Belize, Day 4

Day 4 - the day of legend. Today, we were to visit the world-famous Blue Hole. Declared by Jacques Cousteau to be one of the ten greatest dive sites in the world, it certainly had a lot of hype to live up to. 

I'd read about the blue hole quite extensively...it's one of those cool phenomenon you get caught up in on Wikipedia. A massive sinkhole, 400 feet deep, in a perfect flawless circle, when viewed from above. It looks so oddly intentional, almost too perfect. Plus, it's deep, too deep to dive to the bottom, and that makes it ever more mysterious. 

The other fascinating thing about it, is that when you go there...they take you quite deep. Too deep, really, to be within prescribed limits. PADI (The world's main diving authority) recommends that you don't dive beyond 60 feet with your open water certification. They'll let you go to 100 with your advanced open water. The blue hole has these sandy ledges periodically on the way to the bottom, beneath big overhangs from which huge stalactites hang down. The nearest of these, is at 135 feet.

Now our divemaster Russell, a beast of a man who must be the single fittest person I've ever seen, ran a tight ship. No pun intended. He immediately laid down the law, made it clear in his island-flavoured English that there would be absolutely no flouting of the rules. Things were to be done his way, and exactly. No messing about. Go down to the sandy ledge below the stalactites, and he would terminate that dive and the rest of your dives for that day. If you couldn't descend to 135 in four minutes, you'd make your way back up. You would complete the five minute safety stop at five metres without question. And if you had a problem, you wouldn't ask your buddy - you would go straight to him. Your buddy was only going to make things worse. He's the professional.

So I felt a bit better, but still rather nervous. A number of people on the boat (Michelle included) had only their Open Water designation. Some had only done one or two dives at most! This was a serious thing we were about to do. So leaving ourselves in Russell's hands, we all got in the water.

When you first hop in - you're on the edge of the hole. There's a totally reachable sandy bottom. So at first it's no big deal. Everyone descends to the sand, and peers over the edge into the abyss. The bottom, as the name implies, is blue. Just blue. It might as well be infinite. Then, you go over the edge.

Everyone more or less descends as a group, but Michelle had trouble with her ears. She couldn't equalize. I hauled on Omar (Russell's assistant, another divemaster) and pointed at Michelle, indicating my ears. He went to assist her. I waited, in limbo. Omar's buddy kept descending, I remained in the middle. Omar kept trying to help Michelle, asking her to ascend slightly and try again. When I asked what was up, he told me he would buddy up with Michelle, and that I should go on. I looked down and saw this:

I figured I'd better hurry after those yellow fins.

I released all the air from my BCD and sank after the diver in front of me, watching the numbers on my watch rise as I fell. 24 metres...26...30...34...38...this was deeper than I'd ever been. Finally, at 41.4 metres...135 feet, the side wall of the Blue Hole opened up, and ushered in a seascape worthy of the moon.

It's dark at 41 metres. The sea starts to work on you in other ways than usual. For one thing, it's quiet. Normally, you can hear the occasional boat go by. Maybe the bubbles of your last breath, or the one before that as they scuttle toward the surface. The pressure of the deep silences all that. You only hear your own breathing inside your own head. Once your bubbles leave your mouth, they're gone - and the silence is deafening.

The pressure gets at you there, with the silence. Then your mask starts to feel tight. It is tight. It's being pushed against your face with three times the pressure you feel on the surface. Three atmospheres. Your air supply is being pushed on too. Each breath you take, you have to pull a little harder to get it down the hose. Each time, you hope it works the way it's supposed to.

Colours are gone as well. Past 90 feet or so, red doesn't exist. After that, you start to lose orange as well. Everything is dark, gray, and blue. You look down at the sandy ledge beneath you. It doesn't look that far. But you remember the divemaster's warning. Don't go down there, or your diving is over. I looked at my watch...41.4 metres. I looked back at the ledge. Must be 45...47 maybe. 41 is the deepest I've ever been...and this already feels insane. The nitrogen narcosis is working on me a little too. I feel giddy, and light...but maybe that's just because where I am is just so amazing. 

I emerged from the other end of the row of stalactites, and already, it was time to head back up. Your air is compressed in the tank at that depth, along with everything else, but your lungs are the same size, so you tear through your air supply. 21 minutes on a cylinder that'll normally give you 70. I started slowly ascending toward the murky, gray-blue surface. It was a bright sunny day, but looking up, all you see is this:

I followed the group up toward the ledge above the hole, and turned around for one last look. I saw two divers coming towards me up from the gloom. 

Michelle! She'd sorted her ear problem out and Omar had taken her down behind us. I was both relieved, and terrified. Just the two of them! All the way down there. And Michelle, so new to diving! But she was with the guy to be with, and he saw her through the whole way.

I waited for her to rejoin me, and we continued our ascent. I was taking some close up shots of the coral growing on the edge of the sandbar, when Michelle frantically tapped me on the shoulder and pointed like crazy. I turned around, and out of the deep came the sharks.

Real sharks. None of these placid, soft-core nurse sharks. These were reef sharks, and while we were still too big to be on the menu...that didn't stop my heart from doing a little front flip. They came up so fast. I realized so quickly how futile it would be to try and swim away. These guys are made for water. Lightning fast movement is nothing to them. And they were ready to show us.

We crowded together as they circled...their instinct is to get behind you, in the advantageous, predatory position. With all of us in a circle, there was no way to do that, so they concentrated on lunch instead. 

We watched them go full speed in short bursts after fish just meandering by. They'd blast up to a fish, and in one quick bite, swallow them whole. Circling, turning, boosting forward through the water...it was clear they just wanted a quick bite of fish...but they still came awfully close to us. Sometimes within a few feet!

It was wild. I'd never seen sharks like this before. The only real shark I'd ever seen while diving was in the Florida keys, and while it was night time (which was creepy) the shark had been sleeping. Not quite as terror-inspiring as watching a pack of them feed. Once they'd had their fill, they disappeared back into the deep.

The most unsettling thing that I couldn't get out of my head was...those sharks were down there when we were down there. What if I'd seen them at 41 metres? What if I'd seen them when it was just me and a diver I didn't know, huddling together at the rear of the group? Surrounded by the pressure, and the darkness? No way to keep all of them in front of us...I don't know what I would've done. The thought is near paralyzing. So eerie. I'll have my sharks served when I'm with a large group in shallow water, thank you very much. I'll tell my imagination to stay those thoughts. 

We clambered back on the boat and talked excitedly about what we'd seen and done. Everyone was a bit giddy, and not just from being a little narc'd. It was quite an experience...one we were all glad to have had together.

Those with cameras snapped a couple of pics of the blue hole from above water as we trundled on to our next site. I left my camera in my underwater housing, so my above-water shots aren't so hot. 

Our next dive was less dramatic, but still quite exciting! We dove a wall off of half-moon caye.

The landscape was cool, but certainly not the alien world of the blue hole. It was still fantastic though, and another of those eerie but cool reef sharks came to see what we were up to. 

He slowly patrolled the edge of the wall, working his way back and forth along the group, taking every opportunity to get behind us and move in closer. Michelle and I, being at the back of the group (due to my stopping to shoot photos and video of everything) had to keep turning around to discourage him. Every time we turned around, he'd veer off out into the open sea, only to curl back a few moments later and try again. We kept him at a safe distance.

Look closely in this one...you'll see him out there.

There were a number of other great sights on this dive, but the cuts through the coral and the wall's edge were the finest.

We took our second surface interval on half-moon caye, an eco-park way out in the middle of nowhere by the blue hole, where nothing may be left behind or taken away. They're very serious about this, and even made us wash our feet so none of the sand be tracked off the beach and taken away. 

The island had a bird sanctuary on it! We had a nice rice-and-beans based lunch and then had a look at the baby blue-footed boobies. There were hermit crabs crawling all over too...and big iguanas! Iguanas always look so grumpy. They're great lizards though. I like them.

Back in the water, after a fine lunch and seeing some frigate birds cruise overhead, we turned our eyes to the fauna beneath the sea. Almost right away, this guy floated by!

Michelle named him Senor. He looked like he was flying through the water, adjusting his wings like flaps to cruise in for a landing somewhere out of reach of us. Turtles are the coolest.

Russell brought some fish food on this dive, and so the already plentiful fish just swarmed around our group. It was fantastic. They swirled like a tornado, coming close enough to touch you, with us divers at the eye of the storm. A very cool experience. 

There was even more life to be had. Michelle spotted a lionfish, and I found a little shrimp poking his feelers out between some coral!

Lionfish are an invasive species pretty much everywhere in north & central america, but they sure are beautiful to see. No one had a spear or speargun, so we all just waved and floated by.

After a long day of diving three dives, and seeing the island on our downtime, we lugged ourselves off the boat just as the sun was coming down from the sky. We'd been chatting almost all day with some nice folks on the dive boat, and so we made plans to go grab a bite to eat in town. After dropping off our gear back home (and battling a few cockroaches in the bathroom) we headed out to Elvi's diner (you read that right...not Elvis....Elvi's. Dudes name was Elvi.).

They were from the US, and so after extensive chat about the similarities and differences between us, with a brief recess to have the necessary Rob Ford conversation, we slowly meandered home with a few drinks in us, laughing and relaxing at the end of a long and satisfying day. Good dives, good friends, and good food. Makes for good times, when in good company.

Tomorrow, a day at the beach. For now, goodnight!

Belize, Day 03

Ah, Belize! After our first whirlwind of a day, our travels showed no signs of letting up. Things all start early here, so they can be done with before the sun goes down. The elements are real here...the wind, the sea, the heat, they all have a real bearing on life in San Pedro.

We woke up for 6 am to race off to Ramon's dock at 7. The view treated us nicely, since we'd woken up so early to come see it.

Today, was all about Mayan ruins. We were set to go and visit the ruins of Lamanai, meaning "submerged crocodile". Getting there, however exciting...was also to be arduous.

First, we piled into a medium-sized boat, us and maybe 10-12 other folks, and were fed a delicious breakfast. I believe they're called pusudas? Or posadas? I can't remember exactly. But imagine a tortilla shell, with beans, eggs, and onions baked into it. It's just like a little pocket of joy. We were handed our breakfast and told of what was to lie ahead. 

First, a boat across from the caye to the mainland. Then up the Old Belize river. Then, a transfer to a bus. Across land through Ladyville, Sand Hill, and a few other small towns until reaching another river. Then up that river on a second boat until we reached the ruins of Lamanai. It was to be long, and hot. However...there was much to see along the way.

Daniel, our guide, had been taking people to Lamanai for 23 years. When he started, he told us, there was only his boat on the river. Now, there's almost traffic headed up and down the small channels through the mangrove trees...and everyone slows for the poor local fishermen in their tippable canoes. 

The fishermen seem to embrace the traffic. Everyone raised their catch of the day in salute to us, for which they received a brief but cheerful applause. Daniel and our other guides offered each a cold beer, but only two men would oblige him, and they then went on to refuse beer and take Fanta instead.

Partly because of Daniel's experience, and partly because of his passion for the environment, Mayan history, and the natural world, he has unbelievable eyes. Daniel could spot things you could've spent your whole life looking for. The best part was, he had names, details, and an explanation of the history of every single thing we saw. And we saw quite a lot. Sadly... I didn't retain a lot of the proper names for what we saw...however the local colloquial names come quite easy. See below:

The "Jesus Christ" bird (because it walks on water)

Male "Jesus Christ" bird and baby

"Snake Bird" (because of how it moves its head)

Iguana!

"Banana Flower"

Great Blue Heron

Now, this one was the one that blew my mind. Have a look at the image below.

Did you see the bats? The one medium-to-obvious one just above and to the left of the centre of the frame? How about the other five below that one, hanging beneath the log? If you thought that was tricky, how about spotting them from across the river in the back of a boat going 60 kph? Keep in mind now that these bats are about two inches across...and the boat was in full flight. 

I could not believe it. He stopped, and reversed the boat to take us back and over to the log, then he starts trying to explain to us what to look for. I had my telephoto lens trained on this log for two full minutes before I actually saw what he was trying to show us. His powers of observation were just amazing. As if to prove his point, all six fluttered off once we'd gotten a chance to take some pictures.

After our boat stop, bus switchover, and second boat ride, we finally arrived at Lamanai - stopping first to have lunch.

I have to say...I like how Belizians do things food-wise. I love Mexican food, and Belizian food certainly overlaps quite a bit. They share more than just a border. Everything starts with rice and beans, the slaw is cold and tasty, the onions are fried and tossed with diced habanero peppers, It's fantastic. Corn tortillas are a plus as well. The food has been stellar in general...but I digress. 

Before we stepped into the ruins proper, just as we were climbing the stairs from the dock, Daniel stepped off the path, pushed aside a few leaves, and showed us this.

Teeth, and a jawbone. Found buried in ritualistic fashion, just at the side of the path. "You see," he explained, "All of this was underground. It took archaeologists ten years to excavate the ruins we'll see today. There are stills walls and passages buried all over here, and the city spreads out even beneath this path. Here's part of a burial to prove it."

Daniel really made this trip. Without him, the ruins would've stood impressively and boggled our collective minds. But with him, every little thing was rich in history, rich in explanation, and had such profound significance. He really helped us get the most out of our surroundings. Even the trees couldn't escape his expertise!

This was called by the Mayans the "Give and Take" tree. It would give you a nasty cut and poison you with its sharp barbs, but if you were careful, you could take the sap from it, which contained the antidote to the poison.

Lamanai is unique among Mayan sites because it's the only one to be visited by two different european cultures, due to it's longevity. The Spanish first, and then later the English. The English had a fantastic name for this tree. Opting for directness rather than poeticism, they called it the "Bastard Tree".

"How'd you get that cut?" "From that bastard tree!" And a legend was born.

There were some other cool ones as well. One that had a parasitic vine growing on it, that would eventually completely wrap up and dissolve the inner tree...

And one that was just huge. I can't remember what it was called. Sorry. I can't do everything around here.

Then, we turned the corner and this came into view:

The mask temple was the first of several temples we'd see on this hike, and definitely one of the coolest. It has these massive...well, masks! Built right into the side. That they could be preserved so cleanly made my head spin, but what blew me away even more was imagining these being underground, and then being dug up by scientists without being hurt or damaged at all!

It was truly something to behold. Once there were four such masks, but only two stood that day.

This temple was called "The High Temple" as it's one of the highest in the Mayan world, and the highest in Lamanai. Also, because there's some dispute about it's actual name, so this name lets various scientists and historians put their squabbles aside. It's something like 120 feet high, and the craziest thing is, they'll let you climb to the top. No harness or anything, just a rope hanging down the steepest middle staircase. How the Mayans did this everyday I do not know.

Now...I'm not good at heights. I'm very bad at them. But I don't like being bad at them. I hate my fear of heights...even though I believe it to be very sensible. I think it's quite straightforward, being afraid of heights. If you're in a high place, you could fall, and you could die! This, is scary. Thus, being afraid of heights, totally makes sense. 

But so many cool places are so high up! They offer you such beautiful vistas, and this amazing sense of...I don't know...being a conquerer! It's like when you're a kid and you climb to the top of the playground and yell "I'm the king of the castle, and you're a dirty rascal!". There's something very satisfying about being up that high, conquering the summit of something. So I want that. I get it. I'm trying really hard to leave my fear of heights behind. So I climbed The High Temple, in spite of myself. 

Michelle did too, but she has none of the inhibitions I have. We celebrated at the top with a photo.

The view was pretty excellent.

We could see all the way over the high canopy to the river we'd come in on! It was really something. I tried my best to keep a handle on my stomach and my racing brain, and soak it all in. I was sweating profusely. I told myself it was the heat. Getting up the temple was fine...but getting down was another thing altogether.

The top steps are the size steps ought to be. They're about one step high each. Sensible. No problem. The second set, with the rope, are both shallow and high...not to mention worn with two thousand years walking wear & tear. So I grabbed the rope, turned and faced the steps, and tried really hard not to look down. 

I sweated the whole way through it, but after hundreds of endless hours (read: a few minutes) I made it to the bottom. It suddenly seemed much more enjoyable, now that the whole potential fall to my death part was out of the way. What a cool thing! A big Mayan temple. Lovely.

Once we got down, there were monkeys!

They were back up at the height we'd come from, making noises ranging from frog sounds, to jaguar sounds, to bird sounds. Oddly, the monkeys made no sounds that sounded like...well...monkeys.

We meandered down the path after Daniel, where he showed us this:

A Mayan sunstone, perhaps once holding a calendar (you know, the famous Mayan one?) beneath which scientists had found in two jars, a precious metal (which is the precursor to mercury) and liquid mercury. To get mercury to liquid form, it needs to be heated at over 750 degrees celsius...showing not only that Mayans had some knowledge of alchemy, but that they had the facilities to perform it as well. Why it was kept under there, no one knows. "Unsolved mystery number fifty-five." said Daniel. Apparently, liquid mercury has been found on other Mayan sites as well...but no one knows why...

He then walked us through the carving on the surface of a Mayan obelisk...known as a stele. This had to be my favourite part of the whole excursion. How often have you been watching something on the history channel, or reading something in a book, and you're shown some beautiful, complex egyptian hieroglyph...and then told "This shows the snake emperor, presiding over his kingdom of serpent-folk as they garnish their clams with gold filigree." Maybe not that exact scenario...but you know, it's some rich complex explanation for what looks like a series of artfully carved squiggly lines. 

Daniel worked through the Mayan hieroglyphs with us piece by piece, showing the snake headdress on the ruler, there was its eye, there its upper fang, there its lower fang meaning the mouth must be oriented thusly. The way he walked us through it bit by bit...you could really, finally see what he meant. He was patient, and slow, and for once the ancient language started to make a bit of sense. I understood what I was being shown...it was really satisfying.

We came over the hill in the late afternoon to the vista of the ball court, and the jaguar temple. I'm sure you've heard in some history class at some point in your life of the deadly Mayan ball game. If not... well... there's a lot to be said. I'll let Wikipedia do the talking on this one. Finally, we came to the jaguar temple.

Behold - the face of the jaguar! The light makes it a bit tricky to see, but the centre holes are the nostrils, the upper holes the eyes, and the outer ones on the right and left the corners of the mouth. They used to put incense burners in those to make the jaguar breathe smoke. What a terrifying sight that must have been. No wonder the Mayans worshipped so many gods...they built such terror-inspiring effigies...how could you leave one behind?

The jaguar temple concluded our little waltz around Lamanai. It was amazing, calm, inspired, and with Daniel's gentle and informative touch, quite educational. I wouldn't trade it for anything...and it really made the long trip in seem a small price to pay.

On the way back, beers were cracked on the boat, and rum punch handed out in sippy cups. We toasted each other and Daniel and gave ourselves in to the motion of the boat, tearing around corners in the tight tropical riverbed. As we approached the dock to change boats, we finally got to see something we'd all been hoping for.

A crocodile! Apparently sometimes they're all over, but because the rain from the rainy season is still draining out, the river is still quite high. Most crocs don't have somewhere to sunbathe yet, but luckily, we saw this little guy. I say little...he was still probably almost six feet, but when you imagine a crocodile, you always imagine a gigantic one, like the one from Peter Pan! He's small by those standards, I guess. As we inched closer in the boat, he didn't move a muscle, and all the tourists on the boat started moaning "Aww, it's plastic! Just plastic. Daniel, you probably set this up for us, didn't you? Aw just a plastic one. He's not even moving." When suddenly, he leaped up, spun around, and dove into the water with a furious splash. Everyone was a little jolted, and settled back to their seats, and their rum punch.

It was a long but lovely day. The boat cruised back into port on Ambergris Caye just a hair after nightfall, as the sun slipped away beyond the horizon. We were all exhausted after the trip, but also a little bit lit up from the beers and punch, and so Michelle and I cruised into town for a quick bite before bed. What a fantastic experience! I'd never seen any Mesoamerican ruins, Mayan, Incan, or otherwise and I was just overwhelmed with what seemed like this beautiful and vibrant culture, well ahead of it's time. Daniel, who it turned out was part Mayan, couldn't agree more.

Tomorrow, underwater adventures await! The famous blue hole, and other goodies. For now, goodnight!