Sailing in Belize is the antidote to Caribbean over-tourism. Follow along on our adventure to the Belize Barrier Reef where we discover some of the world’s best underwater life, remote islands, and just how much food one really needs to survive.
I wake up with the sun. In Belize, the sun is an early riser. Only two things motivate me to wake up this early—a morning flight and the promise of a magnificent sunrise. The fact that the former is mandatory and the latter is optional means I don’t see as many sunrises as I’d like.
Our boat rolls gently with the waves, trying its best to keep me nestled under my featherlight duvet. I overcome the desire to burrow and head above deck, still in my PJs. Which is how I find myself staring out at the sea at this ungodly hour.
The water is calm, reflecting the sky’s cotton candy colors. If not for the seagulls dive-bombing the surface, I wouldn’t be able to tell where the ocean ended and the sky began. The air is still. As if it, too, is reluctant to wake up.
A pair of bottle-nosed dolphins silently pinwheel through the water. Three Frigatebirds searching for food follow in their wake. There is no breeze, no sound, and only open water for infinite nautical miles. I smile—satisfied that the early wake-up has paid off.
It always does.
Dreaming of spring (break)
It’s spring break—that annual week-long bridge between winter and spring, cold and warm. Spring break exclaims, ‘You’ve nearly made it through another year of sweltering soccer games and off-key school concerts! Home stretch, only eight weeks ‘til summer!’ This is my favorite time of year to travel, aside from one thing. Most of the country is on spring break, too.
Every year we ask ourselves, ‘Where can we go that everyone else isn’t going?’ Every year it seems that everyone is everywhere we are. This year will be different.
Get my wish list destination hot sheet, Free. Just click!
Why sail in Belize?
Why sail in Belize when the Caribbean islands are so much closer to home? Well, (and I’m preparing for backlash here) the British Virgin Islands are a circus, for one. It’s a Disney-fied version of Caribbean life that mainly caters to the lowest common denominator class of tourists regarding food and service. Whoa, that’s pretty harsh. On the flip side, the Caribbean is stunning, with the potential for wonderful photos once you airbrush out all those pesky people.
This brings me to my second point—the BVI is crowded. With over 500,000 people descending upon the islands last year alone, I’m surprised Virgin Gorda hasn’t exceeded its maximum capacity and sunk. Third, even reaching far-flung islands like Anegada is a cut-throat race for the last mooring ball. And, unless you’re competing in the BVI annual regatta, there is no reason to race on a sailing holiday.
My husband Daniel promises that sailing in Belize, with its abundance of sea life and remote, windswept islands, will be the antidote to Caribbean over-tourism. A place where my depleted brain can recharge.
I hate it when he’s right.
Where is Belize?
Belize is the only country in Central America where English is the official language. It’s also Central America’s least populated country. It lies between Mexico and Guatemala with a coastline that’s home to hundreds of mostly uninhabited islands, off-shore atolls, mangrove forests, and an endless bounty of marine life. Belize’s Barrier Reef is the 2nd largest in the world—second only to that great one off the coast of Australia.
Comprised of seven protected areas, the reef was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1996. I’m glad Daniel made me pack my ridiculous-looking Snuba mask. If there’s ever a place to Snuba without fear of being spotted, it’s the least populated country in Central America.
There are 450 islands, or cayes (keys), along the Belizean coast. Some are for sale, should you have several hundred thousand dollars and a boatload of imagination to spare. While the cayes to the north of Belize City are popular destinations to sail in Belize, we opt for the quieter waters south of Placencia. This proves to be a blessing and a full-on Disney curse.
Reef Life in Belize
The shallow turquoise waters around the Belize Barrier Reef are distractingly beautiful. The sea’s astonishing clarity allows us to see fish, rays, and coral without having to get our toes wet. Mother Nature’s patterns are easily visible beneath the surface: the swaying branches of an orange sea fan, black stripes on a yellow Reef Butterflyfish, and raked sandy grooves on the sea floor. I look up and set my focus on the shore. Vibrant green palm fronds bend with the breeze, casually dangling over the water. Their snaking, windblown trunks firmly anchored to the beach.
The curse of being in a faraway and less-traveled, tropical environment is that there is nowhere to provision. I remind Daniel, (our provisioner-in-chief) that I hadn’t planned to starve to death on spring break this year. Don’t ask why we find ourselves in a position of being so egregiously understocked, but let’s just say I wasn’t invited into the supermarket on embarkation day. Big. Mistake.
By our third day at sea, we cast our rods, and pray to the fishing gods for help.
Get my wish list destination hot sheet, Free. Just click!
Come sail away
There’s something beautifully simple about living on the water. Sailing always reminds me that what stresses me out in the real world is not as overwhelming as I think. The built-in soundtrack of life at sea; birds, waves, and wind, is music to my citified ears. The colors are so vivid and change hue so often, I never get bored with the palette.
I like how it feels when the boat tightens as the wind finds its groove and fills the sail. It’s then that I find a seat at the bow and take inventory of the ever-changing scenery—a school of shimmery flying fish, an osprey guarding a sandy atoll, or a spotted eagle ray moving beneath us like an underwater butterfly.
The Belize Barrier Reef is alive and well in 2023. Long may that last.
Sailing in Belize: Cattyshack
I’m not sure who’s in charge of naming boats for Moorings, but I’d like the job. I can do better than Seas The Day, Rum ‘n’ Coke, and Abby Normal. Our catamaran’s name, Cattyshack, is only slightly less awful. But Cattyshack it is, and she serves us well for our week sailing in Belize.
Cattyshack is 45ft long with four bedrooms, four en-suite bathrooms, multiple outdoor viewing nooks (aka cocktail lounges), and lots of deck space to sunbathe and read. It has a large saloon with ample storage for all the food we’ve failed to bring. Cattyshack also has paddleboards, snorkeling equipment, fishing poles, and air conditioning. But Cattyshack’s most valuable assets are Raj and Christina—our captain and cook.
The Cattyshack Crew
Captain Raj has been sailing the Belize Barrier Reef his entire life and seems to know every sandbar, caye, and mangrove forest like the back of his Belizean hand. We’re ever impressed by his expertise, as sailing around the reef is tricky for even the most accomplished seamen. The depth of the water can shift from 75ft to 5ft within seconds, and I’m sure more than a few Seas The Days have been caught off-guard and run aground.
One night we are anchored well beyond the reef, completely exposed, when a large storm hits at 2am. I feel the heavy swells and see the lightning flash with my eyes shut. My coping mechanism is to hide under the covers and pretend it’s not happening. My husband excitedly heads above deck and out into the storm with Raj. Despite drawing the short straw to sleep in the upstairs saloon, our teenage son, Chase, snoozes right through it.
Master Chef
In the eerie stillness of the morning, we discover the only other two cats in the vicinity have crashed into each other, making us all the more grateful for Raj’s keen instincts.
Having a cook on board allows us to truly relax. And since our food supply is limited, we rely upon Christina’s skills to make it last. I didn’t need to be intuitive to note her displeasure with our amateur provisioning. We apologize as she continues to turn lemons into lemonade with each breakfast, lunch, and dinner. How she stretches our meager supplies into so many edible Belizean dishes is a mystery Gordon Ramsay couldn’t solve.
Thankfully both Christina and Raj are superior fishermen and share their catches with us. Our contribution is one enormous barracuda our friend Duncan reels in with well-deserved pride. Christina prepares it like the master chef she is, using an array of spices and coconut oil she brought on board. A veritable feast ensues.
Islands of Belize
Sailing is inherently simple. In theory, all one needs is a compass, wind, and a carefree spirit. A fishing rod helps. We learn to live on less throughout the week and savor each meal as if it’s our last. Raj takes us to a few islands with low-key restaurants that allow us to purchase produce and alcohol (at a considerable upcharge, naturally).
Are these escapades a part of the adventure? Definitely. Do they make for future blogging fodder? You know it. By the week’s end, no condiment gets left behind. I forage limes from the bottom of our tequila drinks and olives from our empty Bloody Mary tumblers. Waste not, want not, Belize-style.
Get my wish list destination hot sheet, Free. Just click!
Where to sail in Belize: Hideaway Caye
We sail to Hideaway Caye early in the week, well before we know the limits of our food supply. Florida natives Dustin and Kim fell in love with Belize while on vacation one year and decided to leave the Sunshine State for good. Together they built an island paradise complete with a restaurant, bar, and a single pink and green guest cabana. Those searching for an off-the-grid experience in an already off-the-grid location should look no further than Hideaway Caye.
Raised wooden planks lit with tiny fairy lights lead us from the dock to Kim and Dustin’s thatched open-air bar. The menu is limited, serving mainly Queen Conch, which is one of the most celebrated foods in Belize. Conch season runs from October through June and Kim prepares this Belizean delicacy in two delectable ways. We devour her conch fritters and conch ceviche along with cocktails, and convivial banter.
Where to sail in Belize: Rendezvous Caye
After a storm-free night’s sleep, light breakfast, and leisurely sail, Rendezvous Caye comes into view. I take out my binoculars and focus on this narrow slip of an island, hardly believing that it once belonged to Ringo Starr. “The drummer from the Beatles!”, I tell Chase, who looks miffed. “The Beatles? One of the greatest bands of all time?”, I add. He still looks confused.
Ugh. Forget it.
I scan the length of the island, noticing osprey and other birds of prey in the trees. They don’t seem happy about our arrival. I know that look well, my mother makes the same face when she’s annoyed. I silently promise we won’t disturb their peace and hope they don’t see me as a mid-morning snack.
Three thatched umbrellas pop up from the water at the sandy tip of the island. I wonder where the cabana boys are hiding with my gin and tonic. The island looks completely abandoned. This could never happen in the Caribbean, I think as I struggle with my Snuba mask. Once firmly in place, I make my way towards the barren shore, noting where the osprey is perched before jumping in.
My son and his friend paddleboard while the rest of us swim. We spend a few hours as castaways, exploring, shelling, and playing beach cricket. Later on, a family from another cat, Texas Two Step (really, Moorings?), appears and joins the game.
As much as I complain about having to pack a bat, wicket, and a can of tennis balls on every vacation, beach cricket is always a crowd-pleaser. As the sun begins to wane, we say goodbye to Rendezvous and head back to the boat for sunset cocktails—my favorite activity of the day.
Where to sail in Belize: Ray Caye
Approaching Ray Caye is like finding water after being lost in the desert for a week. A private island resort with pristine beaches, colorful, modest guest houses, and wait for it, a full-service restaurant and bar, Ray Caye is para- para- paradise. Get it, Chase? Coldplay! Paradise?
Lionfish Bar and Grill serves more than just conch, which in itself is a perfectly acceptable reason to love it. We descend upon it like feral cats, which annoys the resort’s legitimate guests. It doesn’t escape me that we manage to disturb so many people and various species of wildlife on our trip. Daniel gets experimental and orders lionfish cakes while I replenish my veggie quotient with island-grown arugula tossed with sweet cherry tomatoes, pine nuts, and red onion.
Once my belly is officially full, I head to the pool, order a Bloody Mary (more veggies!), and settle in for the afternoon. The kids seek out the island’s famous sea slide. The hours melt away.
The Rhythm of Boat Life
The days melt away, too. The rhythm of boat life is melodic and carefree. Early mornings are quiet and pensive. The sea picks up just as our caffeine kicks in, and we sail for a few hours towards the next caye. By midday, the sea is alive with activity, and we spot dolphins, rays, and tarpon from the deck. By late afternoon, we’d migrated to the upper deck for drinks. Each night we say this is the best sunset yet. Every night it is.
After dinner, we gaze up at the inky star-filled sky and revel in the quiet. The water rolls away from our boat like a red carpet on Oscar Night. Going home is going to hurt.
Before long, we’ve reached the end of the week, the end of our provisions, and for Christina, quite possibly, the end of her rope. Daniel defends his position by declaring we’ve had an overeating problem rather than an underprovisioning one.
Under the sea
It’s our final morning sailing in Belize. I force myself out of bed early, knowing this will be the last sunrise I choose to see for a while. The sea is pale pink, once again a reflection of the sky. In researching shades of pink, (no wonder it takes me a month to write a post) I learn that Benjamin Moore’s ‘First Light’ won ‘Color of the Year’ in 2020. Benjamin Moore’s color namer could teach the Mooring’s boat namer a thing or two.
I imagine the sea life teeming below me; the ever-colorful living reef, scorpionfish, parrotfish, and barracuda. I picture the brain coral, fire coral, and mushroom coral—all of which I’d seen clear as day with my trusty Snuba mask, which I’ve learned to love.
Two bottle-nosed dolphins break the surface in the distance. I pretend they are the same pair who welcomed me to Belize at sunrise one week ago. In Belize, there are treasures to be found both under the sea and above it.
I smile—satisfied that the early wake-up has once again paid off.
It always does.
Get my wish list destination hot sheet, Free. Just click!
I’m glad that the article included some personal recommendations from people who have sailed in Belize. This is helpful to hear, as it gives me a better idea of what to expect.
I’m excited to start planning my sailing trip to Belize!
I’m so happy you found it helpful. Please feel free to contact me with any questions! -Jamie [email protected]