A Beach Laid Bare

Have to say right away I knew I was going to like Tulum. The main part of the town follows the highway with an adjacent collector road, lined with bars, restaurants, hotels, etc. It gets fairly noisy around rush hour, but essentially it is a nice setting to sit and relax and people watch. The town itself runs both north and south of the main road, with the beach being 3.5 km to the south. While most people think of Tulum as the site of the historic Mayan ruins, and it is that, the town itself is quite quaint and does not have the same touristy feel that Playa del Carmen has. The vendors are right in front of you, but not as pushy as you see elsewhere.

Arriving by bus from Chetumal late afternoon, it was an easy walk from the station to Hotel Latino, with my room ready and waiting for me paid in full on Paypal. The hotel, which has good ranking on Trip Advisor, is a small two story boutique hotel one street south of the main drag. It is a quiet area, or quiet for a Latin American town anyway, clean and basic with a large bathtub pool. Great deal for $50 a night. I will give it a good review on trip advisor.

As I hadn't eaten yet, the first job was finding a nice Mexican meal. After scouting several blocks on both sides of the street, I settled on El Capitans. Excellent choice, the food was good, and though  they didn't have Sol, Model Especial did the trick. The Chicken Burrito was huge and tasty and filled me for the rest of the day. Had no plans for tomorrow, and decided to go with the flow as this was only a three night stop over.

Monday morning I was up early, and awoke with surety that the beach was the order of the day. Took a quick walk to the Mot Mot cafe, which caught my eye yesterday, and ended up with a delicious breakfast of pancakes and syrup. The place was full, and I was taking my time reading a book on scuba deaths and how to prevent them, when I was joined by a couple of Spanish speaking ladies looking for a place to sit. It took them a full 30 seconds to determine that I had no capability in Spanish ( was quite proud of that), so now I am shooting for 45 seconds in the next discussion. Luz is an Argentinian living in Switzerland and Janez a Mexican from a town about an hour away. They met a year ago on an English course in Britain. They laughed when I said that Janez was the A student right? Had a nice conversation with them. That Janez is one smart cookie. Her eyes were bright, intelligent and she picked up on everything no matter how subtle. She reminded me of some of the young engineers from back at the office. Now Luz I had some fun with. Told her I knew alot about her home country as I saw Evita twice, and watched all the coverage on the Falkland  Islands. Neither was a topic she was fond of. By coincidence I ran into them back at El Capitans at supper and we ate together again.

 The cafe is owned by the Mot Mot Divers next door. After a quick stop there I signed up for a cenote dive the next day (see previous blog), then bought a ticket on the bus for the beach. Walking on to a beach in the Caribbean always invokes a strong emotional response from me, and I was almost in tears. Almost. What a stunning view. I had to sit down and have a couple of Sol just to regain my composure. This section of beach runs for about a kilometer, and if you go to the far north of the beach, you can see the palace of Tulum. So that's what I did.

I located the beach bar and grabbed another Sol, put down my beach towel and stared out at the Caribbean Sea, which is amazingly soothing to the soul. About ten minutes later when I started looking around, it hit me. I had sat down in the topless section of the beach, and they were popping out everywhere. Call it good luck, radar or just being my oblivious self, but there I was trapped not knowing where to look without being a creep, so I stared back at the sea. But alas, I was not to be let off the hook that easy. Inga DD sitting next to me decided to strike up a conversation. Now in golf, when you come up to a water hole, you visualize the green and don't see the water, thereby taking the water out of play. Most excellent strategy for a topless beach, so I put my sunglasses on, closed my eyes and had a ten minute conversation with Inga cool as a cucumber. Very fine day all around.

A Cenote to Tulum

That was truly an amazing experience. Diving a cenote in Tulum. On waking this morning I was debating cancelling out of the dive, after watching videos on youtube the night before showed challenges that I was definitely not trained for. The book I am reading gave a couple of examples of people who had died cave diving, and I had no intention of being one of them. So bright and early I went back to the dive shop and had a great discussion as to the differences between a cave and cavern diving,  and  decided to go on. Essentially in a cavern dive you are never out of sight of natutral light, which makes a quick ascent possible even though you have a rock formation overhead.

 The Mot Mot Dive Shop has a bakery cafe attached, and we rallyed there for breakfast, then sized up right after. After signing the waivers, we were off in the jungle bus for a twenty minute drive to the park, which is located on land owned by 160 Myan families. Have to admit, looked pretty sharp in the wetsuit they gave me.

The cenote is a series of underground caverns and caves created by settlement of limestone. The one for our Dive is called Cenote Dos Ojos. The water in it is crystal clear and contains a wide variety of fish, though not much else from a wildlife perspective. The real draw is the crystal clear water, visibility and the wonderful array of stalagtites and stalagmites and general rock formations.The caverns are relatively shallow in dive speak, ranging from 15 to 30 ft, and you follow a set path up and down, left and right in a circuitous route from start to back again. The top picture above is the entrance to Dos ojos Cenote. There is a yellow guide rope that runs the full length of the routes, to make it easy to follow and find an escape in the event of an emergency.

Being mildly claustrophobic, I was concerned over maintaing my cool when in cramped spots, but to my surprise, I never worried a moment from when I entered the water until we exited from the first dive. Dive one was about fourty five minutes at depths as deep as 20 ft, but for the most was shallower than that. This was the most open route, and had the most light as we stayed close to exit points all the way around. I was happy to see the entrance again as my throat was parched from the compressed air. We quickly exited, set up the tank for the next dive, and headed back to the van for a twenty minute lunch of banannas, cookies and spring water.

Oh, I forgot to mention. We lined up in a row on the dive, with the dive master up front, then in order of least experience to most. While the couple that dived with me, visiting here from Wales, had many more years diving experience than me, Ahmed asked me to go last as I just finished my training and they hadn´t dived for a year. If truth be known, I think he asked me as the husband was a little jittery, and I seemed calm and was the only one who put his own gear together.

The second dive was to the batcave, which it is called for just the reason you would think. It is a nesting spot for bats. The dive is shorter, deeper amd more undulating, but we would surface mid dive and take a look. This route was also darker, and had more cramped spots to wiggle through, but in fact with the bat cave in the middle, we were closer to an exit if needed. Again all went perfrctly, I did better with my buoyancy control and came out with 1200 psi left in the tank. My air management is getting better.

I have a DVD with some movies and a number of pictures to remind me of the dive. The pics here are me, and hopefully the video I am loading makes it on. If you see it below, it did. If not, Ill do it from a faster connection another time.

San Pedro - Part Deux

It doesn't take long to find where you are and aren't comfortable. The moment I stepped off of the plane in San Pedro, It felt like I was coming home.  I knew the streets, which restaurants I preferred, where the best coffee was and where I could go to get any information I needed. Even the Conch Shell  Inn gave me that I'm home feeling.

All in all, the next two days were nothing much different than the last visit, other than gathering info on living costs, rental availability and so on. People still remembered who I was, and many even wondered about how my trip down south went. But there were a couple of things that stood out.

The first was while walking down Front Street with my guitar strapped to my back, I was stopped and asked if I would be interested in doing a gig at the opening of a new restaurant in San Pedro. Ah, what the hell. Unfortunately, the venue did not have a sound system, and I convinced the owner that the tiny travel guitar I had could not be heard and it would look a little Mickey mouse for a new spot. So I ended up playing on the beach for a number of parties, and all went well. A couple of the tunes brought a couple  of tears. What I did realize is that I do not have a burning desire to play my music for people I do not have a personal connection with. It is nice, getting a warm reception, but strangely enough it felt like I was telling stories to people that had no business hearing them.

The second was another chance encounter with another bar owner. I had headed over to Wet Willies, which is a large palapaya bar at the end of a dock a few hundred feet from my hotel. They have one of the best swimming locations in the area, and it was a hot day. One of the owners came over to say hello and thank me for patronizing the bar, and we hit it off well. Her and her husband were from Baltimore, and similar ages to me, and we spent half an hour reminiscing about the Baltimore Oriole teams from the early seventies. Brooks and Frank Robinson, Boog Powell, Jim Palmer, Paul Blair and so on....They were my team, and Brooks was one of my sports heros. The owners had purchased the place in January, after having sold their graite usiness the previous year. They were happy with the move, and we're most interested in what I was up too. Dianne took my contact information and her and hubby will keep their ears to the ground and contact me, as opportunities are known.

All in all quite a productive two days. Sunday morning I got up at he crack of dawn, hit the San Pedro to Chetumal water taxi, and picked up the bus to Tulum. Of course on he way I met new people including Russ from Oakland, who was a real estate developer until the market tanked, and now restores vintage race cars.

Back to Ambregis Caye With Tail Between My Legs

 

Knowing I was going to be slightly embarrassed going back through Belize customs, I got up early, went to immigration to get my exit stamp, went over to get my water taxi ticket, then went for a walk around town. My Guatemalan facilitator from yesterday looked at me like I had two heads, as in, who the hell would come to spend one night in Puerto Barrios at a fleabag motel, only to turn right around and go back. Never the less, with head held high I walked with knapsack on back right up to the boat to take my place.

The word overloaded would be am understatement. It was jammed packed with people and goods, to what I am guessing is 200% of the recommended allowable weight. And we were heading out on the Bay of Honduras for an hour drive. I had visions of being in an article in the newspaper the next day, about the tragic sinking of a water taxi bound for Belize. The boat was riding low, and had so littl room to move the second mate had to stand on the edge the entire hour. The good news was the sea was relatively calm, AND WE MADE IT SAFELY.

Getting back through customs was a lot easier than I had imagined, though he did say " back already". I figured with the eight hour turnaround I would be searched for drugs, cause it even seemed suspicious to me. Just tell the truth, and it shall set you free " I lost my debit card". I got right off the boat and went to Tropic Air and made a reservation to get from Punta Gorda to Ambergris Caye, as there was no day long bus ride in the cards for me.





The flight was a series of puddle jumps of ten to fifteen minutes from Punta Gorda to Placentia to Dangriga to Belize International to Belize Municipal to Caye Caulker to San Pedro. It was a new, clean, comfortable plane that seated twelve and the flight was thoroughly enjoyable. It was my first time on a puddle jumper and I would do it again in a second.

I got back to San Pedro and went right over to my old haunt the Conch Shell Inn. Two nights here then on to Tulum and Playa del Carmen.

One Night in Barrios and the Tough Guy Tumbles

I admit it. I wussed out on a journey. Not because I was afraid for my safety, not because I was afraid of tackling the unknown, but I was afraid of money, or rather fear of running out of cash on hand and being in a place that didn't take credit cards. All the result of a dumb move on my part at the very beginning of a well laid plan. Here is the sad story, with many many mundane details, that may be boring on their own but all a key part of how one mistake can render the best laid plans to waste.

It was a dark and stormy night. Well, it wasn't it was a beautiful clear hot and sunny day. After waffling on what to do for the week before meeting Mary Lou, Larry and Karen back in Mexico I was going to go to a) Costa Rica and do a quick tourist thing 2) San Diego for Thanksgiving with Jennifer and stop in New Orleans on the way back, or 3) Honduras by water and bus. I chose door number three.

To do it is a relatively straight forward exercise (yeah right):

• Take the 10:00 am bus from Placentia to Punta Gorda.   1.5 hours 
• Take the water taxi from PG to Puerto Barios, Guatamela. 1 hr 
• Take a taxi to Honduras border.  1.5 hrs 
• Take bus from Frontenac to Oma Honduras. 1.5 hrs
• Stay overnight
• Take bus to Puerto Cortez Honduras.  1.5 hrs
• Transfer to another bus and take it to San Pedro Sula.   1.5 hrs
• Transfer and take bus to La Cieba
• Stay overnight if you don't make 4:30 ferry
• Take 10:30 am ferry next day to Utila, a divers paradise

Easy right. Well, maybe not easy, but straight forward. 

What could possibly go wrong. Well. Dumb ass Mitch. 

I am traveling with a preloaded Visa debit card with all my cash saved for the trip, a credit card and a drivers license. I have a hidden zipper pocket in my travel shorts, and a crook proof fanny pack, which I keep my passport, cards and cash in, not ever all together in case something happens to one. So on Wednesday morning, for some unknown reason I broke the not together rule,  put all of them together in the zipper pocket, and headed to the Internet cafe to print out the directions and load a few pics on to the blog. As I was paying, I remembered I needed a copy of my passport, and pulled it out of my pocket, at which point the cards went flying. I quickly found the credit card and my license, but could not find the debit card. We looked everywhere. Back and forth between my hotel room and the cafe , nada, though I am sure it fell through a vent right at the desk. So I called the bank to put a hold on it, and we agreed that I would call back that night and tell them where I ended up reserving in Honduras. They would forward the card in two business days. 

So no harm no foul. I had a few hundred US cash, that I could use for buses, taxis and incidentals, and would use my credit card for everything else. On went the knapsack, and I hurried to the water taxi that takes you to the Punta Gorda bus. Because of all the looking, I missed it by two minutes, and the next was two hours away. So, I could not make Oma before dark, and only a fool would travel in Honduras at night. That meant that I would need to be on the 9:30 am water taxi to Guatemala to have a chance to make La Cieba by dark the next day.  In fact the bus got me to Punta Gorda a little early, so I was able to make the late ferry and get to Puerto Barrios that night. This would allow an early start on the ground game and make LaCieba in plenty of time. Great..but....The water taxi did not take credit card ($30), the exit fee from Belize was another $17, and when I landed in Puerto Barrios, the hotel did not take CC , another $23. My reserves were taking a kicking, though it was still enough to get me there. I would leave early in the morning by Taxi van.

Here is where my language inadequacies come into play . It might surprise you to know that everyone speaks Spanish in Guatemala, and not many speak English. My 40 word vocabulary after eight years of study, apparently weren't the right fourty words, as no one had a friggin clue what I was asking. Finally, they dialed 1-800-gringoneedshelp and five minutes later the owner of a nearby Internet  cafe who  spoke English, quite well I might add,  came to the rescue. I needed two things: Internet access, no problem; international phone call so I could call the bank and give the forwarding address for the replacement card, again no problem money couldn't solve. By the way, I was in fact called a gringo, by one person, which I thought was funny. 

So first I got on to the Internet, finalized my reservations in Utila, then using the fax machine phone, called TD, the bank I have been with since I was 18, as agreed in my call earlier in the morning. Three weeks in Mexico and Belize, and it took a good old Canadian bank to make me say f%#k for the first time on the trip. Guess they aren't allowed to put notes on a file, because the first guy says, after waiting for ten minutes to answer my call,  " I suggest you go to your branch and get the replacement card" to which I answered, politely I might add, " might be a little difficult because as I said I Am in Guatemala. "Oh, yes I can do that",  and he put me on hold. Five minutes later the line cut and I went back into que again. F. That word translates well into Spanish as heads were raised. Ten minutes later " hello, how can I help you". " first off, by not putting me on hold and cutting me off like the last guy" then back into my speel again. " we'll Mr Smith, I just need to get sign off from my manager as it is going to an international destination". After promising not to cut me off I was put on hold for managerial signoff, and when she came back ten minutes later it was " just wanted to let you know it is busy here tonight and I still haven't talked to my manager, but I haven't cut you off". That was enough, and I quote " never mind, I can't hold any longer this is costing me a fortune,  just send the fu#%&ng replacement to my home and my wife will bring it to me in Mexico". An hour on the Internet in Guatemala was $2, the useless phone call I could have done that morning was $20.

Back at the hotel it dawned on me that I would be an idiot to continue the trip as planned. One more unforeseen cash outlay and I would be stranded in a country where half the businesses don't take the only method of payment I have till Dec. This morning, I got up, walked to Immigration signed out and caught the first water taxi back to Belize.

Garifuna Settlement Day in Placentia

Garifuna settlement day did not turn out quite as  expected, but it was a dandy anyway. One of the reasons I came south was to be in Punta Gorda for the drum circle on the 19th. Come to find out the day before, that the drum festival was actually held the Sat before. But all was not lost as the official holiday was still the 19th and I was able to watch the festivities, and reenactment of the landings, right here in Placentia.

TThe Garifuna (pronounced Ga-RIF-una), or Black Caribs, are a unique cultural and ethnic group. They first appeared in Belize over 300 years ago, when escaped and shipwrecked slaves mixed with the native Caribs who had given them refuge on Saint Vincent Island. The Garifuna adopted the Carib language but kept their African musical and religious traditions, against the demands of the island's colonial masters. In 1795 the Garifuna people rebelled against the British; the Crown punished them for their insolence by deporting them to the island of Roatán, off Honduras. In the years that followed, the Garifuna slowly established villages on islands and along the coasts of southern Belize, Guatemala, and northern Honduras (OK. This part was cut and paste from the web).

The festivities started out with a Garifuna woman giving an impassioned speech about the culture, the importance to remember, and details of how they settled along the coast of Central America. Next there was the recreation of a typical landing, where a boat load of people would stay off shore while a scout in a canoe came to shore to ask permission to land. This was repeated over and over until they were finally granted access, and landed to start settlements.

The final part of the festivities included a drum circle, with many of the people doing the "punta" to the drums. It is hard to describe exactly, but imagine being in a bit of a crouch with your feet stomping up and down, no more than a few inches, going as fast as a hummingbirds wings, all the while your upper body remains still with your hands out in various poses. And they move side to side slowly, like a hovercraft. That is the punta.

This is a picture of the reenactment. It was a bit hokey, but worthwhile never the less. Now the drum circle, that was amazing. Unfortunately the camera ran out of power just as it started.

The scout.

Pancake Talk

This morning was a bit of a late start, but as agreed the night before at the Pickled Parrot, I would go for pancakes at Bill's place at the end of the beach walk. Lots of construction in the area, though it was a neat location close to the water. At the suggestion of the waitress, I ordered their Tropical Pancakes. As seen in the picture above it was a big plate that couldn't be finished. They were fluffy and light, and topped with bananas, pineapple and coconut.

The highlight of the morning was the talk with the owner Bill. He is a restaurateur from the Midwest who moved here six months ago, after buying some property and opening a breakfast place. But more on him later.

The first discussion was with and about a life time Placentia resident, a fisherman, who looks and acts    like a stereotypical man of the sea. During hurricane Iris in 2001, he decided to weather the storm in his family home, a small wooden frame structure no more the 50 feet from the shore. He locked himself in one of the rooms, refusing to evacuate as ordered by the government. The time it took for the storm to pass was a terrifying one, and he thought his number had been called. The wind screamed, he heard all kinds of thrashing and crashing, and the storm surge had the house waist deep in water. When things finally calmed, he opened the door and the rest of the house was gone, as was most of the adjacent buildings. Utter devastation, but he had survived. Wow I said, "I guess you picked the right room".  He laughed and said he "hadn't thought of it that way before, but yes, I guess I did."

Now Bill, the owner. Very interesting story. As a young man of twenty he was in the honor guard for President Johnson, before getting called to duty in Vietnam. He landed and shortly there after his father died, allowing a return to bury him, before going back to Nam. About six months in he hit a trip wire while out on patrol, and became the victim of a booby trap grenade. That took him out of the  country, and he returned home. He worked as a military courier in Washington for some time, walking around in his words " in a suit and carrying a gun".  Exactly two years to the day after he buried his father, his mother died. Over the next decades he had: numerous surgeries to repair wounds, two homes burn down and a restaurant burn down. What a great attitude on life " if it doesn't kill me, I can survive anything life throws at me".

This trip is filled with talks to interesting people, with interesting stories and most importantly, great outlook on the world. 

The Road to Placentia

This post is a little out of order, but thought it was worth documenting the trip from Ambergris Caye to Placentia. I woke up on Friday 16th Nov and still didn't have a clue where I was going,  just knew that the direction was south, and that I had to be in Punta Gorda for the drum circle on Garifuna day on the 19 th! As the hotel was right at the end of the dock for the water taxi, it was easy to get packed and over there in the fifteen minutes before the ferry left. The boat holds about thirty people, and was full by the time we stopped in Caye Caulker on the way. It was a mixture of young and old, Belizians, expats and travellers ( I no longer consider myself a tourist, but a traveller). The trip was $12 US and arrived in Belize City in about an hour. The sea on the way was the bright turquoise that charms all who see it.

Belize City is a fairly unappealing one, at least from my perspective. Never a doubt that it was a throughway only. Because it is low season, the express buses to Placentia are not yet running and the regular bus takes about 7 hours for a place that is about sixty miles as the crow flies. Wasn't looking forward to that. By chance, there was a young couple from California going to Hopkins, and a taxi driver agreed to drop us all off for $50 a head. Jumped at that. After a quick stop for cheezes and beer at the gas station, off we went.

The highlight of the trip is the section down the Hummingbird Highway. Lined with palm trees, bannana plantations, orange groves and mahogany farms. The road kill are howler monkeys instead of skunks and raccoons. Our cabbie was a Garifuna who suggested the best celebrations would be in Danagria, about half way between Hopkins, where we dropped the California couple, and Placentia where I was headed. 

As we headed into Placentia, I noticed the large amount of improvements in the area from when Matu Lou and I were here two years ago. The road has been paved, many more condos developed, and the introduction of 26 speed bumps on the 16 km section of road leading into town, And these are the mother of all speed bumps, and the number and size make our car hating Toronto City Council look like pokers. The road in also crosses the end of the runway for the loal airport, with the cars required to  give right of way to the planes taking off. 

Lots of hotel choices, but ended up going to the same place we stayed at two years ago, One World, which is a six unit motel, basic but immaculate, and has all the comforts including cable TV, kitchenette, hammock, laundry facilities, fridge, umbrella, etc. a steal of a deal at $49. 

Alone in Shark Waters

OK. Technically the title is true. I was alone, there are sharks in the water and it was a bit spooky, but I was  however, never in danger. The training in my certification course, and the experiences of seven dive in the previous week prepared  me for what was to come. But first the background.

This was day three in Placentia. I had woke relatively early and headed out for the usual coffee, before deciding to see what was going on at the docks. Got there around 9 am and noticed they were loading a boat with tanks. Yes there was a spot for me, and they were leaving at 9:30. So some scrambling was in order. A quick run back to the hotel room, a quick stop at corner store for water and biscuts, quick selection of tank, regulator, fins and mask, and off we went right on time.

Dive partners this time were brothers from Calgary, Justin and Jordan. Justin was a forest fire fighter for the Alberta government so he works seasonally, then travels in warmer climates for the winter months. He will be hopping around Central America until April when he returns home. Younger brother Jordan works in instrumentation in the oil patch, and was set to return in a few days. Both were very polite pleasant young men and we had a great time telling stories on the way out. The fourth diver Pete was traveling on the other boat with his wife and kids, who would be snorkeling while he was diving.

Our destination was the Silk Cayes, which are three tiny islands about an hour boat ride out from the coast.  When I say tiny, I mean tiny, with the one we were based out of maybe a hundred feet long by forty feet wide. It had nothing but a few palm trees, a couple of barbeques and two washrooms. And it was a spectacular setting. Snorkeling was in and around the island under the watchful eye of the boat captain. The four divers were to be  taken by boat about a mile and a half further out to sea, for our first dive at the Silk Cayes Wall.


The top of the wall is about fifty feet down, relatively shallow, but then takes a sheer drop to 2,400 feet. Because of the depth, the boat does not anchor, but follows the bubbles so it will be close when the divers surface. This is really important in choppy water where the swells make it more difficult to see the divers on the surface. After the usual briefing and safety check, we descended to the bottom and gathered with the dive master before heading out on our planned 45 minute dive. By this time I am feeling really confident after seven previous dives, and everything was going as planned. The visibility was not as good as Ambergris Caye, but was still great for seeing wildlife. In Scuba, there are two points that you let the dive master know about air supply, 1000 pounds as a notice that supply was getting low, and 500 pounds when it is time to start to surface. While all of my dives are non decompression dives, it is good practice to do a safety stop for five minutes at 15 m on ascent. OK. So that is the setup.

Now being a big guy, I breath more air than most, and that was the case here. I was down to 500 pounds and the others were still over a thousand. I gave the signal that I was going up, with the intention of following them from above at 15 m as I did my safety stop, again standard practice. This would have worked fine on my previous dives, but I lost sight of them quickly due to poor visibility. So, there I was on my own in open water, not having a clue where I would surface in relation to the boat, and not being able to see anyone or anything, it was shall I say, a bit spooky. Did a bit of quick reasoning and decided that the boat would continue to follow their bubbles pulling it further away from me and diverting his attention away from me. Since it was a no decompression dive I made the decision to make a controlled ascent and hit the surface with 200 pounds to go. The boat was about 200 feet away, no big deal, and he spotted me within a minute, and quickly came to pick me up. These guys are all professionals, have seen it all, and to them it was business as usual. I will say, I was happy that I didn't panic, and was able to think things through very quickly.

As this was a two tank dive, and we needed some down time between dives, we headed back to the Caye for an excellent lunch of Belizian chicken, salad and pineapple. They actually had bread and peanut butter, and since it was three weeks since having that, it made a great desert. The group bummed around for an hour, some sunning (some better than others), some swimming and others resting against one of the palm trees.

Dive two was at Silk Caye Canyon to a depth of 60 feet, and lasted around forty minutes. Things were nice but not as good as previous dives. We did see piccolo fish, groupers, some rays and a sea turtle, and I challenge a lion fish to duke it out, but it wouldn't bite. This fish is universally hated by Belizians as it is non native to the area ( result of an aquarium dump), is poisonous and prolific, and is taking over the reef. The are hunted by spear fish without the need for a fishing license, and the locals are trying to teach the groupers and sharks that they can eat them. This time I had worked hard to conserve my air, and managed to surface with the restof them, again with 200 pounds of air left.

At the end of the dive we jumped in with the snorkelers to play with the rays and the sharks. I managed to get a hold of the tail of one of the nurse sharks and came face to face with the largest ray I have ever seen. It had to have a wing span of ten feet, and a length of fifteen. It looked like a space craft, but moved effortlessly.

All in all, it was a great day that brought us back to port around 3:30. Two good dives, some intrigue on the seas, and lots of spectacular scenery.

The Chicken Drop

As I am traveling, it is becoming increasingly more obvious that it does not take a whole lot to keep the average human being amused. I present as evidence, the chicken drop. This is a tradition apparently started in New Orleans some while back, where a game board with a grid of 100 numbers is penned in, and a chicken or rooster is shaken up lightly and placed on the center of the ring, where it will stay until it drops a bomb. Whatever number it drops on, that is the winning ticket.

One of the places that has an international reputation for this is Wahoos lounge in San Pedro on Ambergris Caye. Every Thursday night, without exception, starting at 6 ish, anywhere from six to eight rounds of the drop happens. This means each of the four birds has to come up with two good craps within a couple of hours.

So here are the rules:

1) 100 tickets are sold for $1 BZ by the bar owners for each drop, with the winner taking in the entire pot.

2) For each round, some one is selected as the handler (inevitably some cute twenty something girl), who is then delivered a bird by "chicken security". The bird is then moved around in a few circles to stir things up, and just prior to being released the hens arse is raised and the handler has to blow on its butt.

3) The crowd then cheers on the bird, with all of the usual wise cracks and puns, until the bird drops.

4) The winner has to clean up the mess or does not get to claim the prize. Needless to say, everyone cleans up.

5) The crowd is given about 10 mins between rounds to have time to order another drink

Now there is one potential catch to this, and that is the split shitter (see pic to left). If that happens then there are two winners, or possibly four if it hits right on a grid line. 

I spent a great deal of time talking to the bars owners, who incidentally are very nice people, and they told me with the T shirt sales and the liquor sold, they could run  the bar by only opening on chicken drop night. The night I was there there was approximately a hundred people watching. They told me the previous week that there was nearly four hundred, and they sold the entire bar out of beer. And this is the slow season.

As noted, although it was new to me, the night is known internationally. There was an article in the Wall Street Journal a few weeks back, which quoted the owners. There are four or so movie/TV shows shot there each year. Apparently last year Steve O of Jackass fame was there, and licked up the dropping from one of the games. Anyway, it was fun to watch and certainly is a gold mine for the bar. This has been running out of the bar location for 25 tears.

Last Thursday was my last night on Ambergris Caye, before making my way south to Placentia.

This Carribean Morning

Caribbean Morning
by M. Smith

The turins are hovering along the beach
The sun is peaking up on
The east horizon
The clouds are turning from grey to gold
As the morning light finds its way 
Upon them
There's a gentle breeze
And the water is warm
It's a beautiful start
To a beautiful day
On this  Caribbean morning

 

The fishermen are tethering their nets
Getting things ready for the morning catch
There's no hurry
Clouds in the distance are calling for rain
But they'll be making the run out just the same
There's no worry
Finding their way
Through a gap in the reef
Same as every day
Since they've been teens
Another Caribbean morning
     


      Lay back, relax good things will come
      You are  on island time
      It all will keep, no need to rush
      Tomorrow will be fine 

 

The little cantina at the end of the dock
Is starting to fill and already rockin
Out reggae
It's the same old crowd in the same old chairs
With all the cocoanut  telegraph news to be shared
Sipping cafe
The tourists all walking round
Wearing no shoes 
With hardly a care 
And little more to do 
On this Caribbean morning

     



       Lay back, relax good things will come
      You are  on island time
      It all will keep, no need to rush
      Tomorrow  will  be fine
      On this Caribbean morning
      This Caribbean morning

The Bar Scene

Spent the  best part of the past week exploring opportunities here in San Pedro for purchase of a bar on the beach. It has been a very informative week, and I have a much better appreciation of what is involved here in being successful in that area? Talked for quite some time with the owners of five different establishments, some of whom have just purchased the place, and others that have them for sale. Also spent a great deal of time walking the town and beach, stopping into various places, seeing what was working, and getting the Vibe. After that, I am much better positioned moving forward.  So what has been learned:

• Without a doubt, I would have put an offer on the bar that I came to see, Ambergis Brewing Company. It was a perfect size, good revenue, great location and opportunities for growth. It also had a two bedroom apt attached with the lease, so it included a place to live. Unfortunately, it sold before getting here.
• The successful bars had one thing in common. Hands on owners. All but one were a husband and wife team, with the husband being the main front person, personable, spending the nights small talking the customers, creating that personal connection.  The wives kept the details together. One red flag is that they were all big boys, been there, done that, not good for longevity.
• There are four things that have to gel. Location...type of venue...personality of owner and... strong local employee who has been made to feel like a key person. All four have to be the right mix, and what might work in one place might be the wrong fit for another. This is the difference between being a mediocre spot, and a success.
• Most places here do well in peak season, Nov-Apr, few do in off season.
• Your bar needs something it is known for to create that night or two a week that everyone goes to: the chicken drop, Tuesday wings, Punta night.....

So where am I to this point. Well, I could live here easily, and am interested in doing so. The culture is a perfect match for my personality, the people are friendly and open, and accept people into their groups quickly. I have looked at several opportunities while here,  but to this point, there is only one of interest, and The numbers have not been presented yet. So off I go Friday to southern Belize and Honduras, and will likely return here the second week of Dec. We shall see.

Holy McAvee

Lots of intrigue on the island. You may already be following this. The founder of McAvee Virus was the center of attention here in San Pedro. A couple of nights ago, a US contractor who had moved to Belize a year ago, was found dead from a bullet wound to the back of his head. He had for sometime been involved with the founder of McAvee regarding barking dogs. Apparently the contractor was shot the day after McAvees dogs had been poisoned, so, all fingers have been pointed you know where. When the police went to question McAvee, he  buried himself in the sand so they couldn't find him. Now personally, I would rather be taken into custody than have all those sand fleas going at me, but then, that's just me. Lots of CNN, ABC reporter types along the beach, in particular near the toll bridge ( bailey bridge) near the mansion. McAvee remains on the lam.

Fully Certifiable

Done. After this mornings dive, I am a fully certified PADI diver.

Todays dive was to Mexico Rocks, just off the reef about a twenty minute boat ride from San Pedro. Scuba Steve was still busy with boat repairs, so I dove with a friend of his who is also an instructor. Initially  the dive was disappointing as we were only 15-20 feet, and after 60 in the previous dives, ahhh...not quite the same. However, the wildlife made up for it. As the area is also used for snorkeling, there are plenty of "fed" fish. This also brings plenty of stingrays and the odd shark. There was also a small school of barracudas.

Two highlights on this dive, and they came at the same time. I held the a head of a dead fish in my hand, and there were dozens of brightly colored fish trying to get a bite, resulting in a feeding frenzy of so many, that I couldn't even see my diving buddy through them. This in turn brought the interest of a five foot long moray eel, who swam up to see what was going on. It came within a couple of feet of me, and it was really neat to see. Lime green, homely as hell but all round beautiful to see. Funny, though I have a respect for the danger the various sea creatures hold, I hold absolutely no fear of anything I have encountered. We shall see if that changes when swimming with the big boys in shark ray alley.

Dont yet know what I am doing tomorrow. Thinking about moving into the City for a couple of days, and diving, but I guess I should keep moving. Might detour to Antigua, Guatemala for a couple of days.

Pumpkin Patch South

 

Today was supposed to be the big certification final dive, but alas, the weather did not cooperate. Big storm clouds on the horizon, and no one was going out. In the end it proved to be the right decision as we got pelted with rain and wind gusts. But all was not lost. Yesterday I wrote the first fourty of fifty questions on the test, but couldn't finish it as I hadn't read the section on dive tables, and Scuba Steve had taken the day off. So I did what we do for everything we don't know how to do, and went to YouTube. Learned what I needed and got all the last ten correct. Ended up with 98%, which I could live with. So tomorrow morning dive and I am done.

So, again I had the better part of a day to kill. Now this is where the pumpkin patch comes in, though I must digress a few times before I get to the story. For all that know me well, as much as I live in the Big Smoke, I am a boy born and raised, and will die a boy from Fredericton ( to be more exact A Boy  From Nashwaaksis, which I wrote a song about). However, just to get under the boys skin I refer to it as The Pumpkin Patch. If you know what six degrees of separation is, well The Pumpkin Patch has two degrees of separation. In other words, when you  walk into a room of people, if you don't know an individual, you do know someone there that knows that person. Well so it is here.

Ambergis Caye oceanside is both unique and similar to other coastal areas. The roughly 3 mile stretch I have been walking twice a day for a week reminds me at times, depending on what point I am walking, of:  Old Orchard Beach, the malecon in any Latin American coastal town, the Beaches in Toronto or Muskoka. Pretty neat all round. Along this stretch is any number of crafts people, restaurants, recreational companies and all round hucksters. So along this route, every time one passes these people you get invited to see what they have to offer. Most people just ignore them or say no thanks, but I decided to make a conscious effort to be polite, say hello and shake hands whenever I can. So now I know many along the route.

Now, with that set up, here is how my day went, just to show how surreal the situation is (long paragraph warning). I leave The Hutz after finishing up with the Scuba stuff for the day, and start walking. "hey big man, want a lift in this  morning" , thanks man, but I am getting my exercise. Met Ari my real estate agent, former lawyer from New York who met her husband on the island and stayed, for coffee and to sign a non disclosure agreement. While we are there the former owner of the ABC Brewing company, which was one of the bars I came to look at but it was already sold, came in and I was introduced ( I would have definitely made an offer but was a week late). Hit the beach walking and " hey Big man, girl or weed this morning". "how about a 45 year old", "yeah I can find that", "no thanks, just joking". Then a few steps up the beach "hey Mitch, got that necklace for you", so I made the first purchase of the trip and picked up a necklace made with white and black coral, with a sharks tooth. " thanks man, you really helped me out". Five minutes up the Beach " hey Mitch, come join us for a banana daquri. It came from a young couple that were on a dive with me. So I stopped for a drink and they suggested I walk further across the bridge and go see Coco Loco ( the bar that I had identified first, which sold two months ago). A little further up the beach "hey Mitch, found some old Mayan pieces that I could make into a necklace for you". " Sorry Marlin, can't afford to but that at this point, don't want to blow all my cash at the start of my trip""no prob Mitch, on the way back". Arrived at Coco Loco and there was Arron and Liz playing cribbage with Martin the bartender at the pool bar. After a drink as I'm heading out, Martin asks if I played crib and invites me to a crib tourney tomorrow at 4. Steve, the owner of the bar introduces himself and we chat for a few minutes. He is from Toronto and he and his wife wanted to slow down, so they bought a bar in Belize, and did not have a background in it. The other bar that they were considering an offer on, you guessed it, the ABC Brewing Company. Steve said, make sure you come to cribbage tomorrow. So back home I headed, and about half way there, I hear " hey Mitch, how are you, remember me it's Pam, we were on the dive together". She introduced me to her friend Barb, and Chip " oh I know Chip, I pass him on the beach everyday". Chip had just made the girls fresh ceviche ( raw fish, cilantro, onions, etc). " try some with us" I did and it was tasty? I did pass on the joint. " so then on to Crazy Canucks to watch a little football" while there, there were a few individuals that kinda stood out, not sure why. Had my quick beer and left at the end of the game to stop at Average Joes, and pick the owners brain. Talked to Joe and he informs me that he helped Steve from Coco Locos get his cash system all set up. Then while we are having the discussion, in walks the individuals from Crazy Canucks and Joe says hey Chris,  meet Mitch. Chris from Vancouver  introduces me to Sheri, his sister, alright she was the one who stood out, and Eric from Houston. Talked to Eric for half an hour and he has been traveling Central America for two years, and he have me lots of tips about how to do the next three weeks. Then he says "Mitch, make sure you come to Crazy Canucks tomorrow for 7 as they have a great band in" " see you there". Exhausted, I walked the rest of the way back and here I am.

I expect tomorrow will be more of the same. Not a whole lot of alone time going on here.

hh

PADI Oreally

Thought I had better get a blog update in before my buddy Wayne complains again. Apparently you are supposed to update it daily, but the internet is suspect here and the opportunity isn't always available. Much easier to do Facebook updates, and I am a regular chatter box there. Speaking of the internet, it is pathetic enough to affect a decision to move here. Not on it's own but it is a big negative. I was told last night by Ari, my real estate agent, that there is a big initiative in tripling the available bandwidth, something that the monopoly that owns the telephone and internet here, is finally cluing into lost potential.


Meeting a ton of people here, in bars, offices and even walking on the beach. Discovering that I am not that hard to get along with after all.  Everybody has a story to tell me: knows someone I have  talked to the previous day; has met James Ward another good ole Fredericton boy; offers tips on running a business in San Pedro; give background on a particular bar, and on and on. Scuba Steve, my instructor, even pointed out a mobster  to me that  the US and Russian governments are trying to extradite (CNN news story), when he picked me up in his golf course as I was walking into town this morning.Very friendly and open people, probably a little too open for some, but I find it amusing.

So the past few days have been busy. Looking at opportunities, and until yesterday there was nothing even remotely interesting, and working my way through becoming a PADI certified open water diver.  Time is flying by and I am enjoying it immensely.

In the past three days I have done three check out dives, which were really open water dives, written my test and prepared for my final dives tomorrow. I have seen enormous rays, tons of brightly covered fish, and swan with sharks. That was one of the coolest things that I have ever done, watching a line of four sharks following us,  with one of the sharks nudging me on my mask. I selected my instructor for two reasons: he was $150 cheaper than the fancy places, and I would get one on one instruction all the way thorough. In effect, my dive buddy for the five days will have been a certified Master PADI instructor.

Last night I was invited to Happy Hour with Ari and Bob, meeting a pile of people,  including the San Pedro s most famous blogger and the owners of the Wahoo bar. Spent an hour chatting and getting to know them. They hold an event that is internationally known, called the Chicken Drop. They shove a bean up a chickens butt, then put it on a game board and people bet which one it will crap out the bean on. They get 400+ people on their bar and beach and sell a load of beer and tee shirts.

After all that I picked up a Cohiba, and walked 45 mins back too the room along the beach, stopping every so often to fill yup my cup at the various bars along the way. I was told to stick to the road , but Steve says no one is going to bother a "big humble bear like you man, you are OK". I chuckled about that on the way. Baloo it is.

Though the three days have been eventful, it has been much the same, though I am not complaining. Beautiful weather, beautiful water and beautiful view as on the beach.Three more days here then I have to figure out what is next.