I haven't had Internet for quite some time, and now my laptop is running low on power and I have nowhere to connect to electricity, so I am posting without photos or editing the day-by-day record I have been keeping as a Word document below.
After lunch, he showed us all around the lodge, letting us in to a number of the rustic rooms. (There are 24.) The lounge areas looked very inviting, and Patty enjoyed the gift shop, where she purchased a nice shirt as a souvenir.
Wednesday, March 4
At 6 a.m. we pulled up anchor in the Bay of Amatique and set off for Belize, dropping anchor off Punta Gorda at 9 a.m. We dinghied into a dock, tied up and set off for Customs and Immigration and the Port Authority offices. Friendly people were happy to give us directions, and the officials were helpful and efficient as we got our passports stamped at the Immigration window, cleared Customs, received our agricultural quarantine certificate, and obtained our entrance documents from the Port Captain. Unlike many ports, the offices were all in one (air-conditioned!) building.
Punta Gorda is a clean and slow-paced town where people greet each other on the streets and welcome strangers such as ourselves. A large portion of the population of coastal southern Belize are Garífuna, descendants of Carib, Arawak and Africans who trace their origins as a culture to the windward island of St. Vincent. Originally inhabited by the Arawak, it was invaded by Caribs from South America, who killed all the men and took the women for their wives. In the early 17thcentury, the British claimed St. Vincent, Dominica and other islands, but British settlers did not become a dominant force until the mid-18th century. Meanwhile, in 1635, two Spanish ships carrying African slaves were shipwrecked off the coast of St. Vincent. The Black survivors found shelter in Carib settlements, and eventually, over the next century and half, the two cultures merged. In the second half of the 18th century, the British became increasingly intolerant of this hybrid people, who they perceived as Black, fearing that having free Black communities would undermine their authority over the Black slaves on their plantations. The British began raiding their villages, and the Black Caribs, or Garífuna, made counter-attacks. The Garífuna were finally defeated in battle and surrendered in 1796, but the British feared they would eventually try to reassert their power and rights. Therefore, they deported most of the population, about 2000 people, to the island of Roatán off the coast of Honduras, abandoning those who survived the journey with supplies for only a couple months. The marooned population flourished on Roatán, however, and established productive communities there and on the mainland coast, relying on fishing and farming. Eventually, facing persecution in Honduras in the early 19th century, they moved north along the coast, and their descendants now live on or near the coasts of northwestern Honduras, Guatemala and Belize, but predominately in Belize. We immediately noticed not only the physical differences (stature, skin color, hair) between the Maya and Ladino people of Guatemala and the Garífuna of Belize but also the difference in language and dialects. Also, the Garífuna in Punta Gorda just seemed more relaxed, open and upbeat.
Before returning to our boat, we stopped in the Cotton Tree Chocolate Shop, where a young man explained the process of making chocolate to us in a strong creole dialect which required me to focus more on his words than I generally have to do with Spanish speakers in order to understand. Then he treated us to many free samples, enticing us to buy a couple of large bars of chocolate. Actually, the aroma from a block away had probably already persuaded us. The store even sold chocolate body spray, and I wondered what it would be like to smell like chocolate. Would it stimulate the release of relaxing endorphins, or would it make me crave chocolate all the time?
We motored to some nearby offshore islands and, after barely missing a couple reefs, found a calm anchorage in the vicinity of Frenchman’s Cay, in the Mangrove Cays. Winds were about 15 knots from the ENE, so it was imperative to find a sheltered spot. The electronic charts for Belize are not as detailed as charts for other areas of the Caribbean simply because the area has not been extensively surveyed. We have a guidebook with sketch charts, which helps some, but cruisers must really rely on visual piloting to avoid unwelcome collisions which would cause damage to vessels as well as the reefs.
Settled in, I got ready to snorkel, but there was a current of one to two knots flowing past the boat, so we decided to launch the kayak from the foredeck and paddle to the mangrove islands.
Despite the wind and the currents, we easily made it to the nearest island, where I was the first to hop in. The first thing to greet our eyes in the shallow water were large cushion sea stars, some ocher, some burnt orange, all with nubby protrusions along their ridges, but there were many other delightful creatures, including an upside down jellyfish as big as a platter and a yellow line arrow crab with spider-like orange legs with violet joints and tips. And then there were the small corals and sponges, the sea cucumbers in various colors, and various algae including the lovely, fascinating sea pearl. I was amazed at the abundance of large fish in the nursery of the mangrove roots in addition to the usual juveniles. The mature fish included yellow jacks, sheepshead porgies, multiple great barracuda, grunts, snappers, sergeant majors, groupers (easily distinguished by their mouths), parrotfish in their initial phase and slippery dicks. Just before I returned to the kayak, I was startled by a five to six foot nurse shark resting on the bottom. Also startled, it quickly disappeared in a cloud of sand.
The wind had died down to about 10-12 knots when we paddled back to our boat, just in time to watch another gorgeous sunset. There are no other boats anywhere in sight, and it is very peaceful here.
Thursday, March 5
Today is Adoption Day for our daughter Katya, but we have no Wi-Fi or cell service, so we can’t celebrate with her the day in 2004 that the court in Kazakhstan ruled that she could be part of our family. We are so lucky that she is!
Last night, we had thought we would snorkel in the Mangrove Cays again before pulling up anchor, but there was too much chop on the sea, so we just headed out. The wind was not blowing in a favorable direction, so we had to motor northeast. Our first stop was for lunch and snorkeling at Seal Cay. Dropping the anchor was challenging only because there was so much coral everywhere under 10 meters that finding a sandy spot where the anchor and chain wouldn’t be ripping up the seabed was difficult. We had to make three attempts. Then we jumped into the clear water and swam over the coral reef to where the depth was only a couple of meters. We were astonished at the dense abundance of coral and the number of really large plates of hard coral, the size of the fan corals and the barrel sponges, but we were even more surprised at the lack of fish. Where were the fish? There should have large schools of various species swimming around and above the coral heads and individuals hiding and darting in and out of the unlimited crannies and crevices, but there was a dearth of moving animals. For some unknown reason, the only fish that seemed to be there in any number were gray angelfish, and I also followed one brilliant French angelfish, mostly black but with striking yellow markings and some of the body scales trimmed in gold. The large gray angelfish were unperturbed by our presence and a few even approached us to make eye-to-eye contact at close range with their yellow rimmed black eyes. From the front, their colorful lips are most remarkable. It looks as though they have applied a broad, thick swath of smoky blue lipstick. This is outlined in a thin line of white around the top and sides that then extends into an inverted triangle beneath the mouth, resembling a goatee.
After lunch, we pulled up our anchor and continued east to Tom Owen’s Cays to anchor for the night. Both small islands have accommodations for tourists, with the buildings on the western one being prosaic but the single structure on the eastern one includes a two story tower (on which an osprey was perched when we arrived) constructed of hundreds of enormous conch shells mortared with cement. In the late afternoon late, the building was gleaming pink and white.
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| Tom Owen's Cay East |
We set off snorkeling again, heading for the eastern fringe reef, which was further away than we thought but worth the exercise. We had to swim across an extensive grassy bottom to reach the reef itself. The coral itself was not as stunning as at Seal Cay, but there were numerous and varied fish. In addition to the usual parrotfish, doctor fish, wrasses, damselfish, angelfish, jacks and other species, we noticed one silvery ocean triggerfish, the golden variation of the smooth trunkfish and many types of bass, including the graysby, which is totally covered in brownish orange spots, as if it has the measles, and is distinguished by not only this delicate coloration but by three to five dark spots along the base of the dorsal fin as well as a rounded tail.
The real highlight, however, were the numerous rays swimming at the reef and even more so above the grassy bottom. Most were large, southern stingrays, with diamond shaped bodies, dark on top and creamy white underneath, pointed snouts and eyes situated in distinctive bulges on the top of their heads. Their bodies were about two feet long, a length matched by their slender, whip-like tails, sporting at least one venomous spine near the base. The best, however, was one even larger spotted eagle ray, easily recognized by the white circular spots and markings covering its dark back, its pronounced head and its wide wings extending in a graceful curve from the head to the pointed tips. Its tail, which can have up to five venomous spines, was probably five feet long, and from wing-tip to wing-tip, it was probably the same distance. They seem to float across the bottom and then rise to the surface and descend again in seemingly effortless beauty.
Swimming by numerous schools of ballyhoo just below the surface, I returned to the boat and discovered an unusual inch-long, flesh-colored fish pecking at miniscule pieces of algae on the swim ladder. I’m not sure I had ever encountered it before, but I was able to identify it as a pygmy filefish from our reef fish references.
The rest of the day passed by uneventfully with the usual activities of dinner, reading and a game.
Friday, March 6
After breakfast and listening to the weather forecast, we decided that, once again, it was too choppy for enjoyable snorkeling, and we needed to get back to the coast of Belize because of a front moving in. Strong north winds and some squalls were predicted through the beginning of next week. So we pulled up anchor and headed west toward Placencia. Fortunately, after two days of contrary wind, the wind speed and direction were in our favor, and we were able to sail close-hauled on a starboard tack at five to seven knots, and the seas were only one foot. It was delightful!
We dropped the hook off the town of Placencia along with dozens of other boats who have also prudently sought a sheltered anchorage and then enjoyed the calm, sunny weather as we watched a storm approach from the southwest. The wind picked up around 5 p.m. and we battened down the hatches in anticipation of the rain, which started half an hour later. Now, we are settled in not only for the night but for a few days. Tomorrow we will go into the town, a sleepy fishing village which has become a cruising and tourist destination. (There was a gigantic cruise ship anchored nearby when we came into the harbor.) We can see white sandy beaches and thatched roof bars and restaurants on the shore from here.
Saturday, March 7
After I wrote my post last night, the wind shifted and suddenly all the boats in the anchorage were facing a different direction. What had been a calm anchorage turned into an amusement park ride as the frequency of the waves hitting the beam caused a constant side to side rocking through an arc of 20 or 30 degrees. Looking out at the other sailboats, we could see masts weaving back and forth, some worse than others depending on the size and the type of boat. We were all stuck where we were, however, because the sun had set; it is not prudent to sail in these waters in the dark because of the amount of coral reefs and shoals. Peter and I went to bed quite early, after a quick dinner of cheese and crackers. He was amazed that I could read in bed given the motion of the boat.
This morning we pulled up anchor about 8 a.m. and motored around the southern tip of the peninsula, finding much calmer water on the lower end of the lagoon. What a relief! In the afternoon, we launched the dinghy and headed into town. After stopping to talk with fellow yachties on Pau Hana, a boat which was anchored near us in Texan Bay, we headed to shore and tied up at Yoli’s Bar and Grill. A dirt path passing by colorfully painted but somewhat dilapidated houses led us to a dirt street into the main town. There is one paved main road through town and various dirt roads running perpendicular to that. On the main street, we passed restaurants but couldn’t find any with vegetarian options. We stopped at a supermarket to get crackers and Diet Coke and then followed directions to the town’s famous 1-mile paved sidewalk, which runs parallel to the coarse sand beach on the eastern side of the peninsula. The walkway is lined on both sides with restaurants, shops, apartments, hostels and small inns with openings between many of the buildings giving views of the beach. Where there were no buildings, locals had set up shop selling barbecued ribs, chicken and fish as well as beautifully carved wooden items of sleek, heavy wood which were unfortunately overpriced, particularly in light of the cost of souvenirs in Guatemala.
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| The walkway in Placencia |
We found a restaurant along the sidewalk called Afrodite’s, where we enjoyed delicious calzones. After lunch, we continued to amble along the concrete walk to the north, but it was not as lively, so we turned around and headed all the way to the southern tip and then turned to go up the main paved road, looking for the renowned gelato at Tutti Frutti’s. Really, we weren’t at all hungry after our meal, but once we walked into the small shop and saw the array of colorful, creamy desserts, we had no thought of resisting temptation. (And, as I have always attested, there is a small part of the stomach—the dessert box—that is reserved for after-meal treats.) Peter chose Bailey’s gelato, while I had two kinds, dark chocolate and salted caramel, which made a great combination. Yummy, yummy, yummy!
We stopped for a drink at Yoli’s and chatted with a couple from London for a while. Then, just as a fine mist began to drift from the skies, we headed back to Mantra and hauled up the dinghy. I plucked the still damp laundry from the lifelines and Peter got everything shipshape on deck, and then we got settled inside before the downpours began. Damp and even a bit cold, I enjoyed a hot shower inside.
Dinner and a game of gin rummy topped off our day before another early bedtime.
Sunday, March 8
We never left the boat today. Rain was intermittent, but there was enough of it that we were able to fill about a dozen 2-liter bottles with rain water for tea and drinking water and also completely top off the two 200-gallon tanks inside the hull. We don’t need to worry about having sufficient water for a while.
I spent the day reading, studying the future tense of Spanish verbs, playing solitary games such as anagram, and making meals. Peter got a few jobs done, but there was too much rain to keep the hatch to the engine room open. I also did another small load of laundry this evening even though I am still waiting for the clothes and sheets I washed yesterday to dry. They have been hanging up for more than 24 hours! Even though it was a nice 74 degrees in the boat, we turned on the air conditioning for a while to try to help with the drying.
Peter and I played another game of Scrabble. I am on a seven game winning streak right now!
The wind has been blowing at 20 or 25 knots today. Although it has been predicted to continue through tomorrow, we are hoping that it will abate a little so that we can continue to make our way north and visit more cays.
Monday, March 9
It was still blustery today, so we stayed at anchor. The sun was shining, though, so it was a good day for laundry to dry on the lifelines. It started to spit rain at one point, so I scrambled to collect the clothes. The light rain only lasted a few minutes, but I waited half an hour before putting everything back out to dry in the heat and the breeze.
Peter replaced alternator belts yet again; they seem to wear fairly quickly, and we are not sure why. He also found that the single sideband radio was not transmitting when he tried to contact someone this morning, so he has time checking the connections and fiddling with it. When that didn’t work, he and a couple of guys had a hunch it might be the microphone, so Peter dinghied over to another boat to borrow theirs. Sure enough, the microphone was the faulty component. This evening he took it apart and tried soldering something, but it is still broken. We need a new one.
In the late afternoon, we explored some of the natural canals that separate small cays from the main, narrow peninsula of Placencia. There are some lovely homes and small resorts as well as vacant lots. We could see extensive power lines above the mangroves and trees of one of the islands from a canal but no actual structures. When we approached the area from the lagoon side, we found the leveled but abandoned land of a failed development project. After searching unsuccessfully for manatees, we tied up at a dock near the main road of town and walked to Tutti Frutti for more creamy gelato. We wandered around a bit and looked at some beautiful bowls in a shop. Although the craftsmanship is excellent, it is the sheer beauty of the smooth hardwoods that make these pieces so attractive. The colors are deep and rich, the grains of the various woods make lovely patterns and the polished surfaces seem to have a soft glow like th full moon that rose over the water after sunset this evening.
Tomorrow we definitely leave this anchorage and continue north. Friends are flying into Belize City in a couple of days, and we need to get there to meet them.
Tuesday, March 10
Even though the wind was blowing from the direction we wanted to sail, we decided to set off for the islands this morning. It took us a while to plot a course because we needed to find an anchorage with protection from north to east winds. So many of the cays offer little protective from that direction, but we finally settled on a couple of possibilities within range of a day sail (or motor, in this case). Because the wind was at a steady 17 knots, getting up the dinghy was more of a challenge than usual. And then we finally spotted (briefly) a manatee, and we waited a while to see if it would surface again. It did not. In the end, we pulled up anchor about two hours later than planned.
The seas were choppy but not high, so motoring along was not entirely unpleasant. After a while, though, it became apparent that we would not make it to an anchorage in the cays while we still had good light for spotting coral reefs, so we headed for Sapodilla Lagoon, a lovely, quiet place with protection from wind and waves from all directions. About an hour before we arrived, suddenly the autopilot went berserk, turning us hard to starboard. Even though Peter was down below and I was comfortably seated in the pilot house, he made it to the wheel before I did (although I did manage to disengage the autopilot first). After we anchored around 5 p.m. and had a very late lunch/early dinner of pasta primavera, Peter investigated and has determined that the RAT (the rudder angle transmitter) is not working. This is not easy to access; it requires taking out a lot of stuff from the aft lazarette and then crawling under the deck. We may just take turns at the wheel tomorrow rather than delaying our departure to fix it.
Before the bright moon rose, the dark sky was filled with twinkling spots of light, and we saw a shooting star leave a long glowing green trail in the southern sky as we sat on deck and played twenty questions.
Wednesday, March 11
Today is Peter’s birthday. He didn’t get anything except a card from me, but he did get good winds for sailing.
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| Peter sailing on his birthday in Belize |
Before having breakfast, we set off in the kayak at 7 a.m. to explore the mangroves and the new marina that is behind them. The marina is beautiful with 250 berths and bathhouses and a large open air restaurant and other facilities. There are, however, only a couple dozen boats there. We saw Pega, whom we encountered off Great Inagua, Bahamas and in Port Antonio and Río Dulce. Just before leaving Guatemala, we had heard that Gail of Pega had been injured in a horseback riding accident and was in the hospital in Belize City. It appears that Pete and Gail have left the boat at the marina in Sapodilla Lagoon. We must contact them when we are able.
Before 9 a.m., we set sail (before breakfast also) and found favorable winds outside the lagoon. For most of the trip we sailed close-hauled, tacking a couple of times as we headed north, averaging 5.5 knots in 8 knots of wind. Peter had loads of fun tweaking the halyard for the genoa, adjusting the downhaul, moving the traveler and doing other small things to get the most amount of speed out of a light wind. At 4 p.m., after the best day of sailing we have had for a long time, we dropped anchor in the Colson Cays in 3 meters depth.
While Peter was having his afternoon cup of tea, I jumped in with fins, mask and snorkel and headed to the mangrove cays to the east. Clarity was good but visibility was limited by poor light, as clouds had built up as the afternoon progressed. Still, I spotted one southern stingray, some juvenile gray angelfish, porkfish, grunts and jacks. Peter followed in the kayak and found the sink hole on the chart, which I swam to. There was a large school of a couple hundred grunts and some cushion stars on the bottom of the 3 to 4 meter hole, but sand coats the coral and other growth on the walls and the coral rubble has been deposited in the center, so it really is not very attractive. Peter paddled to a shallow place by one of the cays, allowing me to hop in to the kayak, and we set off exploring the mangroves. We had hoped to see nesting magnificent frigate birds, but it is probably too early in the season. We had fun slipping through a mangrove tunnel, just high enough and wide enough to allow us to use the paddles.
We had the usual quiet evening. Since we had skipped lunch, we had an early dinner and played a long game of Scrabble. I only won by one point.
Thursday, March 12
Today was another good sailing day as we sailed north to Belize City to pick up our friends, Patty and Shalako, who are spending a few weeks with us on the boat in the western Caribbean. We anchored at 1 p.m. in the open roadstead just off the Fort George pier. After a quick lunch, we launched the dinghy and headed there. Supposedly, it is a marina, but there were no boats there. When we approached, we were told it was a private dock and would cost $10 US an hour to dock our dinghy. The man told us there was public docking up Haulover Creek by the Swing Bridge, so we communicated by WhatsApp with our guests about the change of rendezvous point and headed up there. At the bridge, we could see no obvious dinghy dock. When we approached one small concrete piece of pavement on the southwest shore, a man in a water taxi told us we had to go to a wharf just downstream! So, I sent off WhatsApp messages again, knowing that they don’t always transmit immediately in this area of the world, and hoped that Shalako would get the second change in plans. At this third place, there were signs saying no public docking, and a man told us we could only pull in at the debris strewn, derelict lot on the northwest corner of the bridge. Off we started again, but the little dinghy motor suddenly died. (We had chosen the 3.5 HP engine because it was a short trip and it is easier to get in and out of the forepeak, and it had been working reliably.)
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| Local fishing boat, Belize City |
“Welcome to the Caribbean!” I texted Shalako as a man on a water taxi for the cruise ships (There were three monsters anchored offshore.) took a line and tied us up to his boat. As Peter worked on the engine and the man went off to contact a smaller water taxi to tow us, I clamored over the stern of his bright yellow and lime green boat and went in search of Patty and Shalako at the Swing Bridge, within sight but not within shouting distance. They were waiting patiently in the ferry terminal building a block away.
Back at the dinghy, Peter had repaired the dinghy motor (yet again!). Patty and Shalako stood wondering how they were possibly going to get aboard since the dock was about 5 feet above the water. As I sat down and slid down, having learned by experience how to do this type of thing, the nice local man helped load their small amount of luggage and then led them to his boat, lifted his three outboards out of the way, and helped them across his boat’s stern as we maneuvered the dinghy there and tied on. With a little trepidation, they got in. Loaded down, we set off.
It had been sunny and calm when we left Mantra, but we could see rain heading in quickly from the east, and the seas had become choppy. It was not the best introduction to life on the seas. We got fairly soaked with salt spray as we lumbered back with our little engine. As soon as we got guests and luggage aboard, we pulled up anchored to find a better place to anchor out of the channel, heading NNE across it to North Drowned Cay, where we edged our way in until we only had a half meter under the keel and dropped anchor. The rain had begun to come down in a fine mist, and we sheltered inside, finally welcoming our friends to the area down below.
It rained lightly off and on for a couple of hours and then cleared up before sunset. The western sky was glowing while to the east a vibrant double rainbow touched down on the cay in the late afternoon light.
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| Double rainbow over North Drowned Cay |
With new people on board, we always take the time to explain how to conserve water and power, how to close cabinets, where to find food and drink, how to stow things, but, most importantly, how to use the manual toilet. For men, peeing overboard is an obvious and easier option, and I have mastered the art of peeing off the swim platform at night and when there are no other people around in secluded anchorages in the daytime. I offered to show Patty how this is done, but she said she would be fine pumping the toilet thirty times. Perhaps she will change her mind after a few days of this tedious task.
After dinner, we played a game of cards, Hearts, and then got ready for bed. Patty and Shalako are in the main cabin, and Peter and I chose to sleep under the hard dodger, which is always pleasant.
Friday, March 13
We had a lazy morning and set off mid-morning, sailing southeast to Middle Long Cay. The sailing was great, the skies were clear, the weather was balmy. Just a typical day in tropical paradise. We anchored in the early afternoon on the lee side of the island near the southern tip. After lunch, it was time to snorkel. I helped get the dinghy in the water with the large outboard and then plunged in the crystal clear water to swim to shore, leaving the other behind to follow. It was a long swim over grass and sand, but I made it to the mangroves. From the dinghy, Peter had located the wrecked barge and then found a shallow place nearby to anchor the dinghy so that it would be easy to get back in. I met Peter, Patty and Shalako at the dinghy and we flippered the short distance to the wreck, which was fantastic.
It was larger than we expected, the remains of the structure encrusted with colorful coral and the entire rectangular space filled with fish. There was a school of a dozen or more sleek, silver great barracuda drifting around near the surface. Grunts, wrasses, sergeant majors and others wandered around the ruined ship. The best thing was an enormous camouflaged goliath grouper. I am not sure we have ever seen one before. I spent a couple minutes having a stare-down with it. It looked fairly ferocious with its jaws opened, revealing a streaked and mottled yellow mouth.
The rest of the day was spent watching the sunset, having dinner and relaxing before an early bedtime.
Saturday, March 14
It was another lovely day in paradise, and it was Patty’s birthday. We set off at 9 a.m. for our next destination, Turneffe Atoll. Conditions were favorable, and we were able to make it north to the main channel through the barrier reef, sailing with the main only, and then we tacked down the channel until we were in the open water of the western Caribbean, where we were able to set our course directly for the atoll. We made it with ease through the Southeast Pass, avoiding coral heads, and then tried to sneak up the southeast side of the lagoon even though the charts indicated depths of two meters. Not surprisingly, we ran aground. Instead of immediately backing up, we tried to steer to port to find deeper water, only to get ourselves well and truly stuck in the sand and grass. We tried several times to extricate ourselves to no avail. Peter decided we needed to raise the main to get more power, so we hauled her up. Then two nice Canadian men from the cat S/V Sierra Hotel, which is anchored nearby, came over in their dinghy to offer assistance. They took a line from the end of the boom and literally hung on it while we tried to move forward. It was amusing to watch them dangling one above the other even it didn’t help. They had information about the negligible tides here, and it appeared that we had no choice but to stay where we were until around midnight, when the tide might help us float free. We got ready to drop anchor, but Peter decided to give it one last try, and we made it! Not wanting to risk going aground again, we dropped anchor immediately.
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| Antoine and Andrew trying to help us get afloat |
After we got settled in, Shalako, Peter and I snorkeled over the breaking reef. It as gorgeous! Lots of colorful fish and coral, but the best thing was a giant green moray eel almost totally out of his crevasse. He was being cleaned by tiny fish.
We had hoped to go to shore for a nice dinner for Patty’s birthday, but Andrew and Antoine had told us that the island nearby, the only inhabited place, was an all-inclusive resort that didn’t allow any cruising scum ashore! Instead we had fettucine alfredo followed by dessert of chocolate.
We are closely monitoring the coronavirus pandemic. Guatemala is no longer admitting boats that have anyone on board who has been in an infected country within the last 30 days. Since Patty and Shalako have joined us, we may be more restricted in our movements in the western Caribbean. We are waiting to see if Mexico will announce the same restriction. If it does, then we will need to remain in Belize until April 11 or by-pass Mexico and sail straight for Florida from Belize. We are almost out of milk and are totally out of bread. And we have NO Diet Coke! I laid in inadequate provisions, it seems. We will get by, although Peter will not have milk in his tea nor Patty milk in her coffee. Our current plans do not take us to any place with a grocery store for about a week. I just hope there is not a run on supplies before we get there!
Sunday, March 15
This morning, a local man came by in his small canoe offering fish. We refused the barracuda, which can be contaminated with ciguatera, but accepted three small snappers. It was a barter system. First he asked for gasoline, then for cigarettes or cigars. We offered a couple of cold beers, which he accepted. Patty was surprised that he didn’t want money. But, where would he spend money out in these atolls?
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| Peter cleaning the small fish |
Our departure from our anchorage was delayed while Peter cleaned the fish, but we finally set off for Lighthouse Reef, which lies 18 nautical miles east of Turneffe Atoll. With winds from the east, we had to tack a couple of times, but it was a glorious day for sailing. When we approached Long Cay on the southern tip of Lighthouse Reef, I once again went to the bow to be on lookout for coral heads as we made our way into the anchorage on the lee shore.
After a late lunch/early dinner, just before the sun dipped below the horizon, Patty and Peter set off in the kayak to explore the mangrove shore, where they saw a ray and a large swarm of mosquitoes, from which they quickly paddled away. Shalako and I put on our snorkeling gear and swam to a small reef to the north. We passed over what can seem like endless grass and sand bottom as twilight settled in and suddenly a six to eight foot wall rose in front of us; we had reached the reef! I had brought a dive light, so we were able to meander around the coral heads. The red cardinalfish and squirrelfish really stand out in the artificial light. I came upon a large lobster who had come out of his hiding place for the night. Many of the sea creatures on the reef are nocturnal, so it is possible to see forms of life in the dark that hide from sight during daylight hours. As we swam, we bobbed up occasionally to admire the changing orange western sky and the bright white glow of Venus high in the clear firmament.
After showers on the swim platform, we all settled in for the night. No one was motivated to make another meal, so it was everyone was free to help themselves to snacks if hunger struck. We played a game of Scrabble and then turned in for the night. Patty and Shalako are in the master cabin, so Peter and I choose to sleep in the pilot house where we can see the stars. It is really pleasant to sleep outside.
Monday, March 16
As has become our routine here in Belize, we listen to the weather on the single sideband radio at 7 a.m. and then wait until 8 a.m. to tune in to the Western Caribbean Net, where cruisers usually share information about the weather and their locations and their immediate cruising plans. This is still on the agenda, but what everyone waits for every morning is the latest developments related to the coronavirus pandemic. We learned that today is the last day for anyone to enter or leave Guatemala. All borders, ports and airports will be closed for at least two weeks starting tomorrow. This does not affect us personally as we are heading north (although it will affect our friends the Barretts, who had planned to return to Río Dulce later this month). We are anxious to know what the Mexican government does. So far, there is no news. While we could sail through Mexico with our quarantine flag and not go ashore if Mexico refuses entry to boats, there is a problem for Patty, as she plans to fly home from Mexico.
Meanwhile, it is perfect in paradise. The weather is fantastic, and it is a pleasure just to sit and look at the sea, with its bands of green, aquamarine, turquoise, teal, and rich shades of blue glistening in the sunlight. After breakfast, Peter and I paddled the kayak over to the nearest of the three other anchored boats, Honey Ryder. We had a nice chat with the couple from Kansas, Sabrina and Tom, who have been relaying information for us on the Net since our ICOM microphone is not functioning. I mentioned that we were running low on milk and they said they were worried about running out of beer. We negotiated a trade of two cartons of UHT milk for six cans of Modelo! This is what it may come to—bartering—as the economic effects of the pandemic set in.
We also stopped to say hello to another boat that we had encountered in Utila, Honduras; they had recognized our boat, remembered Peter’s friendliness and were expecting us to stop by.
Sabrina and Tom had told us that there were a couple of restaurant/bars on the north shore, so we launched the dinghy and headed to dinghy dock, although Peter stopped to say hi to the other boat, Kooky Dance, before steering toward the island. We followed the wide packed sand path for about a quarter mile until we reached the first building, the lodge for Hurican Divers, where an employee welcomed us to the comfortable, large screened porch and offered coffee and water for free. Patty and I were overjoyed that we could purchase Diet Coke. Internet service was available and we used it to get in touch with our kids. For both of them, classes are cancelled but they are doing well. I learned through my family’s GroupMe app that my dad, who is 93 and living in an assisted living facility, is now confined to his room, as are all the other residents. One of his main pastimes is watching sports on television, and that is no longer available as so many games and events have been cancelled. He is allowed visitors, but only one family member a day. Peter learned that his Uncle Tim has cancer and is not expected to live much longer, so the news on the elderly people in our family was not good.
We asked about having lunch there but the extremely friendly man said that there was no lunch that day. Then he came back and told us that the next lodge down the path, Itza, was expecting us for lunch, especially preparing the local black soup and chicken. It was so nice of him to make arrangements.
The next lodge, constructed of local mahogany, was fronted by a white sand beach and offered superb views of the sea. The chef and general man in charge came out to welcome us and I told him that I was a vegetarian. He said he could make me a salad. After the waitress had brought us a pitcher of smooth, delicious soursop juice, he returned to ask me if I would like something with rice and garbanzo beans, and I told him he did not need to go to any special trouble. When the dishes came to the table, we all agreed that the fixed menu dish was a novelty for us. In a large bowl of very dark broth there was a roasted chicken leg surrounded by hard-boiled eggs that had been soaked in the broth for a while. Apparently, it was a bit spicy (for Shalako) but delicious. My meal was a delight. A variety of vegetables and the garbanzo beans were in a delicious curry sauce, and it was served with a side dish of rice. For me, it was too much food. When I asked to have the rest to take with me, the chef took my dish and returned with a large plastic container, telling me he had put everything he had left in the pan in it also. He also brought us a pineapple and four kiwi fruits to take back to the boat since he didn’t have a dessert (which we weren’t expecting) ready.
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| Iguana on Long Cay |
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| Peter, Sherri, Shalako and Patty at Itza |
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| View from Itza restaurant |
After we returned to our boat, we got ready to snorkel. Patty was not sure that she would be able to climb out of the water on the swim ladder, so she had to try it out first. Her mind and not her body is what is stopping her from eagerly embarking on adventures. All set to go, the four of us swam to the reef that Shalako and I had explored the previous evening. Light and visibility were excellent, and the fish and coral were spectacular. In addition to grunts, jacks, snappers, parrotfish, wrasses, and damselfish, we saw lovely blue chromis, foureye and spotfin butterflyfish, flameback angelfish, sergeant majors, beaugregory, cardinalfish, doctorfish and blue tang, blue hamlets, rock beauties, and many others. I found a spotted trunkfish near the outer edge of the reef and then chased down a shark that Peter pointed out to me, getting enough details to be able to identify back on board as a sandbar shark. It was about six feet long and seemed unconcerned by my presence.
After our showers, we watched a lovely sunset with just a wink of a green flash. Then Peter, Patty and Shalako enjoyed my left-over curry (There was enough for all of them.) and I had half an egg salad sandwich and some Spanish rice (also leftovers—so it was an easy meal).
Since I get up each morning at sunrise—which is about 6 a.m.--when I sleep on deck, I am tired by 9 p.m., and we all retired early.
Tuesday, March 17
As the day dawned, I watched a magnificent frigatebird chase and fight a tern for the fish he had caught. Swooping and diving, the pursued and pursuer circled the boat until the frigatebird flew away with the fish he stole. Not surprisingly, frigatebirds are called the pirates of the skies.
The weather forecast is still favorable for the foreseeable future, according to our hero, Chris Parker. On the local cruisers net, we learned that Guatemala (as well as Honduras) has indeed closed its borders and that a ferry from Mexico to Belize with Europeans on board had been turned away from the port in Belize. However, there is no other news from Mexico, so we blissfully continue on our journey through the world’s second largest reef.
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| Patty and Shalako on Mantra at Lighthouse Reef |
At 9:30, we upped anchor and motored north and then east to reach the anchorage inside Lighthouse Atoll just north of Half Moon Cay, which has been a National Monument since 1981, providing protection to the reef as well as the rookery on land where magnificent frigatebirds and red-footed boobies nest closely together in ziricote trees, which have dense green foliage and bright clusters of orange flowers. While some red-footed boobies have rusty brown bodies, the boobies that nest here have pure white bodies with black edges to their wings. The Belize Audubon Society manages the island and have built a viewing platform which allowed us to see the nests up close. Hundreds of nests fill the tops of the trees. Very close was an adult with sleek plumage and red feet beside a fluffy baby with pale feet. We saw a frigatebird fly to a nest and feed the young. We observed a fledging struggling to maneuver from limb to limb, getting its wings tangled in small branches. A few of the males were inflating their bright red throats to attract mates. It takes them up to 20 minutes to get them fully inflated.
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| Ziricote flowers |
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| Iguana, Half Moon Cay |
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| Red-footed booby |
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| Nesting magnificent frigate birds |
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| Magnificent frigate birds |
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| Adult and young red-footed booby in a nest |
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| Magnificent frigate birds |
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| One hermit crab fighting another for a shell |
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| Iguana |
After watching the birds, we ate a picnic lunch on an actual picnic table on the western end of the island, unimaginatively named Sunset Beach—cheese and crackers, dried fruit and granola bars.
Along the path to and from the bird watching platform, we saw dozens of large iguanas as well as geckos and black lizards. There was also an abundance of hermit crabs, some in small groups. We observed one large crab trying to oust another from a larger shell that it coveted. A small group of sharks was swimming near shore along a sandy beach.
Back at the dock, I put on my snorkeling gear and dove in right away from the dinghy. One of the Audubon employees who had helped us tie up had told us that there was a large barracuda and lots of fish at the end of the pier. He didn’t lie! The barracuda was plump and about six feet long. The tens of thousands of grunts swimming all around the end of the pier—the largest school of fish I have ever encountered—were oblivious to the barracuda. I remembered that the employee had told us he only ate chicken!
I swam along the northeast shore of the island toward the barrier reef of the atoll while the others went in that direction in the dinghy. Among the turtle grass, other plants and algae, there was an abundance of giant anemones in a variety of soft jewel colors, with tips in shades of lavender, magenta and lime green, depending on the base color. They swayed gently as they clung to the bases among the coral rubble scattered among the grass.
On the reef itself, where I met the others, the coral was not very interesting. However, we saw so many fish, including the ones we saw yesterday (minus a shark) as well as large lane, mahogany and mutton snappers and one really big Nassau grouper. I also saw another large lobster near shore; its body was at least ten inches in circumference.
It was reading time on the boat after our showers. After sunset, Peter prepared dinner, finally cooking the tiny snappers bartered for beer, as well as a rice dish. Patty had to do clean up afterwards as I refuse to deal with dead animals or their remains. Shalako threw the bones overboard from the stern, and Peter rinsed off the frying pan in the salt water, attracting inch-long blue fish as well as tiny creatures, some that looked like worms and some that looked like tadpoles that darted about in the frying pan when he scooped them up for observation.
It will probably be an early bedtime again tonight.
Wednesday, March 18
It was so pleasant to go to sleep again last night under the canopy of stars sparkling in the black sky. The morning started as usual with the sunrise at 6, the weather at 7 and the Western Caribbean Net at 8 a.m. We heard that Belize had refused to issue an exit zarpe (document) to a boat trying to continue on to Mexico. Since that is our next destination, this is somewhat concerning; at this point, we are just taking things day by day as governments decide how to deal with the pandemic. I must admit that I am somewhat anxious.
We set around 9 a.m. to reach a motorboat called Chickcharnie, anchored near Douglas Cay inside the reef on the west side of Turneffe Atoll. He had offered to give us a spare SSB radio microphone when he heard on the net that we were in need of one. Most of the time we sailed on a deep broad reach under sunny skies, through various shades of blue and green water, averaging six knots of speed. We anchored in three meters of water around 4:30 p.m. Don from Chickcharnie dinghied over shortly after that to deliver the microphone, for which we were very grateful. It’s comforting be able to contact the outside world during a pandemic!
It was a quiet evening. After dinner, Patty taught the other three of us how to play the card game 500, and we stayed up past our 9:00 bedtime!
Sometime in the night, it started to rain, and Peter and I had to jump up from our on deck beds, pull in the cushions and close all the hatches and retreat to the upper full-size bunk in the aft cabin. We had not slept there before but found it quite comfortable. The rain, unfortunately, was just a brief drizzle—not enough to clean all the salt above deck or collect water.
Thursday, March 19
The water around Douglas Cay was emerald green due to the thick grass on the bottom. Even though it was crystal clear, we doubted that there would be much exciting sea life to see, so we skipped snorkeling and set off for the southern end of the island around 10 a.m. With winds directly from the east at 11 to 16 knots, we were able to sail port tack, close reach. When the water became deep enough, we hauled out the genoa and increased our speed from slightly above four knots to nearly eight knots. Along the way, three large bottlenose dolphins swam to catch up with us and then cavorted around the bow wake for 15 or 20 minutes. I was always on watch on the bow, and Shalako came up to join me, delighted with this antics. Patty is only comfortable in the pilot house or cockpit, so she was not able to join us for the joy the dolphins always bring.
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| Dolphins frolicking around the boat |
We anchored close to 1 p.m. in a little over three meters of water northwest of Cay Bokal on the southern tip of Turneffe Atoll. The cay used to be larger but a hurricane washed much of it away so it is now a thin strip of exposed coral and few trees jutting out into the sea. Near to us was a ruined light tower and a newer, functioning one, and a bit further away the platform and debris of another lighthouse. After lunch and a short snooze, Peter, Shalako and I snorkeled over to the two near lighthouses. Barracuda and other fish were lurking around the pilings; on the way there, I spotted an electric ray quietly resting on the grassy bottom.
It was a somewhat strenuous swim against the current and the wind to the remains of the lighthouse and then out along the reef. There were many large coral heads with sand in between rather than a continuous reef, but there were many fish. Today’s spectacular sightings were a sand-colored oyster toadfish well-camouflaged and unmoving on a piece of coral debris, a scrawled cowfish trying to be invisible over the grass (although his coloration was brighter than the pale grass and his blue markings made him easy to identify), and several extremely large, beautiful and graceful spotted eagle rays, ebony on top with striking white markings and creamy white underneath. Their slender, barbed tails were two to three times as long as their diamond shaped bodies. They appeared weightless as they glided around, with an ease and freedom of movement that I would like to emulate.
The sunset was lovely if not spectacular. After dinner and conversation, we played 500 for eight rounds and then got ready for bed after consuming the last pieces of a dark chocolate bar we purchased in Punta Gorda. Supplies are running low. We have four eggs, two cartons of milk, absolutely no bread, no fresh produce, and, crucially, NO Diet Coke! We have rice and pasta and packages of soup and other supplies, so we are not going to starve, but the variety of meals is getting limited. According the radio net, the grocery stores are still well-stocked, so we should be able to re-supply is a couple days when we reach Cay Caulker.
There, we hope we can also fill our water tanks, which have a capacity of about 400 gallons. We are a bit below 100 gallons at this point, so we only have enough for a few more days, and rain is not in the forecast. We have never started the water maker since we purchased the boat two years ago, so we do not know if it will work. We may have to find out!
Friday, March 20
Last night, under the dome of twinkling stars, I lay awake for hours listening to the sounds of nature. Little wind waves sloshed smoothly past the hull as the blustery breeze reverberated in a deep voice as it forced its way across the canvas and through the rigging, while in the background the schlerching of the surf as the waves passed over the nearby reef created a continuous low-pitched accompaniment.
After the usual morning routine, we pulled up anchor around 10 a.m. and had a lovely sail to Water Cay, sailing on a beam reach at 8 knots. We love the trade winds! Only three hours later we anchored in the lee of the island. Then it was on to lunch and jumping in the water. Peter, Shalako and I snorkeled to the mangrove lined shore. On the way, we were approached by two quite large remoras, a fish we have not encountered before. These sleek silver fish have a lower lip that juts out and a large oval plate on the top of their long heads that they use for attaching themselves to larger fish and rays, hitching a ride. It looked like they were considering us for transportation, and it took us about ten minutes to shoo them away with our fins as they kept circling back to try again. In the lagoon, visibility was poor, but we were able to pop right up under the branches of trees and observe cormorants drying their wings. We were close enough to see distinct feathers and the golden-yellow of their beaks.
For Shalako, Patty and me, it was a quiet evening of reading as Peter spent time in the engine room (which has probably missed him!) seeing if the water maker might work. As far as we know, it was functional when we bought the boat two years ago, but it has been pickled since before our purchase and we have never used it. By 8 p.m., having had little sleep the previous night, I could not keep my eyes open, and I made up my bed and was out well before everyone else.
Saturday, March 21
On the Net this morning, we heard that the Belize City airport is closing after the last flight out on Monday. Patty, who had planned to fly home from Mexico, had to decide if she wanted to catch one of the last flights or remain on the boat until we get to port in Key West, Florida. We will not be able to check out of Belize on the boat and therefore, even though Mexico is still open to pleasure craft, we will not be able to check in there. While we can spend some time at anchor off the Yucatán coast, we will not be able to go ashore. She has decided to stay despite the fact that she may run out of medication before we finally dock.
Shortly before 10 a.m., we upped anchor again and made our way to Cay Caulker, where there are shops, restaurants, a fuel dock where we can get water (We think.). We desperately need to re=provision. It was another lovely day on the water; with the main and the genoa, we cruised along for a good portion of the trip at nearly 8 knots.
Now we are anchored off the town, and I am hoping that we will find a bar or restaurant where we can sit for a while and use the Internet—and, fingers crossed, have a Diet Coke with a glass of ice.
Sunday, March 22
Still anchored at Cay Caulker. We had a lovely dinner in town last night and I used the Internet, but everything was closing up before I had the chance to post to the blog. We booked one of the last flights out of Belize City last night for Patty, and she left on the ferry in the early afternoon. She will stay in the city tonight and leave tomorrow morning. I was very worried about her staying since we do not know now when we will clear into another port. We heard this morning that the port in Key West is now closed for one month.
We have filled up with fuel and water and I have purchased a lot of provisions. Now Shalako, Peter and I are sitting in a lovely café, the Happy Lobster. We are the only customers. Cay Caulker is a very popular tourist destination usually, particularly with backpackers and European travelers, but the unpaved streets are nearly deserted. There are about 15 boats in the anchorage, most with only two people aboard, so the town, which has numerous restaurants, shops and tour guides to the reefs is going to be relying on the patronage of about 3 dozen people for the foreseeable future. The tour guides won’t get any business since we all have our own water transportation.
Many of the yachties are choosing to stay in Belize indefinitely rather than return to the US or Canada because they believe that it is safer here in terms of the pandemic.
