Up Guyana's Essequibo River

It poured cats and dogs during the night. We were up at quarter to dawn to catch the early morning flood tide 40 nm up Guyana's longest river, the Essequibo. The rain had mostly stopped and it was cool, misty and grey at first light. The decks were wet, but clean. We hauled the anchor, heavy and thick with clay and mud. Smoke, sawdust and rich earth smells filled the air.

From the get-go, the passage up the Essequibo was interesting, but required lots of concentration. We had what we assumed were good waypoints (23 of them!), but even the few navigational aids shown on the chart were missing. In the entire, circuitous 50nm trip, we saw only three markers. To add to the challenge, our Navionics charts were off by about 700' N/S and 300' E/W, making it appear at times, as if we were sailing over land.

Sights along the river were colorful and diverse. We saw an array of Hindu prayer flags on a beach and

lots of abandoned, rusting hulks. Several large motor vessels were high and dry on the sand, hopefully using the low tide for repairs and maintenance.

For a good portion of the trip, we had one foot on land and one in the water, i.e. we were very close to the river shore. This afforded the opportunity to observe shore life and take lots of pictures.

The largest port on the river is Parika, low-lying Georgetown's primary port. We watched the ferry from Bartica pass us as it headed to the stelling (a new word for us), the commercial wharf/terminal for ships.

The wharves of Parika were busy with trucks and boats loading and unloading market produce. Bananas seemed to be a bumper crop.

Fishermen, in tiny open boats, worked hard pulling up their nets. We watched men wrestle fuel barrels off riverboats onto small boats. Fast river taxis whizzed past and slow heavily-laden barges, nudged forward by tugs, shared the river with us.

Logging is big industry in Guyana as evidenced by the number of sawmills, mountains of sawdust and volume of cut logs piled along the shores. The distinct, pleasant smell of freshly cut wood permeated the air.

Houses dotted the shore with boats moored nearby, some barely visible through the dense foliage. There are few roads in Guyana, but lots of waterways. Boats are essential transportation here as they were in the other Guianas.

Numerous private piers extended into the river from the shore for ease of loading and unloading. Some were very elaborate and some basic, but all seemed to do the trick. The tidal range here is about 8' (2.5m).

By mid-morning, the grey overcast cleared and white puffy clouds appeared in a blue sky. We motored on a milk chocolate river.

We passed Fort Island, location of the British Guiana's first capital city, and could make out the ruins of the 18th century Fort Zeelandia, built while the Dutch ruled the colony. We noted that this might make a great stop for exploring on our way back downriver. The Dutch were not very imaginative with their fort names evidently. Wasn't the fort in Paramaribo named Fort Zeelandia, too?

The foliage ashore was thick and verdant. There seemed to be a thousand shades of green, accentuated by random streaks of yellow, red and purple blossoms and brightly colored parrots and macaws squawking and flitting between trees. I spotted a toucan, perched high on a dead tree. Our first toucan in the wild ... far away, but easy to identify in profile.

Moths, butterflies, bees, dragonflies and welcome swallows darted by, traveling significantly faster than our 7.5-8 knots. They all eyed us briefly, but obviously discovering nothing of interest, continued on their way. Several of Eddy Egret's kin crowded on the riverside mangroves.

As we neared Bartica, we passed close to Two Brothers Island where musician, Eddie Grant, has built himself quite a palace.

The current provided about a 2.5 knot push for us. The further up the river we progressed, the later the high tide, and the 40 nm quickly passed. A few sharp turns, an adrenaline moment as we transited Rattlesnake Pass and saw the depth meter dip quickly to 9' (2.8m) and there was Bartica. We motored past the Bartica Stelling and were anchored comfortably off the town by Noon. A new country and a new adventure lie ahead.

En Route to Guyana - Day 3

We chocked up great mileage during the night and it continued into the morning, but the wind dwindled to 8 knots by 0800. One strange occurrence at around 0500 to relate, however. David was on watch. It was still quite dark. I heard a startled yelp and woke to see David standing on the companionway ladder with the camera. “What's going on?” I asked, tangled in lee cloths and stumbling out of the bunk.

“You've gotta see this” answered David. With a flashlight, he pointed to a rather large white egret sitting on the cockpit settee, unconcerned with the bright light.

“He landed on my arm and scared the shit out of me”, explained the Captain. My thought immediately raced to Bob the Stink and the bond David developed with him. I was hoping Ed the Egret wasn't planning on a long stay.

We tried unsuccessfully to move the hitchhiker out of the cockpit with various “shoo” noises. Finally, David grabbed a bath towel, quickly and carefully wrapped it around the bird, planning to release him overboard. That long beak could really do some damage. The egret loudly squawked his discontent in no uncertain terms and wrestled out of David's grip. They tussled on the side deck for a moment before the egret gave up and flew off. He circled the boat a couple of times and we thought for sure he intended to land again, but ultimately he flew off into the night. Egrets, by the way, are usually waders and we were over 20 miles offshore. It was unusual for Ed to be so far afield.

By mid-morning, we made it to the mouth of the Essequibo, Guyana's longest river, in time to catch the tail end of the flood tide. We tried to cut a few miles off our course, but were impeded by rows and rows of fishing piles … stakes with nets between them, set out by local fishermen that seemed to go on forever along both sides of the channel. It seemed prudent to sail around them.

The water turned a familiar muddy brown and churned with the tidal motion. The low-lying, mangrove-fringed shoreline finally came into view with dark rain clouds hovering above. Rain fell all around us, but we managed to escape the downpour.

We let the tide carry us as long as it could and dropped the hook about 10 miles up river. We'll stay the night and catch tomorrow morning's flood tide to bring us the rest of the way up river (about 40 nm)  to Bartica, our check-in port.

En Route to Guyana

Day 1 Though we would be perfectly happy to remain moored in the Suriname River for another month or two, once again it's time to move on. We're heading to Guyana, the only one of South America's 13 countries that we haven't visited. We paid off the marina, then walked over to our favorite little supermarket here in Domburg yesterday afternoon and spent the last of our Suriname dollars on bread, tomatoes and yogurt. We held out SU$14 for a djogo of Parbo beer at the River Breeze to share with some cruiser friends. We ended up with 35 Suriname cents … not bad planning.

We had checked out with Immigration (Suriname Military Police) on our last visit to Paramaribo while we still had the car. Their office is closed on weekends, but the officials were perfectly happy to exit-stamp our passports on Friday for departure early Monday morning. It's been great here, but already our thoughts are concentrated on following our track down the Suriname River back to the Atlantic, sailing 185nm along the Suriname/Guyana coasts and then heading up the Essequibo River about 40nm to Bartica. The total charted route is about 260nm... about three days from anchorage to anchorage, depending on currents, winds and tides. No more oceans to cross … no more long passages for awhile.

We were off to a stuttering start. We planned to leave on Monday and then decided at the last minute to hang out for one more day. We manufactured all sorts of excuses, but in the end, it just came down to deciding we just felt like waiting a day. It's not like we have plane tickets … we have options for departure times and we exercise them frequently, as you well  know.

Tuesday morning had us scurrying around as if it was a surprise that we were actually leaving. We were up early enough. What started the “scurry” was hearing chirping welcome swallows, but not seeing them anywhere on the boat. Seems they had perched beside the boat on several large tree branches that were all tangled up in the mooring lines.

We used the dinghy to try to remove them, but the current was still too strong. We went ashore, got rid of trash, did internet and topped up the water. When we returned an hour later, the current had subsided enough to allow us to untangle the mess. It took nearly an hour to rid ourselves of the unwanted forest and untangle the mooring lines.

We hauled the dinghy, but of course, its time in the muddy river had left it dirty. While David tackled the dinghy cleaning, I made sandwiches, cooked chicken for dinner and made ready below. Another hour gone. By 10am, just as the tide was changing, we dropped the last mooring line and we were heading 35nm north back down the Suriname River.

The day was gorgeous, with a few sprinkles here and there, but nothing to complain about. We cleared the mouth of the river in 4.5 hours. The last hour wasn't pleasant with wind against current, but it was short-lived. We hoisted the main, let out the jib and had a perfect beam reach sail till almost 7pm … wind and current in our favor. Then, the wind died, the dark enveloped us and little fishing boats with only black flags identifying the end of their vast mile-long nets were in great numbers.

We opted to stop for the night, drop the hook, get some dinner and sleep and continue in the morning. We lit up Cups like a Christmas tree, set the anchor, radar and AIS alarms and tried to get some sleep. Bad idea! We were seasick almost immediately. The boat rolled and pitched, but the thought of hauling anchor was even worse. We toughed out the night, leaving us sleepless, sore and unrested by daylight … and still no wind … but the seasickness was gone.

Day 2

We downloaded Doyle's Cruising Guide to Guyana before we left. It's a work in progress and the download is  free. We've read it from cover to cover with all its associated updates. The Essequibo River has few navigational aids and the Navionics charts are known to be a bit off. The guide provides waypoints, hints and info accumulated from previous cruisers. Of course, it's a river and things change, but it's a good navigational aid when used in conjunction with caution, common sense and eyeballs. David had loaded the waypoints into the iPad and the chartplotter. We checked them twice, found one small error to correct, then concentrated on enjoying the day, which included several naps to make up for the previous night's lack of sleep.

Jack and Jo, formerly of Mystic Adventure and longtime cruising friends, made this trip over a decade ago in 2004. Jack made  excellent notes which he published back then. Before we left Suriname, we dug them out, read them and then contacted Jack to let him know we were following in his track. Even today, very few yachts visit Guyana. It has a rough reputation and minimal infrastructure to support tourism. Jack, however, still had contact with Kit Nascimento, former advisor and PR guy for Guyana's Minister of Tourism. He and his wife Gem, are both still involved in the tourism industry and keen to have yachties visit. Jack introduced us via email, we heard from Kit within a day with an invitation to anchor off his place during our stay. We now have a solid, friendly contact in Guyana. That's how it works in the cruising community … like a charm.

Today was a rather nondescript kind of passage day. The wind remained below 8 knots and we dawdled along in the 3 knot range for the most of the day. The water is clear and green again and we're enjoying its clarity for a few days before it turns muddy brown again. We finally decided to turn on the iron jenny (engine) at 1500. At our current speed, we'd arrive at the river mouth too late and have to spend another day waiting for the tides. We puttered along at 6 knots. A late afternoon wind finally came up an hour later and, all sails full, we cruised along at 7 knots for the rest of the night on a beam reach. A buttery half moon rose. The stars were out in vast numbers. The 15-20kt wind was warm on our faces, but cool enough to be refreshing. Absolutely glorious.

We're not very far offshore...maybe 20 nm or so. Flocks of  gulls and terns fly by, following the fishing boats, which are also in great numbers.

We're catching up on naps, very content with being under sail again. We do, however, need to adjust our ETA a bit … more like 3-4 days.