Leavin From Livingston

We arrived in Livingston harbor at the end of a long day on the Rio Dulce. Here we would check out of Honduras and take our first true leap into cruising, an ocean passage. We spotted Temple, with whom we had been in contact in the Rio as a potential buddy boat, and picked a spot to anchor.

Livingston is the heart of Garifuna culture, and a lively port with a feel unlike any other destination in our experience. We had not anchored in such an open place before, but we had no other option. It took us three tries to set an anchor, since we did not yet understand the dynamic of the river current, and couldn't figure out why we were swinging against the wind.

We began the search for a dinghy dock, and soon landed at the municipal dock on the advice of a local Garifuna who recognized the look of indecision on our faces. He proposed to show us the way to the immigration agent's office while his brother watched the dinghy. We were very skeptical about leaving the dinghy under the eye of someone we did not know, but determined that it was wiser to pay a local a nominal fee than to bluntly refuse. Our ambassador was very nice, and told us all about Livingston as he led us up to the office. Raul Veliz was extremely efficient, and in no time we were checked out of Honduras.

We proceeded to a local restaurant where we planned to have appetizers and a beer while we waited for The Gloriamaris to appear on the horizon. We checked for Leap in the anchorage, and lined up a reference point so we could tell if she was moving. We perused the menu for a minute, checked Leap, and saw that she was dragging anchor fast toward shore. We sprinted back to the dock, thanked the Garifuna man who had watched our dinghy while we threw him whatever money came to hand, and flew full-throttle back to Leap. The engine started immediately, thankfully, and we pulled away from the shrimp dock while bringing home the anchor. Our Garifuna ambassador had mentioned that the Gloriamaris was on the horizon as we left the dock, but we had not taken a moment to check at that time. Now that we were turning circles in the anchorage, we pulled out the binoculars and saw that it was in fact The Parents, right on time for the reunion.

We maintained station outside Livingston by motoring in circles until The Gloriamaris arrived. The wonder and serenity of the canyon run was a distant memory. The Parents picked their anchoring spot and talked us through the procedure of setting ours in a strong current. This time, we held fast. We convened, had our reunion at long last, and set out the plan.

A prominent feature of Livingston bay is the sand bar stretching across the zone where the river meets the sea. As the Rio delta fans out, a final ridge of pure sand comes within 6 feet of the surface. Many a cruiser has scraped the bottom, and stories abound of those who have stuck hard on the bar. We were told that a distress call to be pulled off the bar was not cheap. And Leap was still low in the water with her heavy load of cargo.

We resolved to transfer the cargo over to The Gloriamaris, and leave Livingston the following morning at 9:00, at the height of the tide. The Parents had been awake since 2:00 that morning and spent 12 hours running at 15 knots before following seas which threatened to swamp them on several occasions, and so understandably wanted to rest for at least a few hours.

Next time: Deliver me unto Utila