Lobsterfest gets cancelled!

06.24.10

Cute baby howler monkey still fresh in our minds we packed up our things and headed to the bus terminal. We said our farewell to Orange Walk and boarded the “chicken bus,” so called because it is cheap, crowded, and people bring chickens on it, towards Belize City. Many had commented on the “dangers” of Belize city, but it felt no more so than many cities we have traveled. In any case we were only passing through to get to the boat terminal (with a quick pit stop for some BBQ chicken!)

Soon we were on a boat crammed with people and bags heading to two different islands off the Belize coast; San Pedro and Caye Caulker. A pleasant ride headed us right for the Caye where we unloaded, found a nice, cheap hostel, Loraine’s, with our own bungalow on stilts and fan for $18 per night, and set our bags down.

Already the island mood sets in; without a worry in the world we wander through town. Picturesque is a start to describing this place, but it is far more than that. Local Creole Rastafarai mingle with American ex-patriots, Hispanics, tourists, and the cutest, friendliest street dogs anywhere. Everyone rides around on bikes or golf carts through the sandy “streets.”

At the other end of the island is the only true beach area, where a hurricane in the 60′s split the island in two. The beach, complete with underwater stools and benches (not intentional), and a Rastafarian bar blasting reggae, is aptly named “the split.” We hung out with a couple beers watching all the different people mingle and relax under the sun.

We booked a snorkel tour for tomorrow through Ragamuffin tours run by an Australian lady and her Belizian husband, then wandered around town for a place to eat. After a lobster burger and our first time trying grilled conch, we headed to bed. The night was filled with exceedingly long, loud booms of thunder, preceded by massive flashes of lightning .

06.25.10

Pastries for breakfast, then loaded onto a sailboat with the name Ragga Lady with two dreadlocked Rastas and a bunch of American travelers. The day was not ideal for snorkeling, with gray clouds in the sky, and a drizzle of rain, but the forecast is worse for the next two days, and with our great luck, the sun will come out for us. Well it did later, and it was gorgeous.

Our destination Hol Chan is a protected reef with a multitude of very unique fishies, but first we would hop in the water to swim with two very friendly manatees!!! Our guide Kevin dove to the bottom and got one manatee to do spirals around him, pretty awesome. The snorkeling in the area was terrific, some truly stunning fish; lionfish, puffers, and a tiny dark blue one that looked like it was spotted with galaxies. Why we don’t have an underwater camera by now? Good question.

Next stop was Shark alley, where within seconds of anchoring, a multitude of harmless nurse sharks, large yellowtails, and sting rays, swam right up to the boat looking for grub. We hopped right in for a closer look. Kevin dove down and grabbed under the front of a massive stingray to pull it up for everyone to touch; it seemed perfectly content with this.

The third spot, Hol Chan, was terrific. Right when we got into the water Kevin had a massive Morey Eel putting its mouth up to his hands as it swam through his fingers. We always thought they were terribly dangerous… Eagle rays, eels, brain coral, and tons of colorful fish swam under us. The great barrier reef in Australia may have been more diverse, but some very unique species excited us here as well.

The sailing back was complete with hand made ceviche (raw shrimp “cooked” only using lime juice), fish sandwiches, fresh fruit, and 2 gallons of particularly strong rum punch. Complete with two full body sunburns, our $80 (for both) journey was worth every penny.

I may have not mentioned it yet, but starting today is an annual event on the islands called Lobsterfest, where tourists and locals flood to the islands to celebrate the beginning of lobster season by eating tons of lobster. We dreamed of fresh grilled lobster as we basted our burns with Aloe Vera, when as luck should have it, the rain started pouring down.

The poor girls in the Lobsterfest beauty pageant got dumped on by a short burst of a storm, after which we headed to Joe Habanero’s for some pina coladas and a lobster po’ boy. There we met a massive group of British military just back from six months serving in Afghanistan. One member of the group not snorting habanero sauce in his nose chatted with us about some truly extraordinary aspects of the war; how the Afghans hire Russian and E. European military specialists to fight with them, how sophisticated the military is with the little equipment they have, and some harrowing near death stories.

After that, sleep to more rain.

06.26.10

Today is the first real day of Lobsterfest. Our goals; to sleep in then explore the island while eating delicious lobsters prepared at the fest. We started to have a bad feeling when, as we walked to town in very strong wind, people were nailing big wooden planks across their windows. We came across a guy from Pensylvania from the tour yesterday who terrified us with news of an incoming tropical storm, and the government issuing an emergency disaster warning… That was mingled with the local rastas saying ‘don’ be runnin, jes a bit a’ rain.”

Lobsterfest had officially been canceled, and the chance of not being able to leave the island tomorrow made us buy tickets to take the last boat to mainland at 3pm. We relaxed to a lobster themed breakfast while watching developments of the massive incoming storm on the news. Then packed our bags at the bungalow and headed back into town to use internet awhile in a bar where everyone was watching the US vs. Ghana futbol game.

Black clouds on the horizen we boarded our boat and were soon unloading under a torrent of rain in Belize City. The bus station was packed with locals carrying all their belongings to head inland to escape. Complete with bright blinking lights atop the busses, scratchy radio broadcasts on the storm, and crowds of people with frightened energy, it felt like escaping a battlefield.

Flooding rivers to both sides of the road, our bus brought us deeper inland. The trip was mostly uneventful as we chatted with our Canadian friends. Aside from a few scary flooded road crossings, we made it safe and sound to the higher grounds of San Ignacio within two hours. There we found a great hostel, grabbed some crappy Chinese food, and went to bed.

In the end, the tropical storm was, as the Rastas preditcted “jes a bit o’ rain.”