The Cayes Of Belize

The Cayes Of Belize


Exploring the Cayes of Belize ( pronounced Keys ) is a fascinating, and wondrous experience. The diversity of wild life is unparalleled in the Western Hemisphere. Belize, a small English speaking country bordering Mexico, and Guatemala in Central America, is an oasis of divergent cultures in Latin America. The friendly people, combined with the largest Barrier Reef in the Americas, make for an unforgettable Caribbean delight. This is but a taste of the variety, and unexpected pleasure that await the adventurous traveler.
This is the story of my voyage into the unknown. I covered less than half of the reef on this particular expedition. I have seen most of the reef on other excursions, but detailed accounts of those journeys wait for another day. With the presence of El Nino, and the fact that this trip was done alone with no guide besides a GPS, ( Global Positioning System ) and my best friend, Tim Budd, I thought you would find this entertaining. In an open 22 foot wooden skiff, with a 40 H.P. engine. A little experience in open sea, and with more guts than brains, we made it to Tobacco Caye and back to San Pedro. I don’t recommend this in hindsight for anyone but it was the greatest adventure I’ve had in years! The only thing that rivals it was driving through Guatemala during the revolution in 1991!
Our starting point was San Pedro, Ambergris Caye, Belize. Ambergris Caye is the largest, and northern most island in Belize. The Mexican border is at the northern tip of the island. The local people are a mix of Mayan, mequitzo, Brits, Americans, Garifuna, Creoles, and Mexican immigrants. A real melting pot! Unlike the U.S., racism has much less meaning here. Where would you start? Slavery never worked out well as you had to be armed to work the logging camps on the main land. Each slave was given an ax for cutting, and a gun to protect himself from jaguars and other predators. A bad Master simply disappeared. It was abandoned in the early 1800’s as impractical. You will read that Belize was a colony of England. The truth is that there was a business relationship involving exclusive rights to the mahogany, in return for protection from the Spanish. It was broken many times, by both sides. Belize was founded by pirates ( called Baymen ) who held no allegiance to anyone but themselves. It’s the freest country in the world! You are free to fail and die. You are free to succeed. There is no safety net. I call it Disneyland with no guard rails!
Our journey began at 3.00 o’clock, the 20th of November 1997. We got a late start because of the celebration of Resettlement Day, a national holiday in Belize. It commemorates the 19th of November, the day the Garifuna people escaped slavery on Roatann Island and began a new life in Belize. It is a great, and honorable story. An epic battle for freedom, that requires a full telling of it’s own. We were late as we helped set up the sound system for the traditional Garifuna music called “ Punta “. Tim also had to do the grades for the semester at San Pedro High School where he teaches music. Tim Budd lives in San Pedro with his wife and family. He teaches music at the school, and plays for tourists at night. I would be remiss to not inform you that he is also the brother of my wife, and father to my nephew. We are family, but that doesn’t help you on the high seas! Each man MUST pull his own weight! It was hell getting out, due to family obligations, so we just left when we could. This left us slightly unprepared, as you will learn in the upcoming pages.
Our first destination was Caye Caulker, the neighboring island to the south. We made landfall at dusk. There is a small village on the seaward side of the island. Our intention was to stay there for the night as the boat would be safe on this small atoll, free of major crime. Petty theft is rampant in Belize, and precautions are always necessary. There is a shortcut to the seaward called The Split. It was caused by hurricane Greta in the early eighties, and created a channel through the middle of the island. We had trouble negotiating the water as it was low tide. That, combined with a rare North wind, made the water extremely shallow. We missed the channel and ran aground for a short while. We carefully backed out and found the narrow channel. When we arrived at the other side we were surprised to find the once teeming bar and restaurant at the point gone. The previous owners had lost their lease and it was replaced by a fancy condo. Not much to our liking! Darkness was complete at this point but we decided to go on to the next island, Caye Chapel, anyway. Tim had old friends there, and we could either bunk with them, or sleep on the boat. We could see the lights of the power station in the distance, so navigation should be no problem. Wrong! As you will see. We returned to the leeward side and merrily set course for Caye Chapel.
Navigating at night is no picnic even when you know the waters. We made the island just fine, but missed the entrance to the man made harbor. Caye Chapel is under heavy construction at this writing. A new sea wall, golf course, and hotel are being built to accommodate the richer tourists beginning to discover Belize. As we neared the shore the engine died. The wind was pushing us hard to the south. Tim jumped overboard with a life vest on, in the attempt to pull us to the sea wall. The sun tarp was acting as a sail, dragging us further southward. Tim was tiring very quickly. I tore off the fabric as quickly as possible in the dark and as Tim was about to give up....his feet touched bottom. We pulled the boat in, cursing to ourselves for not simply throwing anchor and solving the engine problem. A valuable lesson was learned that night.. Throw anchor and Think in an emergency! As first mate I was caught completely off guard as a quick assessment revealed that the anchor rode was fouled by our gear under the bow! The rode is a length of chain attached to the anchor line to keep the line from being severed by rocks, or coral. Can you say Stupid! We had our first clue as to what we were really doing. The sea is no place for stupidity or complacency. This wasn’t some inland lake in the states. This was the ocean, in some of the most treacherous, reef studded waters in the world! A reality check was in order, and we’d almost had to pay the bill!
The engine problem was caused by water in the gas. We were able to restart the engine, and limp in on one cylinder. An over haul was due in the morning to strain the fuel, clean the plugs and carburetor, and replace the worn plug wires with new ones I’d brought from State Side. We moored in, and were able to get a room at the old hotel at a discount. Sea law dictates helping sailors in distress. We were the only tenants as the hotel wasn’t really open. The employees kitchen gave us a hot meal and we spent a merry night with Tim’s friends, a couple from Canada, who ran the tug boat for the supply barges. We planned on doing our repairs and shoving off the next day. Over night the Norther picked up steam and by morning we had a full fledged storm on our hands. No way we could leave in that so we just chilled and waited out the worst of it.
The next morning was dark and gray but the howling wind had died. The forecast was for squalls and rain but nothing like what we’d been waiting out. Having done our repairs we waited for a break in the squalls and shoved off. Our destination....Belize City to refuel and gather the supplies we’d forgotten in our hasty exit from San Pedro. The boat carried only a six gallon fuel tank. This necessitated siphoning gas from larger inboard tanks quite often. No big deal in calm seas but dicey when heaving in a five foot ground swell with high surface chop. We soon learned this as a big squall hit us just after leaving the harbor. Visibility shrank to a few hundred yards and we had to negotiate a difficult strait called Port ‘O Stuck! They don’t call it Port ‘O Stuck for nothing! Thank God the GPS was working as dead reckoning was out of the question. We cleared the strait O.K. but needed to refill the tank just south of Hicks Caye. I soon got used to the tossing sea, and attendant difficulty, but this was my first time. We nearly lost the tank, and me, over the side as I learned what the term “Sea Legs “ means. The squall cleared and we made landfall at the dock at the Fiesta Hotel. We chose this pier for it’s relative security, as a trip to Brodies Supermarket was in order, as well as refueling. The dockmaster watched the boat, and we hailed a taxi to take us into the heart of Belize City for groceries.
Belize City is not for the faint of heart. Better known as Disease City, it is the anus of the country, both figuratively and literally. Crime is a problem. Street hustling is the national past time. Tourists are prime targets. They have a special police force, called the Tourist Police, assigned to protect foreigners. First time tourists should beware! If you don’t speak Creole the next thing you know, you are at the American Consulate needing a new passport. O.K., I’m exaggerating... but only a little. I’ve been there many times, and Tim speaks quite passable Creole. We still watch our backs! I’ve always said that if a hurricane destroyed Belize City no one would know the difference. It does have one major redeeming quality. You can get anything there. From computers to auto parts it’s the only sure source of quality manufactured goods. Prices are very high...as much as double what you pay in the States but when you need it, you need it. Brodies Supermarket has everything! Goods from all over the world. Much more than a State Side grocery store. We stocked up, not knowing what we’d really need, and taxied back to the Fiesta. Next stop...Tobacco Caye!
We shoved off with the wind at our backs, a beautiful day developing, and great anticipation of exploring the reef. Local captains thought we were crazy Gringos and made us leave a detailed record of our itinerary, so they would know where to come looking for us. Their warnings were noted, but not accepted. Hell, we’d survived the revolution in Guatemala, “They “ said we were crazy then. We’d survived the Poptum Highway from Tikal to Guatemala City. The worst road I’ve ever seen! At one point a chicken made better headway than we did! “They “ said that couldn’t be done either. We had dealt with gangs in San Blas, Mexico. Ran road blocks in Chichicastanego. Cigarro bandits in Honduras. This was easy... wasn’t it?...
At first it was. What a beautiful cruise that day. We shot south southwest, past North Drowned Caye, straight down the inner channel to Middle Long Caye. Turning due south we passed through the Bluefield Range, Alligator Caye, and on to Southern Long Caye. The water in this area is gorgeous. Crystal clear, filled with wildlife, and multi colored beyond belief! We saw Dolphins, Eagle Rays, Flying Fish, and myriad’s of other fish, and birds. To detail the beauty would take a volume in itself! As we rounded Long Southern Caye the water changed. Very shallow and full of massive coral heads. We nearly hit one at high speed when I had the helm and Tim was draining the bilge. He saw it at the last moment, and screamed, “Hard to Port!”. I turned us hard and came to a full stop. Whew! It was close. Navigating the shallows requires reading the color of the waters ahead very closely. I stood on the bow shouting instructions to Tim at the helm. Green means sea grass: It won’t grow in less than three feet of water. Good! Purple means coral heads: Stop! Find a way around them at slow speed. White means sand: You are stuck! Yes, you’re right, we got stuck!
So... here we are, miles off shore, no one around, and stuck in the sand! Backing out didn’t work this time. The chart said we were in twelve feet of water. It lied! The sand bars are constantly shifting, making charts no more than a guide line. I jumped overboard and started pushing. We looked for the Cat’s Paws. A small ripple you can spot that indicates a channel. It was fun in a sick sort of way. We were laughing at our own stupidity. What else can you do? I had to be careful to not make it worse. It’s hard to tell which way to push. We finally spotted a sail boat in closer to the reef. The Channel! Closer to the reef of all places. I pushed that way, and after a while the water started getting deeper. Strange? The reef itself is only about three feet deep before it crests at the surface. The channel runs just inside of it. We sighted the Cat’s Paws, and started the engine back up. We followed them ‘til we sighted our goal....Tobacco Caye!
Tobacco Caye is the embodiment of paradise. From a distance it looks uncannily like Gilligan’s Island. A small spit of coconut covered sand in the middle of the greatest Barrier Reef in the Western Hemisphere! You can literally walk to the reef from it. We reached it just before sundown and moored at the public dock on the leeward side. An investigation was in order to see if there were accommodations available. We were surprised at the sight of European women sun bathing topless at the dock. Surprising, considering the remoteness of the place. It turns out to be a great get away place for divers exploring the other side of the cut. While only three feet deep on the lee side of the reef...It’s two hundred feet deep to the seaward! We tied up and went to investigate the possibilities of a dry bed.
There are actually two possibilities for rooms there. A small hotel of sorts with a kitchen, or a group of small bungalows with solar power and a kitchen for family style meals. We choose the latter for an agreed upon price of $45.00 U.S. a night for two, with meals. A small bar adjoined the kitchen and we got to know the proprietor, Mark, very well. He suggested we move the boat to the seaward side, next to his, and tie up for the night in safety. We gratefully agreed. He even had a hot water shower and flushing head at our disposal! What luxury! There was a birthday party going on that night for one of the forty or so locals, so we joined in and had a blast! Island life is very close knit. We were honored to be invited as Gringos are usually considered outsiders. The fact that we showed up out of the blue, in our own boat, with no guide, gained us a small measure of respect. Our room rate went down to $40.00 Bz., which is less than half the going rate. We decided to stay an extra day and enjoy the beauty of the reef and these wonderful people!
I make no bones about it. I’m a water sports nut! I had my wake board, ski rope, and vest with me. To be the first guy to Scurf down the front of Tobacco Caye was a super rush! I did a 360 in front of the whole population, and laughed as I wiped out. We ran up and down until I was winded, and decided to snorkel The Reef. We ran the boat in very close and double anchored, as no one would stay aboard. The teeming wildlife was indescribable. You had to be careful swimming or you would hit fish with your arms! The brain coral was filled with catacombs, hiding species I’d never seen before. A school of Jacks of at least five hundred sauntered through. Moray eels, Lobster, Anemones, you name it, it was there! More spectacular than anything I’d seen in Cozumel, Puerto Escondido, Southern Belize, or Hol Chan! I was bug eyed and awed! You want to see Mantas, Sharks, Octopus? Come to Belize!
At sunset we tied up and crashed hard. No energy for partying, or even socializing. It had been a hard run ( we thought ) and we needed our wits for the run to Dangriga in the morning for fuel. Dangriga is a Garifuna village on the Main Land, and the weather was worsening again. A new Norther was brewing and this time it would not be at our backs! We had to cross the Main Channel in the morning and a storm was not what we needed. We awoke to bad weather, said our good-byes to our wonderful host and his wife, and set out to open sea.
I know that I’m an idiot... and Tims intelligence has come under question at times also, but What Were We Thinking! As soon as we left the shelter of the Tobacco Range we got the hell beat out of us! Huge ground swell at an unlivable angle to our course. Thirty knot cross winds. Spray that required draining the bilge every thirty minutes! And rain that will chew up your face and spit it out! Our boat seemed like a stick in a stream that we used to race down a creek for fun! Refueling the inboard tank was almost suicidal! I hung on for dear life and Tim swung us into the wind, so I would only have to battle the swell and rain. He had to blow the tank to start the siphon and we nearly capsized when he lost the stick. Visibility was about fifty feet, I loved it! This is what I came for! The trick was surviving to tell about it. We kept our course, thanks to the good old GPS, and at last sighted Dangriga
The entrance to Dangriga is up Stann Creek. Due to the heavy rains the channel was gone. We were out of fuel, and had to make the entrance, or else! Neither one of us had seen the route up the Delta in good weather, much less what we had now. We gave it the good old college try but got stuck again! We backed out but the logs and debris made another attempt impossible. We sighted the old shipping pier, just up the coast. It was decided to tie up there and figure out what to do next. Easier said than done. The pier was designed for much larger ships. As we approached we saw that it was completely dilapidated and falling apart. Guessing which cross beam was sound to tie off on was Russian Roulette. The wind was picking up again, making our decision easy. The one I could reach! I had to use the ground swell as a launching pad to reach the level of the pier and, with a few choice words... I jumped.
I was barefoot at this time, as I felt the need to judge the slickness with my own feet. I landed cleanly some how ( funny what dying if you miss will do ) but knew I had to tie us off quickly before the boat pulled me off the pier. I wrapped the anchor line around the nearest beam as fast as possible, got my fingers out of the way just in time... and Wham! We were safe for the moment. Welcome to Dangriga!
Now what? We couldn’t leave due to lack of fuel. We couldn’t stay, because the friggin wind changed almost immediately from the west! It was banging the boat hard upon the concrete pilings of the pier! We lost the port side rail before we could do anything! The boat was literally coming apart! A kid came up to investigate what these crazy Gringos were doing. We asked if he knew the channel through the delta. He said no, but that he knew someone who did. “ Go get them” Tim yelled over the tempest. We did our best to protect the boat while we waited. The pier was too high to get any leverage without being crushed. The boat was shredding before our very eyes. The kid came back with three other kids. “ We know the way “ they said. “ Jump aboard, and one of you stay here to throw me the line as we cast off. I can’t untie.. and board the boat in these seas! ” I screamed. I know this sounds stupid but that’s what it was! I didn’t write the script, I lived it! We pushed off hard, and made for the delta once again.
The kids knew no more than we did. There was no channel! A Mayan boy with L.S.D. tattooed on his neck was guiding Tim in when we ran aground but good! Tim raised the engine and we all got out and pushed. With the rain, the wind, and the townspeople laughing, we finally pushed our way into the river. We motored up the river to the city mooring dock and tied up. We thought the worst was over. Wrong! There is no gas station on the river in Dangriga. That would be way too easy. You have to shoulder your tanks, hail a taxi, and go to the station by land. I stayed with the boat as Tim went for fuel. The locals found me to be quite entertaining. Blond gringos, totally trashed, are unusual. Fortunately Belizians are understanding and friendly people. They could have robbed me, or worse, but that never came up. They knew I had money, but did not hassle me. I felt a pang of guilt at the poverty around them. Americans should have more respect for what they have than they show! Tim returned with the fuel and we said our good-byes to everyone. We managed to return through the delta a little better than on our entrance, and set back out into the coming storm.
We were still fifty nautical miles from San Pedro. The Norther was still increasing. Our course now took us directly into the storm. I was beginning to think the local captains were right. But thinking has never been one of my strong points, and god knows Tim wouldn’t quit, so, after refueling, we set course back to Belize City. Talk about testosterone charged dummies, no argument here! Why did we come on this trip anyway? To stay dry? To stay safe?....
As soon as we passed Blunt Point it hit again with a fury. We fought our way up the coast against the wind, and with the sea heaving on the starboard, high chop from the North, and rain killing us constantly. I looked at Tim and yelled over the wind “ We sure know how to party brother!” It was scary. We couldn’t eat, as preparing food was impossible in the angry sea. So we did what sailors have done for hundreds of years....passed a bottle of rum! We needed the courage! Then the engine died again! Water in the gas again! It had seeped into our largest storage tank through a small crack at the handle. I don’t know what we’d have done had not Mother Nature intervened. The storm suddenly abated. NO WIND! We stared at each other in disbelief. I know this is hard to believe but we had at least thirty minutes of calm seas to effect repairs. We cleaned the plugs, changed the gas, and flushed the system before the next one hit. Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good! Karma? I don’t know. Dumb luck has always been one of our trade marks, in fact I was counting on it. But this was ridiculous!
We rode it out all the way to Belize city. A very long day. If you are prone to sea sickness it’s a good thing you weren’t with us. We made landfall at Moho Caye after refueling at the Fiesta once again. We accidentally intruded on some friends having a dinner party that night and they insisted we attend. Two drowned rats wanting nothing but a bed. I insulted the guest of honor by pointing out that the Brits never tip ( Hey he sounded Australian to me! ). If you don’t like the truth...change it! Luckily we had made arrangements for a room at the local hotel. Moho Caye is very upper class don’t you know. We met an armed guard on our way back to the boat from their house for our gear. He was quite nice, once he understood that we had friends there. We crashed in luxury again. A bed of nails would have been comfortable that night! We awoke and prepared for the last leg home. San ( We love you ) Pedro!
When we cast off that morning we were surprised to learn that the G.P.S was malfunctioning. No way Jose! I broke out the charts as we were underway and produced the navigational compass I’d procured from Walmart. Tim had suggested it at the last minute before I flew down from Dallas. Good thinking Tim! We made Port ‘O Stuck the old fashioned way. The sea was rough but not much rain. Easy compared to yesterday! We made land fall in San Pedro that afternoon, much to the chagrin of the doubting Thomases, and kissed the sand in our own way. It had been much better than either of us could have dreamed but we were glad to be home. I had learned so much on this journey. Belize has many great guided tours. You need not be an extremist, like some idiots I know, to have an excellent adventure there. I say again... Come to Belize! Come to Belize!

Dave Burnette