Gilligan's Islands
We reached Goff's Caye by 7:00 a.m. Tuesday and anchored in firm sand in about 6 feet of water close to shore. We took care of our morning tasks and called the TMM base for suggestions on how to fix the propane. In full daylight and with the incentive of coffee, Rick was able to track down the loose and corroding connections, make a fix, and get a pot brewing in no time.
Goff's is a tiny little islet with a dozen palm trees sitting right on the reef. Goff's has a thatched palapa and a dock, and we are the only ones here. Unfortunately, Goff's has suffered from "civilization," even since we visited in 1999. A favorite of daytrippers looking for a beach fix, including the increasing number of cruise ships calling in Belize City, Goff's is now littered with their messes. Here and there I find used diapers tossed on the beach, styrofoam containers, plastic cups, and other waste. When we were here a few years ago, our guide scrupulously cleared away all evidence of our having been there; present visitors apparently can't be bothered. While the boys snorkel, I think about cleaning up some of the mess, but there is nowhere for me to put it (and frankly, I would need gloves before I'd be willing to touch some of this stuff). So I had to content myself with exploring the good parts of the island while keeping and eye out for my snorkelers.
We swam back to the boat and were underway by 10:00 a.m., somewhat saddened and angered by what had become of this little slice of paradise. Our next destination is Rendezvous Cay, a small islet further south along the reef, and hopefully one which has seen less of the ravages of un-accountable tourism. We started under sail, and soon a fisherman in a dugout canoe (perhaps one of our "pirates"?) was paddling furiously towards, shouting "Lobster!" We slow our progress and let him tie up to our swim steps, where he shows us his take of live, wriggling bugs lobster season ends on Saturday. I ask for 4 of them, and with the knife and bucket I supply him, he deftly separates the tails from the bodies and separates me from $20 U.S.
As high noon nears, we need to make some progress to Rendezvous, so we motor sail. Jeff and I are stationed on the bow, watching for the many coral heads marked on the chart here. My stomach is in knots; with less than ideal light conditions, it is difficult to distinguish the colors of the water, and I'm anxious that we'll make a mistake. When we finally make it to Rendezvous, anchoring is equally challenging, as we need to sneak in between two patch reefs and fight a bit of surge in relatively deep water. My work is not quite done until I serve up a beans-and-weenies lunch, but after that I get my reward.
An escapist's fantasy, Rendezvous Caye, is a small, palmy sand spit on Belize's Barrier Reef which invites napping and splashing about in the shallows. The snorkeling isn't bad, either.
My reward, of course, is a perfect little tropical islet. There is another catamaran anchored snugly close to shore, Arc en Ciel, but otherwise Rendezvous bears little evidence of the incursion of humanity. No docks, not palapas, and best of all no trash. It's tempting to stretch out under the palms and snooze away the afternoon in the breeze, as Jeff does, but instead Rick and I take a
