After an hour of motoring and dodging a few more coral patches, we reach Bluefield Range, a collection of mangrove islands with a large, protected anchorage smack in the middle of them. There is room for dozens of boats inside, but we are the fourth to arrive here today; the other three are clearly cruising boats, equipped as they are with solar panels, wind generators, and other accouterments which distinguish them from charterers. In the southwest corner of the anchorage is a small collection of blue-painted shacks on stilts comprising a fishing camp/resort. Manatees supposedly frequent this area as well. We anchor easily in about 12 feet of water.
As Rick dives the anchor, a lens pops out of his snorkel mask, so I hand my new mask over to him. A game of "Find the Lens" becomes an un-needed excuse to jump in the water, which we don't climb out of until happy hour, having gotten pruny and bathed. As we dig into chips, salsa and cocktails, a fishing boat anchors nearby, and soon another canoer come alongside. I'm hoping to buy some conch meat, but he offers me a conch pearl instead; pretty, but it won't make much of a chowder! For dinner, we grill three of the lobster tails and serve them with melted butter (gilding the lily, but it's vacation), potatoes and salad. Chocolate chip cookies are dessert. It doesn't get much better.
As the sun sets over Bluefield Range, lobsters which were hiding among the corals in the morning, and wriggling in a fisherman's canoe in the afternoon, are about the meet their maker.
We have a breezy night at anchor and it looks like there might be rain. So we close the hatches and safely stow the line-drying towels and swimsuits. This turns out to be a good call, as we had rain but didn't have to deal with it.
Wednesday is just Another Sunny Day in Paradise. By now, I can recite the weather forecast verbatim, for it changes not at all. "Partly cloudy with scattered showers. Winds east to northeast, 10-20 knots." I'm getting that sunbaked, salt-cured look and feel that a week of sailing in the tropics delivers, despite lavish applications of sunscreen. An impressive collection of no-see-um and mosquito bites dots my skin. I'll be driven to take a Benadryl to quell the itch before the day is out. But I'm not complaining: the weather, the sailing, and the company have been great so far.
Today will be a slow day. We had thought about going as far south as Tobacco Caye, but we'd either need an extra day to make up for the one we effectively lost (we asked TMM, but the boat is booked), or we'd need to spend very long sailing days and that kind of "stress" is not what we came here. So, with nowhere in particular to go, we will be turning towards the north to re-trace our route back to Ambergris Caye.
After a very slow morning at anchor, we head out of the southern end of Bluefield Range towards the next cay south, Alligator Cay, to see if there might be interesting snorkeling. The chart warns of numerous coral heads, but the morning's cloud cover makes it impossible to safely make our way close enough to anchor. So we turn tail and head towards the cay immediately north of Bluefield Range, which is Middle Long Cay.
We have a great sail, beam-reaching all the way. We arrive to this sandy-shored island around 11:00 a.m. and try to anchor. Alas, the deeper waters have a sandy bottom, but it is studded with soft corals (sea fans); the purely sandy bottom closer to shore is way too shallow. Strike two. Our third attempt will be for a sure thing: Water Cay. Another rollicking sail under bright sunlight, with 20 knots of wind. The sea is a bit choppier than it's been in recent days, but we blame that on the cruise ships we spy off Belize City.
We anchor just off the beach at Water Caye, but this time, far enough away to avoid hungry bugs.
Finally, we choose a spot off the southern tip of Water Cay, off the beach but hopefully far enough away from the shore to avoid no-see-ums. We set two hooks in just over 4 feet in a muddy/sandy bottom. While swimming around off the boat, we observe excursion boats from the cruise ships going to and from Goff's Caye. At one point, we sighted what looked to be a tiki hut floating on pontoons coming our way (it was the Amber Tiki, which serves cruise ship passengers). Having exhausted our ice supply, I joked that we should see if they had any to sell; moments later, Rick dinks over to the Amber Tiki, then returns with a trash bagful of ice which they gave us for free, since they are friendly with people at TMM. Icy boat drinks guaranteed for the rest of the week!
After a lunch of pepperoni pasta salad, the afternoon is spent alternately reading, sunning and snoozing. We range between the tramp, the hulls, cabin top, or cockpit, depending on our sun exposure preference. I'm beginning to feel like a lamb shank or osso bucco, as described in a cookbook article: cooked under the sun, low and slow, with all of my sinews having melted. Later, what looks to be a Moorings charter boat anchors behind us, so we avoid the nekkid saltwater baths today, out of respect for our neighbors. Sundowners tonight feature Lime Squash, then Seabreeze Punch, the supplies of which I've now exhausted. Dinner is lobster and corn chowder. After dark, we watch the two giant cruise ships, illuminated like Christmas trees, pass out of English Channel into the open sea, thankful that we were virtually alone in this breezy anchorage tonight and not on one of these behemoths with 1500 "friends" on our way to Cozumel.
