I am coming to terms with these revelations, and finding solace in the solitude of my night helm shifts in which very little can be seen and the mind must be driven into a pure Zen state that allows a purer understanding of oneself through the destruction of any ability one would have to think about the problems at hand in any way but a purely "big picture" way. This being said, I have now vowed to make necessary changes to conform to the needs of the many as well as the needs of the one. These changes are coming quickly to the front of my being and the Caribbean is creeping steadily into my very soul. My only fear and consolation {funny it can be both} is that this love of this place will never leave me.
Well said mates.
We continued onward through these meditative waters. For the first time nothing broke. There wasn't a crisis. We began to feel that we were healing, and I include Faith in that. The columniation arrived as we � as a functional team � sailed up to the south end of Chinchurro Banks Reef on the evening of Sunday the 15th. The reef is one of the only atolls in the Caribbean, just off the Mexican/Belize boarder. It is also completely invisible at the surface of the water. Wrecks litter the east side of the reef, marked on our chart as little half-sunken boat-shapes. Slowly, carefully, we approached the color change delineating the shallows from the deep. We watched over the side as the bottom came up to meet us, a touch we very much desired to avoid. At last, just yards from a coral forest whose branches came inches shy of breaching the surface, we let the anchor fall gently to the bottom.
We unpacked the flippers, masks and snorkels. Our breath came fast as we prepared for the plunge and � the world under the sea welcomed us! We swam about the boat like children, for everything was new. Each fish was brightly swatched in yellows, blues, greens�.wait, that brown one is invisible under that coral overhang! There's a conch shell! Wow, look at the size of that round thing! I don't even know what that is!! Later, drying in the last rays of the day's allotted sun, we grinned like fools. Tired in the most relaxed sort of way, we all drowsed and finally slept. Very, very well.
I woke first, checked the time (10:30 pm) and roused the others. We whispered to each other not because it was necessary but as an instinctual reverence for the solitude. The mainsail was raised as the anchor line was retrieved, our about face away from the reef was accomplished with only the ruffle of the sail. We wouldn't try the engine and break the silence here. In gratitude the wavelets whispered in the coral behind us.
Perhaps coral reefs talk to each other. We sailed the night through, arriving off the town of San Pedro, Belize, about 10:00 the next morning. Here the harbor is sheltered by a reef that stretches for miles either way with one navigable break. A break we had a great deal of respect for. And it let us pass unmolested. What little surf there was had a familiar diction to its babbling, lyrical language�a peculiar whisper one might have heard somewhere before�
And so here we were, anchoring among our kind (that would be travelers in boats building stories of their own) with the plams on shore waving us in. I think that we are realizing that the power of this place � the fabled Caribbean � is in its allowing one (sometimes, ironically, by force) time to contemplate. You aren't freezing, you aren�t starving, you aren't hustling from one moment to the next. You are warm. You are satiated. You are HERE. And so we are. Sweet, sweet dreams�.