Belize
Wednesday 08/04
Caye Caulker
Caye Caulker is a quaint tiny island nestled in the barrier reef. The locals are an eclectic interbreeding of so many peoples that no one is "typical." They are so laid back, they're virtual horizontal! Reggae and punta music prevail, mixed in with Spanish and American pop. The three streets are sand, and there are no cars, only golf carts. The people speak a highly rhythmic, almost musical creole. Guidebooks say it uses tons of archaic British vocab, but nothing they say is remotely intelligible as English to us. They also speak a more standard English which we can understand if we pay close attention. They are friendly and love to chat. As I wander, several people stop me to say: "Oh, you're so WHITE! Do you have enough cream on?"
The highlight of the island: two days of diving on the reef. During our first dive, at Hol Chan Marine park, a curious sea turtle approaches with two huge remoras stuck to his belly. He's about 3' in diameter, and wants to play; we hitch rides on his shell. He seems particularly attracted to Irene, and follows her around forever! We dive to about 60' , through long sand-bottomed alleys between canyons of stunning coral gardens. There is so much life I don't know where to look: colourful brain coral, sea fans, stag's antlers, so many other things I can't name. We disturb a huge graceful eagle ray from his restingplace in the sand.
Cynthia, our GAP guide, gets cozy with a nurse shark
We then head out through the breaking waves (one of which goes right over our heads, drenching us) to the outer edge of the reef to dive a shipwreck. As soon as we get into the water, there are two large nurse sharks (6 feet+) circling around; they follow us all the way down to the wreck. It lies about 80' down, where hurricane Mitch has shifted if 45 degrees and half-buried it in the sand. Through a hole in the deck, Tage coaxes out an enormous 5' bright-green moray eel. While the eel is snapping at Tage, I stroke its sides - it feels like velvet.
Later, we head to Shark-Ray Alley, where the water is about 10' deep and crystal clear with a flat sandy, grassy bottom. Tage, our divemaster, throws sardines into the water, and we are suddenly surrounded by dozens of nurse sharks and rays with blue-tipped fins. We get into the water and snorkel with them - they seem quite indifferent to us. Tage helps me hold a 4' shark and rub its belly - the skin is like sandpaper.
Me! Photo: S. Piercey
Friday 08/06
San Ignacio
Barton's Creek - a Maya Burial Cave. We hire a local guide, David: he is a soft-spoken, gold-toothed, silver-tongued Rasta with gorgeous elbow-length dreads; he's a born entertainer.
The cave is amazing - we go in by canoe, holding the two canoes together; Emma and I in front holding spotlights. In some places, the ceiling soars hundreds of feet above us; in others we have to lie back flat as the stalactites brush over our noses.
David is very knowledgeable, and a wonderful storyteller. This cave was the burial place of the Maya. We see skeletal remains and pottery: big pots that held food offerings; medium pots with chunks broken away to release the soul; small pots to collect the dripping holy water. The cave was believed to be the passage to the underworld/afterlife.
The rock formations are spectacular - it's hard to believe there can be so many in one single cave. David tells us about stalactites, stalagmites, curtains, bacon, shimmering salt formations ... The fruit bats create deep divots in the ceiling with the acidity of their saliva. Glue worms leave shimmering curtains of tiny hanging filaments - they almost look like delicate fibre optic cables. Green plants grow from seeds in the droppings of bats, far from where the sunlight ever reaches.
A mile and a half in, we approach a chamber that is filled with screeching, fluttering bats. David says we will turn around here, as the bats carry diseases dangerous to humans. On the way back out, he plays us a beautiful tune on a xylophone of stalactites. The cave is more beautiful and spiritual than any cathedral, with the music of dripping water and silence.
Nearing the entrance, David shuts off the lights, and we are in absolute darkness. I can hear everyones hushed breathing. It is so black and so still that I can't even tell we are moving until a tiny spot ahead begins to slowly swell into the cave entrance.
Onward to Guatemala...