Belize and the home run

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Well I am actually writing this final entry from my friends flat in Bristol on a very wet rainy summers day back in Blighty whilst trying to conjure up a different kind of watery experience! I already feel a long way away from the sand and beaches of Belize, and its getting harder to go back a just a few weeks and remember what it was like so I had better get this written before it disappears entirely......
I'll just have another cup of tea first though.......

One of the trickiest things with a boat is working out how long it will take you to get somewhere. You have a fairly limited speed range and all sorts of factors which affect it. While we were sailing we calculated the distance for our journey and then figured we would average about 5 knots, this is easy enough to do with the engine on but when sailing the wind changes a lot and we do anywhere between 3.5 and 6, however if its really great sailing we can sometimes be creaming along at 8. Most of the trip was fantastic sailing and we hardly used the motor but as on this leg sometimes we found ourselves going too fast and trying to work out how to slow down, but its very hard to judge because 5 minutes later of course the wind drops and you are going too slow. We always tried to arrive at our new destination in the morning leaving us time for any cockups or if all went well a few more hours sleep then time to explore. At 3 am, in the dark and knowing there is a scary reef out there somewhere its always tempting to hove-to, stop still for a few hours and get some sleep while still in open water which is what we did on this leg, it turned out to be a little over cautious though. The day dawned with a lovely sunrise but very windless and it took us a lot longer to get to the reef than we had thought so we decided to take a short cut through a gap in the barrier reef called Sapodilla cut and anchor off Nicholas Cay for the night before heading across the inner reef to the mainland the next day. Belize is renowned for its sailing and diving because of this reef. The reef extends all the way down the country about 30 nautical miles off the mainland in some places and its possible to sail most of the way up the coast in behind it, protected from the waves but making the most of the trade winds blowing in over it, whilst visiting all the tiny little sandy islands within it.
We were both pretty tired and while Guy jumped in for a swim and a wash I couldn't find the energy to explore this little paradise and besides I had long stopped worrying about showers and that kind of thing, or the fact that my hair was probably stiff enough to stand up on its own by now!
So much for these trade winds then, the rest of our sailing in Belize was completely windless and we motored the whole way starting from the next days run to the mainland. We reached the mainland after a very dull journey and sailed up river to check in with the port captain at Big Creek where we were incredibly lucky to find the immigration officer. Normally we would have to have got a taxi into the nearest town and back meaning staying the night in Big Creek which was essentially a banana shipping port. He had just finished clearing a boatload of people on some sort of passenger boat from Guatemala and was in a hurry to get home so very grumpily stamped our passports from the seat of his car without so much as looking at us or even uttering a word. Thank you very much sir....then the health lady came on board and took away all our limes, damn... no Cuba libras tonight...and our banana skins (but let us keep the insides...great) and we were done. At anchor off the little village of Placencia and drinking limeless rum and coke within an hour!
Placencia was a nice little place, even more Caribbean feeling than the bay islands with guys playing dominoes on tables by the beach, little boardwalks leading through the sand to bars and cabanas, and street signs with names like Ole Wife and Bruk Pat (see if you can work that one out, you have to say it with a Jamaican accent.....got it?) and a funny collection of restaurants and shops to cater for the well off tourists who were wandering around town.
The storm which we had sailed through had hit this area quite hard and washed out the bridge which was the only road access to Placencia from the mainland so when we got there they were having a shortage of eggs and flour because the deliveries couldn't get through.
I went for one very expensive days diving back over on the outer reef and sped past all these tiny little paradise islands on the way, which I never did manage to find on the map. I really wanted to dive with the whale sharks that come to Gladden spit every year to feed on spawning fishes eggs and krill. they show up for a few days at full moon from March to June but our timing was not quite right, I will have to plan better next time.
A couple of evenings we ran over to a little bar on the caye just off the town, from where the anchor lights of all the boats in the bay twinkled like constellations, and I had a deadly mango margarita which meant I nearly fell in getting back to the boat and we also went over for drinks on another boat owned by a guy from my dive trip along with another canadian couple we had met, all very pleasant and such a change from backpacking that I was beginning to wish I hadn't booked my flight home after all!
From Placencia we motored up to Coco Plum Cay, where we found a lovely but deserted resort called Thatch Caye, where the manager motored over as we anchored to invite us to use their mooring buoys and the bar. We later wandered around the darkened island looking for the bar and eventually found the owner in the only cabin with a light on who insisted on getting the bar man and opening up just for us.
Next we sailed on to the Bluefield range which was a beautiful cluster of islands with turquoise waters and a lagoon in the middle. I had heard there were manatees living in the lagoon, but of course our cruising guide was written in 1991 so they had moved on since then and in their place was a healthy colony of mosquitos. Little did we know that this was nothing compared to our next stop but I'll get to that shortly.
The next morning we woke up to the most windless day yet. The water was like a mirror with the clouds all reflected back in it, so clear I just had to jump in for a float, marveling at how clear the water was and how little of it there seemed to be underneath our keel (Hmm.... I wondered to Guy, could the depth sounder be out by a couple of feet?) before we set off to pass out through the reef again on our way to Turneffe island which is one of the outer atolls.
We had decided to cut a corner across the aptly named 12ft Bank, a wide consistently shallow area, because I was determined to see if I could dive at Turneffe island and hopefully do the famous Blue Hole on the neighboring Lighthouse reef which would mean some backtracking a concept which was really bugging Guy. I was on the helm and all was going well until the depth sounder started dropping slowly, we were both busy watching it as it got close to only 8 feet of water under us when I looked up and noticed the stick right in front of us.
Oh shit......
In the bay islands they had used sticks or posts to mark reefs and sand banks but this one was literally a twig, needless to say we made a sharp left and went a long way round it. I was a relief to find the deep water channel again without any further shallows and even more so when a few moments afterwards we hit a heavy rain squall which meant we couldn't see anything for more than a few meters around us.
We wanted to anchor close to a resort on Turneffe Island so that I could dinghy in and ask if I could get on a dive trip, however the water was too shallow to get in close and we even managed to bump a bit of coral trying. A guy called David came over to say hi from another boat there and warn us about the mosquitos, I asked him what he thought the chances of going diving with the resort were, he wasn't very hopeful but I thought I would go and try my luck anyway. The resort was absolutely beautiful with little cabins fronted by their own little swimming bays sculpted out of icing sugar white sand. I wouldn't say I got a frosty welcome exactly, as the manager was quite polite and friendly but made it quite clear that it was a private resort and .....no, drinks in the bar were not even permitted for visitors....by the way how did I get here?....and I'll just walk you back to your dinghy then shall I?
So that was that, luckily David said he thought he could cobble together a dive kit for me as he was planning to do The Elbow dive just at the end of the island. It was a real DIY dive and I am sure my BSAC dive club would be horrified by it! I was a little nervous too but you only live once (although not so long probably if you do this sort of thing enough times). So we waved goodbye to Guy and took Davids dinghy out till we could see the drop off of the reef. The Elbow itself is when the old and new lighthouse structures line up in case anyone else wants to find it so we started up current of it, put our kit on and jumped in with David holding the dinghy anchor on its 20m chain and there you go ....a DIY drift dive towing the dinghy along with you. I lived to tell the tale anyway and it was a lovely dive with masses of black fan coral. The current was much slacker than it normally is there which was good for us towing the dinghy but probably meant not so many big fish were out but still...cant have everything, I was just happy the trip there hadn't been in vain.
The previous evening after being escorted off the resort island I had been chased back to the boat by a herd of mosquitoes which appeared to have been congregating in my dinghy waiting to get me and I weaved a haphazard course back whilst trying to kill them all. By the time I got on board they had managed to get me three or four times despite the arm waving and so I went straight in and covered myself in repellent and put the long trousers on. Guy figured I was overplaying it and stayed up on deck in just shorts while I got back in the dinghy to take some nice photos of the boat as the sun set. Literally 15 minutes later we were attacked by swarms of mozzies.
I sat huddled in the cockpit laughing as Guy flapped ineffectively at them swearing, even our resident gecko came out on deck, attracted by them and had the meal of his life hunting them down as they buzzed against the windows, distracted enough to let me get close enough for once to get a photo of him. Then we had to spray the inside of the boat with Raid, seal it up and wait for them all to die. Guy couldn't even wait the full 15 minutes though and went and sat in the toxic fumes rather than stay outside and get bitten, then we spent the rest of the evening with all the hatches closed sitting, sweating, in front of the fan.
We set off before sunset the next day for our last Belizian destination, San Pedro on Ambergris Cay partly to avoid a repeat mozzie attack and so that we would arrive in the morning.
Apart from the diving San Pedro didn't appeal much after the laid back little places we had stopped at but after touching bottom again two or three times trying to get a anchorage closer to the town (I was right about the depth sounder! It was indeed out...1.3 feet out to be precise) we set it down just behind the reef and off I went diving again.
The reef at Ambergris is only a few hundred meters off the shore and so I did a couple of great dives within sight of where we anchored and then signed up for the expensive Blue Hole trip the next day after various people said it was a cant miss trip. Damn it, so I paid for 2 hours worth of speedboat petrol to go almost back to where it had taken us 12 hours to sail from the day before!
Luckily they were right and it was an absolutely spectacular days diving.
As we approached the Blue Hole itself, made famous by Jacques Cousteau, we could see the water change from the pale turquoise of the shallows we had been passing over, where we were skimming coral and scattering stingrays, to a deep, deep blue where it just dropped away to over 140m deep. The Blue hole used to be a succession of caverns above sea level, the roof of each cavern collapsing in and the sea levels rose.
Our dive took us down to 40m, dropping in over the edge into the dark where there were 3 or 4 sharks waiting for us, watching this amusing spectacle as these little rubber people swam in behind the huge stalactites and under the overhang behind them. At that depth you don't get much time before too much nitrogen is forced into your bloodstream and you have to start ascending again. We had a total of 8 minutes including the time it took to get down there but what a fantastic 8 minutes it was!
The next 2 dives at Half Moon Caye and long Caye were just as spectacular with big manta rays, beautiful corals and clear, clear water.
The next day we planned to clear out of San Pedro and head up to Tulum on the way to Isla Mujeres in Mexico. Immigration took so long for once though that we decided to change the plans and just head straight for Isla that afternoon.
This was going to be my final sail and I was suddenly feeling very nostalgic for all the things I had seen on my travels. It was great sailing again at last and with the wind and current with us we were racing along. As we sailed I played over in my head all my favourite bits of my trip, some of them seemed like years ago. I didn't even want to go down below and sleep so that I could make the most of this last journey and stayed up as we sailed quietly through the gap between the mainland and Isla Cozumel, looking at all the lights, trying to figure out which direction all the boats around us were going and trying our best to slow our speed down after such a great days sail. I was very happy to have had one last great sail to end the trip, it was only marred by the demise of our little gecko, who somehow got up on deck and must have been sitting by my feet. I first noticed something odd when I saw what I thought was a little maggot wriggling around but soon realised it was his tail. I must have stepped on him but although tail-less he seem OK but a little in shock. When Guy came up into the cockpit I told him to watch out for him as he was just under the step down to the galley. We then had to adjust the sail though and Guy must then have stepped on him too. In the end I had to scrape him up with a spatula and with a little tear in my eye give him a sea burial. On deck is no place for a gecko I guess, very sad but I guess he probably wasn't going to like the cold weather much up north anyway.
It was a very strange sight to see all of the high rises of Cancun as the sun came up on what felt like the end of my trip. We had arrived without realising that Mexico was one hour ahead and without realising that it was also Saturday so when we motored into see the Port Captain he had already gone for the weekend. So instead Guy negotiated a rate for a marina which meant electricity and unlimited showers! Then set about relaxing with a few beers and chatting to an Aussie round the world yacht racer called Storm, who seemed to know everyone and everything(about Isla that is).
Guy and Storm did their best to persuade me that I was foolish for thinking about taking my flight home, telling me I would regret it after a few days back in Blighty. I confidently told them I had absolutely no doubts about it and was looking forward to everything that awaited me back home...I hadn't left England for any sort of spiritual, finding myself journey or because I didn't like my life back home and so it didn't apply. Then of course spent the next 24 hours getting nervous about the whole idea after all.
It didn't last long though and after clearing immigration said my goodbyes to Guy and the boat I rushed off to fit in one last quick adventure...diving the ceynotes near Tulum...with hardly a backwards glance.
I literally caught a bus to Tulum, checked into a hostel, woke up, did two spectacular dives in the caverns, spent the afternoon on the beautiful beach at Tulum, had one last farewell Margarita and got the bus back to Cancun in order to catch my flight the next morning. And so ended my Latin American oddysey. There was no big party, no one to see me off and no real feeling that it was all over...just another bus, another plane and on to another adventure, all be it with a lot of great memories and a good tan to show for it. And why not hey, there will always be a next time.
Ciao amigos, vayan con dios (o quien se guia)!

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