Walking Among Bones of Human Sacrifices in the Caves of the Mayan Underworld
January 2021: Belize is more than its famous cayes and world-class diving—its jungles hide ancient Mayan ruins and vast cave networks. Most Mayan cities in western Belize were built near caves, believed to be portals to Xibalba, the underworld, where rituals and sacrifices took place.
The caves were dark and mysterious places to the Maya. They believed that after death, their souls would pass through the Maya underworld where they would face a series of trials and tribulations and those that failed these tests would be condemned to an eternity of darkness and suffering.
During the time of the Maya, people lived in constant fear of famine, drought, pestilence, and other natural calamities. They believed these disasters were caused by the gods and that human sacrifices were necessary to prevent them. It was said that the gods were most appeased when the sacrifice was young and when the death was carried out in a violent and painful manner.
The Maya considered the deepest and darkest parts of caves to be the dwelling places of their gods, such as Chaac, the god of water and rain. Because of this, caves were regarded as sacred spaces, accessible only to priests and those chosen for sacrifice. To this day, these caves remain sacred to the descendants of the Maya in Belize. However, they do not view them as places of evil. According to their beliefs, those who were sacrificed—including children—did so voluntarily to save their people. It was also believed that by sacrificing themselves, they could bypass the trials of the underworld and ascend directly to heaven.
I visited Belize for New Year’s weekend to explore some of these caves, expecting them to have an oppressively dark energy due to their violent past. Instead, I was in total awe of their natural beauty.
Arrival to San Ignacio

The small town of San Ignacio, located along the Guatemalan border, serves as the main gateway to the many caves and Mayan ruins found throughout Belize.
Day 1: Our trip didn’t begin as I had hoped. My friends and I flew into Belize City to start our adventure, expecting a lively atmosphere, but due to the pandemic, the normally bustling city was eerily empty.
We hired a taxi for the three-hour drive to San Ignacio, but somewhere along the road—beside a mosquito-infested swamp—our car broke down. It was New Year’s Day, the sun had already set, and the few vehicles passing by were being driven by intoxicated revelers. Concerned about the real risk of being robbed while stranded on the roadside, we quickly hid our luggage in the bushes.
As we waited for our driver’s friend to pick us up, a van full of rough-looking, drunken partiers pulled over to check us out. One pot-bellied man, shirtless and swaying, seemed particularly interested in us, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Just as tensions began to rise, our ride finally arrived. The replacement vehicle towed our broken-down taxi the rest of the way to San Ignacio.
On the drive, I asked our driver if we would have been robbed had we stayed on the road much longer—and if the car would still be there by morning. His response: “50% chance you’d be robbed, 100% chance the car would be gone.”
We finally arrived in San Ignacio around 8 p.m., exhausted and ready to check in. However, our hotel—one of the few the government had allowed to remain open during the pandemic—was completely dark and locked up. Our first night in Belize was not going well.
A security guard heard our knocking and let us in. He explained that all the hotel staff had gone home hours earlier to avoid breaking the COVID curfew and that we were expected to arrive much earlier. Apologizing, he checked us in but informed us that the kitchen was closed.

Johnny raiding the kitchen
We were starving. After traveling all day from San Diego—with no meals available on our flights due to COVID restrictions—we refused to accept that there was no food. Desperate and exhausted, we resorted to survival tactics.
As we explored the hotel, we discovered that the grounds were vast, and with the security guard busy patrolling, we had plenty of time to investigate the kitchen—which, to our luck, had been left unlocked. We managed to scavenge a makeshift meal of cheesecake, watermelon, and bread. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.
When the security guard eventually returned, we struck up a conversation and convinced him to sell us a bottle of wine. With food in our stomachs and a drink in hand, the night didn’t turn out so bad after all.
Barton Creek Cave
Day 2: The next day, we visited two caves. The first was Barton Creek Cave, operated by a Mennonite family and accessible only by canoe. It was a serene and interesting experience, but ultimately, it served as a warm-up for the real highlight of the day—Actun Tunichil Muknal (ATM) Cave, which we had planned to visit in the afternoon.

Entrance to Barton Creek Cave

My friends exploring Barton Creek by Canoe
Actun Tunichil Muknal (ATM) Cave
Actun Tunichil Muknal (ATM) Cave is infamous as the site where dozens—if not many more—people, mostly children, were sacrificed. But it is more than just a grim place of human sacrifice. It is also a breathtaking natural wonder, with cascading waterfalls, crystal-clear green subterranean rivers, towering stalagmites, and glittering mineral formations. To this day, I consider ATM Cave one of the most remarkable cave experiences I’ve ever had.
Reaching the cave requires an adventurous journey through the jungle, wading across three or four rivers. Along the way, iguanas can be spotted perched high in the treetops overhanging the water. Occasionally, tapirs emerge from the forest, though they are more elusive.
Upon arrival, entry into the cave begins with a swim into the river that flows from its mouth. Once inside, the adventure continues—climbing waterfalls, swimming beneath stalagmites, and making your way upstream through the awe-inspiring cavern for several hours. Eventually, you reach the chamber where the sacrificial ceremonies took place.
To access this sacred area, you must leave the river behind and climb a ledge deeper into the cave. There, human bones and skeletons are scattered across the floor in such abundance that visitors must walk barefoot along a designated path to avoid stepping on and damaging them—something that has been an issue in the past. In fact, cameras and phones have been strictly banned ever since a careless tourist dropped a camera on a skull, cracking a hole into it. The cave remains sacred to the descendants of the Maya, and preserving it is a priority.
Deep inside, the atmosphere becomes undeniably haunting. Many of the skeletal remains belong to young children, their skulls still twisted in expressions of agony from their final gruesome moments. Our guide explained that one child was buried alive under the crushing weight of rocks, left to die slowly in the darkness. Others were bludgeoned to death with rocks or clubs, evident from the gaping holes in their skulls.
The sacrifices were always performed by the Maya priests, who used natural narcotics to carry out the ceremonies. These priests would also engage in bloodletting and self-mutilation rituals to further appease the gods. One particularly extreme ceremony involved impaling one’s testicles on a sharp rock—a shocking testament to the lengths they would go to in their devotion.

A skeleton of a teenage girl who was likely sacrificed over a thousand years ago. Her skeletal remains have crystallized over time.
Cave of the Crystal

Us Exploring Crystal Cave
Day 3: The next cave on our journey was Crystal Cave, a more physically demanding and less-visited site compared to ATM Cave. Unlike the relatively accessible ATM Cave, Crystal Cave required crawling through tight spaces, navigating treacherous, slippery boulders, and even some rope climbing. It was a true test of endurance and agility.
The next morning, we set off early, prepared to spend the entire day exploring its depths.

A jungle turtle we found on the trail
It was the perfect day to be inside a cave. Outside, torrential rain poured nonstop, and due to the risk of flash flooding, ATM Cave—which we had explored the day before—would have been impossible to visit in such conditions.
We hiked for several hours through the rainforest, trudging through thick mud, to reach the entrance of Crystal Cave. Unlike ATM Cave, Crystal Cave is a dry cave, meaning it isn’t affected by flash floods. However, like ATM, it was once a sacred site where the Maya performed human sacrifices. Scattered throughout its chambers are ceremonial vases and skeletal remains, silent remnants of its grim past.
Despite our frequent slipping and falling in the mud during the hike, our guide seemed confident in our abilities and decided to take us deeper than most visitors ever go—to the cave’s innermost chamber, known as the Crystal Room. This final chamber was said to be breathtaking, with sparkling crystals covering its walls, creating a surreal, otherworldly glow.

Johnny squeezing through a crevice
My confidence in our guide wavered when his headlamp began to dim, and he casually mentioned that his battery was nearly dead. We all had extra headlamps and offered him one, but he refused. It wasn’t exactly reassuring.
Fortunately, we made it to the Crystal Room, and the cave did not disappoint. The shimmering formations were mesmerizing, casting an ethereal glow in the darkness. But beyond the crystals, what made Crystal Cave truly special was its raw, untouched beauty and the overwhelming sense of wildness that set it apart from more frequented caves.

Bats were a common sight in the cave

A skull belonging to an individual sacrificed in the cave centuries ago.

Mayan pottery bowls were discovered throughout the cave, and this particular one was in immaculate condition.

Richard navigating muddy and small passageways

Large room before the crystal room

Crystal Room
Sneaking into the Cahel Pech Mayan Pyramid at Night

Cahel Pech Mayan Pyramids (1200 BC)
Every night, we barely made it back to the hotel in time for dinner before the staff had to leave to beat the COVID curfew. After our long day exploring Crystal Cave, we arrived with only moments to spare.
But the night wasn’t over yet.
With darkness settled over San Ignacio, we decided to explore the 1,200-year-old Maya pyramids of Cahal Pech, conveniently located next to our hotel. Just as we were about to leave, the security guard—who was used to us being the only ones up and about at night—intercepted us, asking where we were headed. We were upfront with him. He sighed, warning us not to get caught and reminding us to wear our masks. If we were arrested, it wouldn’t just be for trespassing—it would also be for violating COVID mask regulations.
Then he mentioned something unsettling.
The police had been extra vigilant about trespassers in the Cahal Pech reserve ever since a murder occurred there the year before. Three youths had entered the ruins at night, climbed one of the pyramids, and in a horrifying reenactment of ancient rituals, two of them sacrificed the third. One of the boys had been decapitated on top of the pyramid. The eerie theme of human sacrifice seemed to be following us on this trip.
That didn’t stop us.
Dressed in all black, we set off. The pyramids were in a park adjacent to our hotel, surrounded by jungle and a residential area, but separated by walls from the nearby shanty houses. As we approached, we saw that the guardhouse lights were on. Holding our breath, we tiptoed past, hoping there were no guard dogs. There weren’t.
We slipped past the guards undetected and, for the next hour, climbed the pyramids and danced in the moonlight like conquerors celebrating our triumph. But then—footsteps.
Somewhere below, we heard the unmistakable sound of someone approaching. Without hesitation, we bolted in different directions, switching off our flashlights. I ran deep into the jungle, heart pounding, ready to take my chances with the snakes if it came to that. I crouched in the shadows, listening.
The footsteps never resumed.
After a few tense minutes, I convinced myself it must have been our imagination. Moving cautiously, I crept out of the reserve along a narrow jungle path, using only the light of the full moon to guide me. Somewhere along the way, I heard rustling in the bushes. Assuming it was one of my friends, I called out—but there was no response. Whatever was there stayed hidden.
Eventually, I made it back to the hotel, where I reunited with my friends, all of us exhilarated from our nighttime adventure.
Day 4: Seeing Cahal Pech—Legally
The next morning, we returned to Cahal Pech—this time legally and in daylight. The ruins looked entirely different in the sun, but we couldn’t help but feel a thrill knowing we had already explored them in the moonlight.
Afterward, we set off to the airport to catch our midday flight back to San Diego—wrapping up what had been one of the most adventurous New Year’s weekends we had ever experienced.