Belize - Caye Caulker - Day 4


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Published: June 4th 2009
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After breakfast at Caves Branch, we hop into a shuttle destined for Belize City where we will find the water taxi to Caye Caulker. We’ve been hearing for months that Belize City isn’t exactly the nicest place to visit. Our driver assures us that we are safe, but stepping out into the madness of the water taxi terminal is a bit of a shock after 3 days of calm, friendly faces at Caves Branch. As I grab the handle and begin to slide the door open, Karin notes that it is 10:29am according to her watch.

The door slides open and immediately an older man with wild silver hair and a loud scratchy voice is in my face. “WHERE YA GOIN, MON!?”, he shouts frantically. “Uhhhh” I stammer. He doesn’t give me even a second to collect my thoughts. “WHERE YA GOING, MON?!?!?” he shouts even louder and with more urgency. “Caye Caulker” I mumble, confused. Who is this guy, and why is he so concerned with where I’m going, I think to myself. The driver hops out and says “It’s OK. This guy will get you on the boat”. The loud man is back in my face “YA NEED TO GET YER TICKETS NOW IF YA WANNA GET ON THE BOAT!” he shouts as he grabs for my backpack. “We have lots of bags” I reply still unsure of what the heck is going on. “DON’T WORRY ABOUT YER BAGS, Ill GET ‘EM. GO GET YER TICKET - NOW!”. Apparently the boat is scheduled to leave at 10:30am and the next boat doesn’t leave until 11:30am. I run in the door to buy tickets. We haven’t had to use money since we got here, and I hand over what seems like a lot of bills. I turn around to see 3 guys running with our bags. Karin and the girls are being quickly ushered towards a door in the back. The next thing I know we’re all sitting on a boat destined for Caye Caulker. It’s now 10:32am according to Karin’s watch.

My head is spinning. I finally take a breath and gather my senses enough to look around. It’s a strange mix of people on the boat. There are a couple of local families, about six Belizean men who look to be on their way to work, two foreign couples, and a handful of dirty backpackers. No one looks particularly happy. We have a giant pile luggage at our feet and are dressed like we just came from a jungle safari. I suddenly feel very out of place. No one speaks the entire trip.

Things don’t get any better when we arrive at Caye Caulker. We unload onto the dock and once again people are scrambling in every direction. The sun is pounding and it feels like a million degrees outside. Two guys are hurrying towards us as if in a race, both screaming “TAXI, TAXI… you need a Taxi?”. He is, of course, referring to his golf cart as there are no vehicles on Caye Caulker. I shake my head no, as we had originally agreed that we wouldn’t need a taxi; after all, our place was only a few blocks away according to the map. Karin and I start to gather everything up when we realize we’ve lost our two helpers. Rylee is hot and doesn’t want to carry her backpack. Paige is frozen in place with terror, certain that she will fall through the cracks in the dock if she attempts even a step. Another man comes towards us yelling “TAXI - TAXI”. Suddenly the thought of lugging both girls and all these bags 3 blocks in the heat with no idea where going just seems like too much. I finally relent, “Yes, we’ll take a taxi”.

We load our stuff into the taxi, but the craziness doesn’t stop. The driver is talking a mile a minute, asking me questions I don’t understand, pointing at things as we pass, telling me over and over how much I am going to love my stay, giving me his cell number so I can call whenever I need him. It goes on and on. Finally we get to the realtor’s office. She seems annoyed that we are in the taxi. She had sent a guy with a cart for us, but there was no way we could have ever made it through the barrage of taxi drivers to find him. She begrudgingly piles onto the taxi with us and we head towards our place.

Vendors fill the streets. They swarm our taxi, yelling and waving their goods as we drive by. A man with a white stocking on his head is riding towards us with a large white cooler strapped to the front of his bike. As he passes, he suddenly screams “Suuueeyyy!!!”. It sounds like he is in a pig calling contest. My head swings around like a swivel. “What in the world was that?” By the time I turn around we have arrived at our house and there is a crowd gathered on our 2nd floor deck. We’re told that someone was there earlier to clean and broke the key off in the lock. Meanwhile a Belizean man wielding a crowbar is forcefully ripping the molding off the doorway. Chunks of wood are flying everywhere. The realtor is apologizing profusely. She seems fed up and frustrated with the whole situation. Meanwhile, the man with the crowbar pops the door off the hinges and begins to rip out he lock. Another man with a long ponytail arrives on the scene carrying a new lock. He hands us a key and says he’ll be back shortly. Everyone disappears as quickly as they came and it is quiet for about 10 seconds. Suddenly the man on the bike comes flying down the road again. “Suuueeeyyyy!!!” he screams at the top of his lungs. I’m starting to think we should have stayed in Caves Branch.

We take some time to get unpacked and acclimate to our new surroundings. We’re staying on the second floor of what was described as a “typical Belizean style house”. It has two small bedrooms, a small kitchen / dining area, and a bathroom. On the first floor is a kite-boarding and windsurfing shop.
The house is made entirely of wood. It’s framed with 2x4’s and the walls look like painted plywood. You can actually see through some of the cracks to the outside. There is no insulation, drywall, or interior paneling. There are blocks of wood between the studs providing shelves for storage. There are two beat-up patio chairs with plastic cushions sitting in front of a 12” color TV. Each bedroom has a bed and a small dresser. Giant scratches cover the dusty hardwood floor. There are mats in front of every doorway, but it looks like most of the sand and debris is simply swept into the corners. The water smells a bit funny and is not safe to drink. If it sounds like I’m bashing this place, trust me, I’m not. This is exactly what I was expecting and other than the funny smelling water, I couldn’t be happier.

In my opinion we are staying at the premier location on all of Caye Caulker. “The Split” is the best swimming beach on the island and it’s only a block away from our house. We’re slightly north of town so it’s quiet at night. We’re well protected on the 2nd floor. We have a nice big porch. We’ve got a kitchen, a fridge, and a microwave. Free drinking water is included. There is a great sea breeze all day long. We’ve got coconut trees in our yard and a beautiful view of the Caribbean sea. And our two favorite features of all are ones that weren’t even listed in the advertisements; we’ve got two sweet hammocks on the front deck and a fenced-in area out front where the girls can play in the sand. Paradise.

Eventually the man with the pony tail stops back and introduces himself as Haywood, the owner of the house. Haywood is probably in his early-mid 30’s and hails from Texas. He is married with a two year old daughter and has lived on Caye Caulker for five years. He tells us that his wife has recently started the first High School on the island. Previously the local kids could only go up to primary school on Caye Caulker. After that they would have to travel to San Pedro everyday by boat to continue their education. It was an expense many simply could not afford.

Haywood is a fun guy to talk to and I like him instantly. He is full of energy, talks fast, and seems as if his mind going in a million different directions at once. He tells me that in addition to owning the house we are renting, he also owns a flyshop, guides occasional fishing tours, is fixing up a new hotel on the split, and recently purchased a large fixer-upper boat that sleeps four. “I’ve got lots of projects”, he says grinning. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. I ask about the kayaks which the realtor had told me that they were included with our rental.” Yeah, I got a boat you can use”, he says. “It’s a canoe”. A canoe?, I think to myself. He takes our water bottle and promises to return shortly with a full one. Just in case he doesn’t, he also tells me where I can find him “anytime we need anything during our stay”. Before I know it, he is out the door and on his way. I walk back outside. A man has setup shop right in front of our house selling BBQ shrimp sticks for $2.50 a piece. I buy two. They’re delicious.

By now everyone is hot so we finish unpacking and head for “The Split”. There are sandy beaches, people snorkeling, and reggae music pouring from the Lazy Lizard beach-bar. Caye Caulker actually consists of two islands; a largely uninhabited northern island (maybe 20 people) and the southern island (population 1300). These islands are separated by “The Split”. Everyone on Caye Caulker will tell you this was created in 1961 by Hurricane Hattie which devastated Belize City, but this is only half the story. Hattie did indeed open a small passageway here, but it only flowed a few inches deep. The islanders saw this as a convenient passageway from the west to the east and began to dredge the canal. It was originally intended only for dugout canoes, but the increased flow of tidal water has now carved the passageway 20ft deep. Large boats now pass through here regularly with ease. Eventually, something will have to be done in order to stop the erosion and save “The Split”.

We find a spot on the pier alongside a group of about eight girls who appear to be traveling together. Karin pulls out a book and a towel. Paige finds the sand. Rylee and I head out to do a little snorkeling. We make our way along a broken wall which runs along the edge of the split. The visibility isn’t the greatest, but we see all kinds of colorful fish and Rylee is delighted when we spot a starfish. Once again, the white capped man comes bicycling along with his cooler attached to his bike screaming “Suuueeeeyyyy!”. We learn that he is actually yelling “sea-weeeeeeed”, and his bottles are filled with a seaweed milkshake concoction that may, or may not, contain rum. The locals seem to love them and claim they are “healthy and make you feel good”. I’m intrigued and hope to try one before we leave.

After our swim, we head back to cleanup and get some dinner. I’ve read numerous reviews on the restaurants of Caye Caulker, and “Wish Willies” was definitely one of the places I wanted to visit. I was glad to see that it was just right around the corner from our house. In addition to being a colorful character, Willie was described by many as one of the best cooks on the island and his food was bargain priced. His sign reads “If you want to pay more, go next door”. One reviewer said once they ate their first meal there and didn’t go anywhere else the rest of their stay.

We didn’t have much a lunch so we headed out for an early dinner; a bit too early apparently. As we entered, a tall black man with baggy shorts and no shirt spreading bed sheets over picnic tables, singing to the loud reggae music as he worked. “Are you open” Karin asked? “Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya”, he said waving and welcoming us into his outdoor dining area. He had thick dread-locks tied behind his head, a slight beer-belly, glassy eyes, and an infectious smile. He motioned to us “Come, come, come, sit wherever you like, I’m just getting ready for dinner”. We grabbed a seat and he disappeared upstairs. Five minutes later he returned to our table wearing a colorful button down Hawaiian shirt. He held out his hands to showcase the newly added shirt, and proclaimed “Now - I’m ready for work”. We all laughed. “My name is Willie, what can I get you guys?” he asked. “How bout some menus” we replied. “No-no-no-no” Willie laughed. “No menus here. You tell me what you like, and I’ll make it”. He wasn’t kidding. “Hold on” Willie said as he turned and walked to the large BBQ pit. He put his lighter to the coals and it instantly went up in flames. It burned momentarily and quickly died down as Willie returned to our table. “Now, what can I get you guys? I got fish, chicken, shrimp, lobster…”. I had read that lobster season officially ends on Caye Caulker tomorrow so it was an easy choice for me. I convinced Karin to do the same and Willie promised to make some shrimp the girls would love. Karin said “not too much, they don’t eat a lot”. “I know-I know-I know” Willie shot back with a wink, “I have kids too.”

I asked Willie for a beer and he said “Follow me, I’ll show you what’s going on”. Apparently what this actually meant is “here’s where the beer is, help yourself and get as much as you want and at the end of the meal tell me how many you had”. After I got my beer, he motioned to Karin and the girls and said “Come on down, see the lobster”. We walked down to the dock where a man was cleaning the lobster. We watched as he cleaned and prepared about 6 of them. “Did you catch them?” Karin asks. “No, that fat guy over there did” he says pointing. We all looked to the house across the street where there was a fat man with no shirt sitting on the porch. He gave us a big smile and a friendly wave.

When we returned to our table Willie was playing golf in the sand and he invited the girls to join him while he waited for the lobsters to be prepared. We had a great time hanging out and chatting with Willie while he entertained the girls playing golf. Paige even managed to get a hole-in-one. When the fire was just right he buttered up two lobsters and slapped them on the grill. Ten minutes later he brought out two delicious BBQ’d lobster dinners with coconut rice and julienned veggies. Everything was great. Even more amazing was the sweet and tender BBQ’d shrimp that he brought for the girls. They’ve had a few bites of shrimp before, but I never saw them devour any like this. They cleaned the plate and even asked for more. It was an all around fun experience. We’ll be back for sure.


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