designed -- we had an earlier model.

Nassau meant crew change and, with four aboard, we departed on 17 December for Montego Bay, Jamaica. The wind was 20 knots on the nose which meant a slow, wet slog under power to make Ship Channel Cay in the Exumas before dark. Around 2200 the wind backed east-north-east at 15 knots and, after finishing a detour around a navy ship on station in Exuma Sound, we were off on a fast close reach. Sunrise saw the south end of Cat Island, wind down. The wind stayed under 15 knots and easterly past Long Island, through Mira por Vos and most of the way to Cabo Maisi at the eastern end of Cuba. There, amid heavy ship traffic and large groundswell, it picked up to 20 knots or so and gave us a fast, wet ride through the Windward Passage where we were thoroughly inspected by a USCG helicopter which then headed off toward Port-au-Prince. We surfed off toward Jamaica until the wind quit altogether and we motored in on the afternoon of the 21 December.

Jamaica is not one of the premier destinations of the Caribbean for cruising boats but the Montego Bay Yacht Club was not the reason. This was our fourth visit in fifteen years and the welcome was sweetened by reunions with old friends. In the hectic atmosphere of the town and tourist scene it is a calm oasis in which one can relax. At least for most of the year calm prevails, but in early February the Miami-Montego Bay Race creates great drama. On our second visit in 1985 we were so caught up in the excitement that we sailed back to Florida and entered, to finish a distinguished fifth in class (of five boats). The temptation was strong in 1995 as the preparations were beginning, but we were had already planned for other destinations. Now the race is scheduled biannually so we have more temptation to resist (or not) in 1997.

New crew again, and off we set on 2 January, this time for the Bay Islands of Honduras. We expected the passage to be typical tradewinds, but had light airs again. The wind was up and down, averaging 12 knots, and we had to tack downwind to keep the boatspeed high enough to keep the crew awake. This added time and mileage to our trip, consequently our time of arrival at Roatan slid to 0100 on the 6th. With so much more ahead of us to see, and schedules in mind, we opted not to heave-to until sunrise to pass through the reef but kept going to Livingston, Guatemala.

It is necessary to cross a bar to get to Livingston. We discovered the buoy to mark the deepest water was missing ("It broke, they take it away to fix it", the port captain told us). Lining up the landmarks forming a range as described in our guide was either not successful or there have been some changes, as we encountered about 200 yards of 5ft depths where we were expecting 6ft on the way in. Time for silent thanks for our drop keel and a reminder to be more attentive.

Livingston perfectly fits the description of a third world town. In past years it was the only Guatemalan port on the Caribbean, but as ship size and traffic increased, Puerto Barrios, ten miles to the south, became the centre of activity and the town languished. Today it is a local trade and tourism centre, sitting at the mouth of the Rio Dulce. It is accessible only by boat and a wide variety of craft visit daily. We anchored about 100 yards off the town pier in 6ft over a sand bottom. Customs, Immigration, police and various semi-official types were aboard fairly promptly and the paperwork was less complicated than I had expected. They took with them all the papers of any significance -- we were advised to pick everything up in `about an hour'.

Approaching the pier in the dinghy, we were solicited by every harbour hustler worthy of the name. There was a wall of assorted humanity, all with some scheme for getting into our pockets. Fortunately we were intercepted by Phillip, the self-appointed agent/guide for cruisers. He informed us he would `take care of everything', and another look at the alternative convinced us to accept his services. It was a wise choice. He directed me to each of the official's dens to retrieve our various papers, located all the items on our shopping list and hustled it all (including a 100lb block of ice) back to the pier in the `taxi', a properly licensed wheelbarrow. All this in an hour and for the equivalent of US $15. Along the way we saw most of the town in all its exotic squalor. While we were at the fuel dock, an American couple powered their 41ft sloop full speed to the town pier, tied up and hurried up the hill. Soon after, they reappeared accompanied by some armed soldiers and the group disappeared upriver. Word quickly circulated -- they had been boarded by armed thieves while anchored in Lake Isabel and relieved of cash and passports. More intimidated by the wide variety of suspicious characters in town, we started up the Rio Dulce.

The five mile run up the canyon justifies any effort spent getting there. In its unique way it is as spectacular as Robinson's Cove or Table Bay. Sheer walls rise to 300 feet, rain forest clinging to the face and diffusing into the gorge ethereal light. Mayans paddled dugout canoes under the eroded cliff face, keeping out of the current, appearing and disappearing amidst the hanging vegetation. A tree, loosened by rain, crashed through the brush, plunging down the slope into the river, coming to rest upside down, awash. Ravines cut in from both sides, creating small plateaux which provide precarious footing for primitive homes, a church, a small store. Near the top end a hot sulfur spring boils in, announcing its presence more by smell than sight.

At the top of the gorge the river broadens into El Golfete, a lake set like a jewel among patches of jungle, savannah and a few farms, rimmed by high ridges. Creeks lead to protected anchorages, mangrove islands support vast flocks of birds, it is a place of incredible serenity. Seven miles further inland, El Golfete narrows, riverlike, for another three miles. Here are the marinas, hotels and restaurants, and vacation homes mentioned in the guides. The area is developing rapidly, good news for cruisers seeking services but no longer the wilderness of just a few years ago. Many visitors plan to cruise around for a few weeks, then stay for months -- or never leave. The large boating community has appropriated VHF Channel 68 for hailing, leaving Channel 16 for more formal use. Listening to the gossip one can visualise a large community of cruisers with quite a bit of social structure.

With possible bandits ahead in Lake Isabel and the calendar pressing, we turned back to sea. Clearing out was easy, we reprovisioned with Phillip and were on our way to Punta Gorda, Belize. Customs and Immigration were low key and permission to stay for a month was granted although I asked for more. During the next three days we cruised the outer reef, visiting remote anchorages by night and catching no fish under sail by day. The ocean sailing was fun but passes in the reef and picking through coral to anchor were laden with high stress moments. As with the Rio Dulce region, change is coming fast to the outer cays. They are the most desirable real estate in the country right now. Every scrap of dry land we saw was built on, either by fishing or resort interests. There are still plenty of beautiful anchorages and dive sites but it is more difficult to go ashore.

As the crew departure loomed, we approached Belize City. Numerous descriptions of a crime-infested, third world armpit made our approach a cautious one. We were worried about the exposed anchorage, wind against tide and unwanted visitors after dark. Happily there remains at Moho Cay a decent marina even since the departure of the Sail Belize charter company. Now named Maya Landings, they have 7ft in the approach, fuel, water and ice, a pleasant bar/restaurant and courteous staff. Like so many other tropical endeavours they have great plans for expansion, condos, new slips, etc ... all in the planning stage. For the present, it is convenient for supplies and services and has good security -- not to mention being the only marina within 125 miles in either direction. The city is a lot of what the negative press promised -- crowded, smelly and run down with the feel of commerce and desperation in the air. But almost all of the people are friendly and polite, phone and postal services are good, and fresh produce is reasonable along with a great selection of groceries from the US at higher prices. Balancing all the pluses and minuses, it is no more difficult to endure than, say, St Thomas in the US Virgin Islands.

One of the attractions of a trip to Belize is journeying inland. There are secluded accommodations of all descriptions tucked away in the hills offering riding, hiking, canoeing and visiting Mayan ruins. The country is sparsely settled, small communities are separated by farmland and jungle. The area was thoroughly settled by Mayans a thousand years ago and there are extensive ruins in various states of excavation. The marina is a perfect place to leave a boat safely while off exploring.

Cruising the local waters is not quite as serene. Finding ones way about in the shallow water inside the reef requires careful attention to the sketchy charts and water colour. Shoal draft is a major plus -- anything over 5ft begins to limit cruising. Navigation marks are scarce, channels are often indicated only by branches stuck in the bank and which side to pass a marker is sometimes a pressing question. Additionally, the same branches are used to mark fish traps in open water. Without local knowledge it is very confusing. The inshore shallows are less interesting, mud and mangroves, but the barrier reef is spectacular. There is every combination of sand and coral, shallow and deep. Large sea creatures move through your peripheral vision, above and below the surface. The colours are endless. Fishing is reputed to be excellent but I have yet to prove that to my satisfaction.

There are two good guides, one by Nigel Calder, the other by Freya Rauscher and edited by Julius Wilensky. Both are about three years old now and becoming a bit dated due to the rapid changes on shore. The piloting advice remains valuable, especially the Rauscher/Wilensky book which contains a wealth of carefully prepared sketch charts. Calder's book gives good coverage of clearance procedures and where to find supplies.

Salt will remain in Belize through March and then return to Beaufort, NC, by midsummer. Any members passing through on the way south during the fall of '95 are welcome to visit. We offer hospitality, local knowledge and, on the good days, a grill in the backyard. We are at 102 Seaview Street, about a mile east of the town dock.

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