“If the world had any ends, British Honduras would surely be one of them.”
~ Aldous Huxley 1939 ~
I have to admit, I had never heard of British Honduras (the former name of Belize) until I read about its independence in 1981, while flying from Denver to the small Central American country. I was reading Jaguar: One Man’s Struggle to Establish the World’s First Jaguar Preserve, by the late Alan Rabinowitz, to fully immerse myself into the area that we would soon be exploring.
Even though I had never met Rabinowitz, I had read his riveting book, Chasing the Dragon’s Tail: the Struggle to Save Thailand’s Wild Cats, while conducting research for a series of articles that I was writing about Thailand’s declining tiger population back in the 1990s.
I had hoped that our paths would eventually cross, but sadly learned of his death from leukemia only a few weeks before my departure to Belize. It pained me that another one of the world’s top wildlife conservationist had died too soon. He was 64, when he passed in August of 2018. Although my husband and I would be exploring many areas in Belize, I was really looking forward to paying my respects to Rabinowitz’s first “child” in the wilderness, the Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary and Jaguar Preserve.
We were flying Southwest, on a direct flight from Denver to Belize City. I had barely read 3 chapters when our plane landed a short 3 1/2 hours after departing from Denver. Although Rabinowitz would become one of the world’s leading experts on wild cats, when he first landed in Belize in 1982, he was just at the beginning of his legendary 30 year mission to save the world’s last wild cats. To monitor the jaguars he had placed with radio collars, he often flew in a single engine airplane. On one such flight, he sustained a severe head injury when his plane crashed into the jungle after its wing clipped a quamwood tree. A short trail leads to the plane crash site inside the Cockscomb Sanctuary.
Fortunately, our flight from Belize City to Placencia was much less dramatic. A young man from Barefoot Rentals greeted us at the airport with our rental jeep. It had a few scratches and dents, but the interior was clean and the A/C worked well. With over 100,000 miles, we could only hope that it we wouldn’t have any mechanical issues. At $79 a day, it was exorbitant and it wasn’t even a 4 wheel drive vehicle.
On route to our rental home, we stopped at P Market and had our first meal in Belize. Our tasty burritos from a street vendor in front of the store, cost $2 each.
Our beachfront rental home was located at Maya Beach, about a half hour drive outside of Placencia. It took me 3 days of searching, to find the perfect house and the Oceanside Cabanas (which I found on Homeaway) was even better than I had expected. It cost us $170 a night, a staggering amount compared to our $28 beachfront hut in Raja Ampat. But it was worth it and we did our best to offset the price by eating a lot of $2 burritos and tacos during our 8 days stay in Belize.
The next morning I was up at 5:30 to catch the sunrise. It was a stunning sunrise and there were flocks of pelicans and a number of birds chirping beautifully in the treetops. I sat on our massive wooden deck and read a few chapters of Rabinowitz’s book. It became a wonderful routine to wake at sunrise, read, drink coffee and then venture out for most of the day.
Our house was situated on a thin slice of land in between the Maya mountains and the Caribbean seaside. The road out of Placencia split the sliver of land, but fortunately was never busy. In fact, we never ran into any traffic in Belize, probably because the price of gas is quite expensive at US $5.68 per gallon. Most of the residents traveled on the local buses or rode their bicycles. Surprisingly, unlike Asia, there were few motorcycles.
I really wondered how many of the poorer locals could survive paying such high costs for groceries and fuel when Belize’s minimum wage was only BZ$3.30 an hour (US$1.60). According to the Borgen Project, a study in 2009 showed that more than 41% of the population lived at or below the poverty line. For the indigenous Mayan population, the poverty rate was 68%.
By establishing the world’s first Jaguar Reserve in Cockscomb, where a Mayan community existed, Rabinowitz was seen as another invader of sorts negatively impacting an already struggling community. A few Mayan families were forced to move out of Cockscomb and hunting in the reserve became illegal. The Mayan practice of burning the forest for their plantations was also prohibited.
Rabinowitz always felt conflicted about how his actions were affecting the Mayan Indians, but he knew it was a necessary transition to protect Cockscomb from becoming another wasteland or citrus plantation. He quotes Ernesto Saqui’s description of the events; “The people felt that one man had come and taken everything away from them. The jaguar was being protected while they were being ignored.”
In reality, the Mayan community would greatly benefit from the reserve. Their quality of life improved substantially due to the international attention that Cockscomb received. In less than a decade, the government built a new school, health clinic, installed electricity and a water system and established the successful Maya Center.
We accidentally arrived at the Maya Center on our first day’s outing. I was looking for the Maya King waterfall, which was suppose to be 2.5 kilometers from the Southern Highway roundabout outside of Placencia. At 5 kilometers from the roundabout, Eric asked me if we should turn around. I saw a small village ahead of us and told him to keep driving and a minute later we saw a sign for Cockscomb and the Maya Center.
I hadn’t realized Cockscomb was so close to where we were staying. From Maya Beach it was only a half hour drive to the Maya Center Women’s Gift Shop, where you buy the US $5 sanctuary entrance tickets. However, it takes another half hour to drive the 6 miles down the dirt road to the actual park entrance.
Inside the Maya Center, we chatted with the Mayan ladies and asked if they had ever met Rabinowitz. Apparently, one lady had met him when he visited a few years before he passed. He would bring copies of his book for them to sell, but since his death no one had delivered any more of his books. I thought it was a shame, because his book always sold out at the gift shop and it offered visitors a unique chance to learn more about Cockscomb’s history.
Exploring the sanctuary while reading Jaguar, definitely elevated my experience. I was seeing the park through the eyes of a 30 year old zoologist, described later in his life by Time Magazine as the “Indiana Jones of Wildlife Protection”. While I admired his passion and courage, it saddened me that a few of his beloved jaguars were injured as a direct result of his capture and release cages. Some even died from their injuries. He was quite honest relating his experiences and mistakes.
After our 4.3 kilometers walk along the Tiger Fern trail, we reached the double waterfall where four expat residents of Maya Beach were enjoying a swim. One British lady had lived in Placencia for 44 years! She knew Rabinowitz, but didn’t share anything more on the subject. Her American friend Joe (a 22 year resident), had read his book and really enjoyed his open style of writing. “But I wonder what the ladies felt about him sharing so much,” he added.
We joined them in the cool swimming hole (none of them knew about the upper waterfall located only a short one minute walk away) and continued talking about conservation. I told them that I was impressed that Belize appeared to be on the right track. Joe’s friend Bob, (another long term American expat, who was soaking in the water el natural) grumbled about the numerous shrimp farms destroying the Placencia Lagoon. Joe agreed. He often kayaked in the lagoon and had not seen a manatee in the past 5 years.
“What about the crocodiles?” I asked. Joe replied that they were also rarer these days. I wondered if they were dangerous? “You can’t swim in the lagoon, but the crocs in there won’t attack your kayak.”
Bob lamented that the lagoon waters were black and mucky. He blamed the numerous shrimp farms on the outskirts of Placencia. I wondered if the lagoon had ever been pristine and was shocked when my British friend described the lagoon, (which is visited 30 years ago) as “the dirtiest place on earth.”
Trying to stay on a more positive track, I pointed out that the Cockscomb Reserve and Belize’s Barrier Reef were two prime examples of successful conservation campaigns. Belize’s roughly 200-mile-long reef, the world’s second largest, was removed from UNESCO’s list of endangered world heritage sites in 2018.
Due to immense pressure from local environmental activists who organized a “people’s referendum”, the government announced a ban on offshore drilling in all of its waters. Additionally, all single used plastics will also be banned in the near future.
Silk Caye’s Nurse Sharks, Eagle Rays and Sting Rays
The next day we joined a group of seven divers, headed out to Silk Caye. William, our Belizean captain from Splash Divers had “over a hundred years of experience,” and from all accounts was the best captain in Belize.
Fortunately, the winds had finally died down making our hour boat journey an easy one. Apparently, the winds had been so strong during the past four months that many of the trips to dive sites such as Glover’s Atoll (a 2 hour boat trip) were impossible.
The North Wall dive site was only 1.5 nautical miles from the Silk Caye, a tiny dot of an island with four palm trees and and a white sandy beachfront. Immediately, we saw a large eagle ray, followed by two friendly nurse sharks. The nurse sharks followed us throughout our entire dive, in hopes that we would feed them a lionfish.
This practice of spearing the lionfish and feeding them to the sharks had begun years earlier, when the lionfish, a non-native and invasive species without any natural predators in the Caribbean, was exploding in population and destroying the reef ecosystem.
“We tried to teach the sharks to hunt the lionfish,” our divemaster Keith explained. “But they are lazy and only want the lionfish that we spear for them.”
Our divemasters were not spearing the lionfish, but the nurse sharks were not taking any chances to miss a free meal. They weaved in and out of our dive group, even bumping into us waiting for a possible snack. I loved having them around since it was the first time that I had experienced sharks following us throughout an entire dive.
There were huge lobsters, large green eels and snappers. The coral appeared in good shape and we only spotted a few lionfish.
I nearly missed lunch back on Silk Caye, when a group of friendly dolphins appeared jumping out of the water only an arms length from a few snorkelers. My rice, beans and chicken could wait. I ran into the water, passing our anchored dive boat and caught my mask and snorkel from Keith. The dolphins were so close and yet I couldn’t see any of them underwater. The snorkeler in front of me was awe-struck. He had a once in a lifetime encounter with the dolphins and couldn’t stop grinning in amazement. I was beyond jealous.
I honestly don’t remember our second dive. It was basically what divers refer to as the throw away dive, but to my absolute surprise the bonus snorkel was out of this world. We were quite close to Silk Caye and in an area where the fishermen clean their fish, which attracts a number of nurse sharks and rays. At least 20 nurse sharks were swimming in the vicinity, along with numerous eagle rays and sting rays. I felt like I had just jumped into an aquarium. Keith said that usually you also see turtles, but that afternoon there were no turtles.
Mr. Travel Guy Goes Diving
The following day we joined another group of divers heading to Glover’s Reef. On the pier outside of Splash Dive Center, organizing his equipment was “Mr. Travel Guy.” I chuckled inside remembering a passage I had read from Mark Adams’ book; Turn Right at Machu Picchu.
“Have you ever met Mr. Travel Guy? He’s the fellow who strides through international airports dressed like he’s flying off to hunt wildebeests — shirt with dozens of pockets, drip-dry pants that zip off into shorts, floppy hat with a cord pulled tight under the chin in case a twister blows through the baggage claim area.”
Adams’ hilarious description fit the friendly retired Canadian diver almost exactly. He was wearing the white floppy hat, the drip-dry pants and had taken Mr. Travel Guy to the next level of Mr. Diver Guy. He had the best equipment money could buy and 100 dives with Splash Dive Center in the past 5 years! Sitting next to Mr. Diver Guy was an American who I nicknamed Mr. Everywhere Dive Guy. Yes, he had been to Raja Ampat, the Maldives, and basically everywhere else. He had over 40 dives in Belize and probably owned a small Caribbean island somewhere.
On this trip, we were relieved to learn that our new captain also had over a century of experience. Sadly, we would not be boarding the luxurious dive yacht docked outside of the Splash Dive Center. Supposedly, Splash only used that yacht for large groups of divers and snorkelers. The other excuse was that the yacht was having mechanical issues. I looked forlornly at the other dive boat. The tiny one that the yacht could eat for a snack.
Our new captain, obviously noticing my disappointment remarked; “You no like my boat?” I wanted to say that at $255 per person, they should be taking us out in the yacht. Instead, I told him that his boat was fine and indeed it was seaworthy, just real basic.
After two hours, we arrived at the Isla Marisol Resort on the southwest palm-fringed caye of Glover’s reef. The island was stunning, but I was shocked to learn that the simple wooden huts, described as “cozy beach cabanas” on the resort’s website cost a whopping $875 for 3 nights.
A Close Encounter with a Fish Hook
The visibility around Glover’s reef was fantastic, much better than at Silk Caye, but I was surprised at the lack of fish life. We saw a large sea eagle, huge lobsters, beautiful healthy coral, a gigantic and super curious sea turtle and a spotted eel. I was wondering where all the fish were when suddenly I saw a burst in activity of fish life and a huge hook with a fish as bait on it directly in front of me. I was shocked that the line was bouncing up and down right where we were diving, especially because I was at least 50 feet below the surface.
To avoid getting hooked, I quickly dove deeper and then looked up at the fishing boat on the surface. Although all fishing is banned within the “no take” zone of the marine reserve, restricted fishing is allowed in other areas of the sanctuary.
Our last dive was at Manta Wall. Supposedly there were mantas in the area quite a few years ago, but none have been spotted in recent years.
Would I dive Glover’s reef again? Probably not. I honestly enjoyed Silk Caye much more; it was much closer (45 minute boat ride), cheaper and I have never experienced anything like that amazing bonus snorkel.
Mr. Diver Guy said it best describing his trips to Glover’s Reef; “Sometimes you see everything there and sometimes nothing.”
Two other dives I would recommend skipping is the extremely expensive Blue Hole and the Whale Shark dives. My daughter said the Blue Hole was interesting, but not worth the expense.
It was difficult to get a true picture regarding Belize’s famed whale sharks. By all accounts, it appeared that there were fewer and fewer sightings and if you pay for the pricey whale shark excursion and do not encounter one, there is a chance you will just see water.
Fortunately, I have had three previous whale shark encounters; twice in Thailand (many decades ago) and once in the Maldives. Shockingly, I have had more encounters than Jacques Cousteau who reportedly had only seen the great fish twice in his life!
My experience with a juvenile male whale shark in the Maldives was both magical and concerning. The poor shark was literally mobbed by a huge group of frantic snorkelers from several boats descending upon the shark. I voiced my great concern to our divemaster and he replied that the shark would swim away if it was bothered by all the snorkelers.
He did have a point. I wondered why the whale shark didn’t just leave? In fact, it actually kept swimming closer to me, even though I was trying to give the young shark a wide berth. Finally I just relaxed and the whale shark nearly rubbed up against me. We swam together for a blissful 15 minutes.
FALLING IN LOVE WITH COCKSCOMB
I always thought Cockscomb was a funny name, but it made sense once I read how the name originated from the mountain range dominating the basin that resembles a rooster’s comb. Still, I would have chosen a different name. A Mayan name would be more fitting, similar to how Rabinowitz named all of his collared jaguars after various Mayan Gods.
We were back at Cockscomb, heading up Ben’s Bluff trail to another pristine waterfall. Since there was a small group of school children congregated around the waterfall, we decided to continue on toward the the bluff before taking a dip at the waterfall. Only a few steps past the waterfall trail, a handful of students and their teachers were looking at something in the stream. They pointed out a bright green nonvenomous vine snake floating in the water, but all I could see were a few leaves. Then suddenly, I realized that the really long leaf was indeed a snake! What amazing camouflage!
I was amazed by the lack of bugs on the trails and how we rarely saw any other hikers. We gazed out over the basin and a feeling of complete serenity washed over us. Not a soul was in sight and the only sounds we heard were bird calls and the gentle breeze blowing steadily over the lookout point.
There were no signs of jaguars and even though I knew our chances of seeing one was almost nil, I could only hope that they still existed roaming about the Cockscomb wilderness.
When we returned to the waterfall, everyone had left and we were thrilled to have the place to ourselves for over half an hour.
For Rabinowitz, Cockscomb was both heaven and hell. In his earliest days in Cockscomb, one of the young men assisting him, died from a snake bite. Later on, one jaguar after another died, either as a direct result from breaking their canines on the bars of his traps or from poaching. And yet, throughout all of his trials and tribulations which would have broken the spirit of most people, he persevered and never gave up on his mission to save wild cats and their habitats around the world.
There are places we travel to that never leave us and for Rabinowitz, the Belizean jungle remained in his life forever.
“In the years that followed,” he wrote. “While tracking clouded leopards in Borneo, studying tigers in Thailand, or exploring remote mountain peaks in Laos and Myanmar, that little piece of jungle in Cockscomb was never far from my mind. Its continued existence and development came to be a yardstick for my own life’s success or failure.”
If you travel to Cockscomb, you will see that the land surrounding the reserve is dominated by unending acres of citrus farms. Take a drive along the Southern Highway from Placencia to Punta Gorda, and you’ll see a drastic change in scenery. On our drive, we drove through smoke filled acre upon acre of blackened scorched earth.
What Rabinowitz referred to as his “little piece of jungle” ultimately led the way to the establishment of several national parks and wildlife sanctuaries in Belize. Before Cockscomb, there were no sanctuaries.
I was up early on our last day, watching the sunrise and reading Jaguar’s last chapter. The bugs had found us. Not in the rainforest, but right at our house where the sea grass had accumulated on the beachfront bringing with it those nasty sand fleas. Bathed in layers of OFF, I was determined not to let those sand fleas chase me off of my beloved sunrise deck.
I wanted to save what I felt on that last morning, (aside from the persistent itchiness of my bites). What I felt was profoundly grateful for people like Rabinowitz and the members of the Belize Audubon Society.
The “tiger man” could rest in peace. His tiny piece of jungle was safe and according to one ranger, there were still jaguars roaming the forest. Only now, they are caught with the much better non-invasive camera traps.
THE POINTS ROUNDUP
You get really spoiled traveling on points, but on this trip the only points that we used were our Southwest Rapid Rewards points which covered our airfare. I had applied for the Southwest credit card a few months before our trip and got 40,000 points, plus a companion pass for one year. I later learned that if I had applied at the airport I would’ve gotten 50,000 points. It was an offer that you could only get at the airport. I called Southwest and asked them to honor the 50,000 points deal and will find out soon whether it was approved.
In similar cases, with other cards that I had applied for, the credit card companies would match the point bonuses especially if you contact them within a reasonable amount of time. Recently, I applied for the Marriott Bonvoy card and a week after I was approved my daughter got an email stating that she could get 20,000 bonus points for each referral. She called Chase and told them that I had just gotten approved for the card and they gave her 20,000 points, even though it was after the fact. It certainly was worth the phone call.
TRAVEL TIPS
Be sure that your ticket to Placencia departs from the International Airport (BZE) and not the Municipal Airport (TZA). I bought our flight on Maya Air via Orbitz and had to take a US$25 taxi ride to the Municipal Airport, which was a half hour drive away.
Much to our surprise, we flew right back to the International Airport to pick up a few other passengers who were with us on our flight from Denver, before heading to Placencia.
On our return trip from Placencia, I asked the baggage handler in Belize City if we could get off at the International Airport and he kindly allowed us to deplane saving us the US$25 taxi fare.
Keep an eye on your luggage while waiting at the Placencia Airport. Sadly while we were sitting in the airport lounge, my expensive headphones were stolen out of my carry on luggage. I usually always have my carry on luggage with me, but since we were flying on a small plane, the luggage handler took both pieces of luggage and I completely forgot about the headphones until our next flight. It was the first time in my life that anything has ever been stolen from my luggage and ultimately it was my own fault for not keeping the headphones with me. I should’ve known better.
No wonder those other two passengers held onto their carry on luggage with a death grip. At the time I thought they were being a bit paranoid. Lesson learned – from henceforth, I will not fly with expensive headphones.