Black bodies glitter in the white foam, reggae fills the air, a huge local woman is busy working on her Saturday “chickin” barbecue; the waves push gently against the heaps of turf under the coconut palms, everything is still, only a few frigate birds sail in the air above the reef. On board the sailboat everyone is asleep, only one of us holds a fishing-rod lazily, we hardly make any way in the calm air as the graffiti of seagulls and pelicans follows us along bright-blue piers.Later the wind catches up, the tiny Caribbean boat leans on its side and starts to plough the green waves, islands swim past us, most of them covered in thick mangrove, some only a breath of sand a few inches above the turquoise sea. A four-foot-long barracuda and a big mackerel takes our bait, later we dive for some conch shells and dock besides a small island, called caye in Belize. Next on the menu: grilled fish, conch salad, coconut juice; a gentle wind and terns chasing between the palms.
On another day we wake early, meet some fishermen on the open sea, buy some shrimp and talk to them about the weather. Making our way carefully between the hundreds of cayes, getting closer to the continent, buy some water and fruit on the mainland like ships centuries before, then carry on due south. The wind blows persistently every day from the northeast, the waves run slurring under us, then the white sand disappears together with the nurse sharks, dolphins and stingrays, the colorful corals and algae darken, the mouth of Rio Dulce is near. Murky waters greet us near Livingston, the air fills with the peculiar smell of drying fish, and the forest closes in on us. Later the river widens, this is el Golfete, girls stand in traditional Maya clothing, holding fishing lines and nets in the lagoons covered by white water lilies. Houses on stilts stand in the water, a few plastic bags float on the surface, chicken and pigs run around everywhere. This is the end of the Caribbean atmosphere, we arrived to Guatemala.