Thursday will take us a few steps back towards civilization. We have an easy morning, and today there are no no-see-ums to escape because the wind has kept up all night. We have another amazing sailing day as we beam-reach in excess of 8 knots back to St. George's Cay; we sailed all the way except for the last stretch into the anchorage, which was dead upwind. With optimal light, we're able to identify the sandy/silty spots to anchor in, setting 2 hooks, settling in by lunchtime.
Rick has arranged a dive with Fred Good at St. George's Lodge. Until 2:15, we loll about and then dink over in time for Rick's dive, where we meet divemaster and host Fred, who welcomes us to the cay and to his amazing lodge. While Rick motored off with the rest of the divers, Jeff and I lounged under a spreading mango (I think) tree on orange-painted adirondack chairs, then moved to the orange adirondack chairs on the palapa-topped dock.
Despite its diminutive size and remoteness, St. George's Caye is one of the most historic of Belize's cayes, and offers a number of civilized pleasures -- the comfortable atmosphere and warm welcome (as well as superlative diving) of St. George's Lodge, as well as the incredible stories told by Neil and Sally at the Unicorn Gift Shop, housed in the oldest standing building on the caye (and featured on the $5 BZ bill). It would be easy to while away an afternoon on the Lodge's comfy orange chairs, or to picture yourself in one of it's overwater cabanas. As for the Unicorn Gift Shop, you don't go there for shopping as much as you go for the company.
We moved into the Lodge, which is a rich, dark wood-finished space with a central bar and rooms on the sides. The Lodge also has over-water cabanas. We lounged in comfy wood adirondack chairs (these not orange) and made the acquaintance of Debbie from Philly, whose husband Larry is diving. They were staying here for a week, after a week in Punta Gorda.
St. George's Caye has the distinction of being the first of Belize's cayes to have been inhabited (1650), and now serves as a vacation retreat for the wealthy families of Belize, who are only in residence part-time. With this illustrious past, Jeff and I finally rouse ourselves enough to take a walk. We strolled a few minutes south until we reach a cleared area which looked barren and desert-like (we later learned it had been cleared to be subdivided and sold as lots with both east and west water frontage). Then we turned back north and re-trace our steps from our earlier visit, waving to the British military men at their compound, and then stopping in the Unicorn Gift Shop.
The gift shop is part of the oldest surviving home on the island, which graces the back of the Belizean $5 bill. Sally and Neil, an American couple who met through the personal ads, have been living here for 15 years! Before meeting Neil, Sally had no intention of ever leaving her home or children in Indianapolis; yet persistent Neil, who had fallen in love with Belize during his travels for a major American corporation, had her living in the wilds of Belize within a year after they met. They gave us a tour of their amazing residence, the walls, floors, doors, shelving and much furniture in which is hand-crafted and custom-made of a variety of dense, heavy and beautiful tropical hardwoods. The floor in each room is designed in a different parquet pattern utilizing these multi-colored woods. The home is bullet-proof and virtually self-sufficient, except for the groceries they have delivered to them periodically. Now that Sally and Neil and housebound due to their various illnesses, they have created a little world for themselves on this tiny caye. They welcome visitors like us for the company we provide, and we are richer for having spent a little time with them.
Knowing that Rick's dive boat was soon returning, Jeff and I had to take our leave. We bumped into Bob and Carol from Bedazzle as we walked back, and returned to the Lodge just as the dive boat returned. Waiting for Rick to settle his tab with Fred, we settled back into the Lodge and chatted with the guests coming and going. Soon Fred and Fran joined the gathering, as did Bob and Carol. As sailors are wont, we were soon swapping boat stories, all of us noting that the sailing world is small indeed.
Smilin' Wide's crew of Rick, Jeff and Eva (a.k.a. Jack, Jack and Ethel) enjoy the warm welcome and pleasant company at St. George's Lodge. Before returning to the boat, we savor the sunset from the rooftop deck of Fred and Fran's neighboring home.
.Like Sally and Neil, Fred's story is equally compelling, and Fran showed us photos to back it up. Fran told us how Fred came to build the Lodge. Fred had acquired the property in the early 70s, when it was nothing more than a barren sand spit (Hurricane Hattie had taken great chunks of land away). With a dredging permit in hand, Fred dredged and used the spoil to build up the land. While looking for financing to build a house, a banker told him financing was unavailable, but it could be had if he were willing to build a "first-class" hotel. Fred didn't think the area was ready for such a hotel until has asked what constituted "first-class" - it turns out that first-class is merely a lodging with rooms having en suite baths. That Fred could do, and he did it by sheer will and faith.
Over the years, Fred and Fran starting building their own house next door. It has grown in fits and starts, each phase seemingly begetting the next. Fran invited us to have a look around, especially the rooftop patio, which was the highest point on the island. At her direction, we simply let ourselves in, took in the spectacular woodwork and soaring spaces of their house-in-progress, and then climbed to the roof to get unparalleled views of the cay and surrounding waters. What a treat!
Darkness was approaching, so we reluctantly took our leave of this warm, hospitable place and eased into our evening routine of bathing, sundowners and dinner. My provisioning had been nearly perfect, as we were found ourselves at the end of our food supply as we approached the end of our cruise. Overnight, we were glad to have set two anchors, as the wind was really kicking up; we also had a major rain shower at about 3:00 a.m. it wouldn't be a vacation in the tropics without it!
Friday takes us even closer to "civilization." After a very leisurely morning at anchor, we sail off for Cay Caulker by 9:30 a.m., running ahead of the first real chance of daytime rain we've seen all week. The wind was kicking up, in excess of the 10-20 knots predicted, and the seas were choppy. We dropped the sails to get through Porto Stuck, but notice that Bedazzle, behind us, did not. After passing, we put the sails back up and screamed all the way to Cay Caulker. Once there, a couple of stinging showers pelted us as we anchored, but that was the last of the rain we saw the rest of the week.
Rather than eat aboard, we went ashore to lunch at the Sandbox, a sand-floored bar/restaurant facing the Caribbean Sea. Having eaten rather wholesome, homemade food all week, we all craved some bad stuff, so we ordered nachos, conch fritters (really big, delicious ones), and assorted sandwiches with fries. After filling up on bad, greasy, deep-fried food, we walked the dusty streets of town, which were filled with backpackers, daytrippers and college students on a lark. Cay Caulker is a hippie dippy kind of town, where tie-dye and incense (and not a few whiffs of discretely smoked marijuana) set the scene.
The feel of Cay Caulker, with its sandy streets and predominantly young visitors is best summed up by the name of the bar where Rick and Jeff find themselves: The Lazy Lizard.
After running into Bob and Carol of Bedazzle again, we stopped at the Lazy Lizard for drinks. The Lazy Lizard is a ramshackle open-air affair located at the "Split" (or the "Cut"), a narrow channel - recently made wider by Hurricane Keith - splitting the cay in two. The young people seem to congregate in this general area, sunning and preening on the bulkheads.
I'd managed to lose three ankle bracelets on this trip while snorkeling, so it was time to get another. A Rasta was making and selling them from a table in front of the Lazy Lizard, so I tried a few on for size before settling on one I liked that fit me. When I didn't have change for my jeweler, I offered to leave the bracelet behind while I got some change from Rick, but the Rastaman said "Don't be like dat, mon; I trust you." Soon thereafter, the transaction was completed. When I arrived at the bar, I'd found that Rick and Jeff had ordered a round of "Lizard Juice," the house specialty. These neon-green drinks would have tasted better had they caught a few geckos and whirled them in a blender that stuff was nasty, suitable only for looking at!
By now, we're so relaxed that we're nearly immobile. It was all we could do to muster up the energy to return to the boat and loll around. After watching the sun set, we returned to town it was, after all, Valentine's Day, and a meal out was what we were doing to mark the occasion. The hostess at highly-recommended Habaneros actually asked us if we had reservations (!), which of course we didn't. Instead, we ended up at Rasta Pasta on the beach. Rasta Pasta is the same
restaurant we enjoyed on Ambergris Caye in 1999, but had since moved to Placencia before ending up on Cay Caulker. We soon found ourselves imbibing the famous drink of Belize's cays: the Panty Ripper (coconut rum with pineapple juice), and chowing down on conch ceviche, Thai curry, and a giant fish burrito. Back on Smilin' Wide, we ate Carr's ginger lemon crèmes, this crew's traditional last night dessert on charter vacations.
Little did we know that our adventure was far from over...
