Exploring the Caribbean’s Only Jaguar Preserve in the Jungle of Belize

You may not see one. But they’ll definitely see you. We’re hiking through lush forest, filled with towering trees, flowing rivers and waterfalls, tropical birds and everything from leafcutter ants to wari to tapirs. But the most interesting – and rarest — creature that inhabits the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary is also the most beautiful: the jaguar, the largest wildcat in the Americas. 

There are nearly 127,000 acres here, raw and wild, with myriad trails at every skill level from “novice” to “are you sure.” And there are, by the Park’s estimates, some 151 jaguars who make their home here. 

Cockscomb began with the efforts of Dr. Alan Rabinowitz, who was tasked with studying jaguars in Belize and determined that this area was home to a particularly large number of them.

It wasn’t until 1984 that Rabinowitz, joined by the Belize Audubon Society and Archie Carr III of the New York Zoological Society (whose father was actually the founder of the Sea Turtle Conservancy) persuaded Belize’s government to create what would become the Caribbean’s first and only preserve for jaguars. That started with 93,000 acres and a “no hunting ordinance.” It has grown to 127,000: a living, breathing, spectacular corner of the Caribbean Basin. 

While the beauty here is vast, and the wildlife abundant, the chances of seeing a jaguar are, well, low. Jaguars aren’t nocturnal, but their active hours tend to be during periods of limited light like dawn and dusk. They’re also shy, generally avoiding humans — though eternally aware of them. That means that while seeing one here in the reserve is exceedingly rare, they’ll almost certainly know exactly where you are. 

So you may go looking for jaguars, but when you find yourself in the clearing, watching the water go by, listening to the otherworldly symphony of the forest, you find something else entirely: the unadulterated thrill of exploration. Sure, there’s a well-trodden path through much of this place. But you are very much in the heart of the jungle. You are out there. 

No matter where you walk, you can’t escape the wonder of what’s just out of your sight, inside the trees, of who’s really watching who. It’s a nervous, thrilling, exhilarating energy.  

We took a trail of about an hour from the main center and back, seeing a tapir and an impressive number of leafcutter ants hard at work, but none of those golden-furred cats. 

At the visitor center, we caught up with one of the guides who had a natural talent for cat-spotting.

“I’ve been here for four months, and I’ve seen two,” he told us. (He should probably play the lottery more often). He’d also seen some pumas which, it should be noted, are not nearly as shy as their jaguar counterparts. 

Cockscomb is part of what makes Belize such an endlessly fascinating, diverse destination. It’s just a 30-minute drive from Hopkins, a classic Caribbean town right on the sea, but it feels like another universe. It’s this dynamic duality, beach and jungle, wild and wonderful, that makes for such a unique travel experience. 

We didn’t stay until twilight, when the cats come out to hunt, though spirited travelers can opt for a multiple-day hike to the legendary Victoria Peak and spend a few overnights here in the Belizean wilderness. If you’re lucky and you look carefully, you might just find a pair of glowing eyes peering right back at you.