A Three Hour Tour. A Three Hour Tour.

I took a tour today, a three hour tour, in my kayak.  Click here to listen to the theme music.  The sea was beautifully flat and the sky was beautifully clear; perfect conditions.

But let me back up to last week when  Dennis and I had rescued the kayak from its forgotten spot next to the back landing on Black Creek where, unbeknownst to us, it had become a repository for what ever crap the work crew or others felt like flinging into it as they came and went.  We found old fiberglass from boat repairs, rags from cleaning the boat engine, and glass soda bottles tossed into it.  It had also become a home for little crabs and termites had made a nest under the seat.  The hollow body of the kayak was full of water because the storage cover was loose and the rod sockets had cracked or missing bottoms.  What a mess.  We drained most of the water out, although the drain hole kept getting plugged with all the algae that was growing in the water, and then hauled the kayak back the cabana.  I hosed it down and tried, with some success, to spray into the hollow body to get the algae cleaned out.  Got the termites cleared out, too.  Pascal helped me get the rest of the water out and we hauled it to the front (sea-ward side) of the cabana.  Pascal helped me pick a convenient spot to "park" it when not in use.  So the kayak was ready and waiting for me when this perfect day dawned.

I hadn't planned on a three hour tour. I had thought I would just give it a little shakedown cruise, but it was so wonderful out on the water that I just kept going.  Perhaps my subconscious mind had been alert to that possibility because I did take a water bottle and sarong, and put on my wide-brimmed hat, sea worthy sunglasses, long-sleeved shirt, and sunscreen (not in that order).

Here is my 5.5 mile route.

Kayak route is in turquoise.  It starts at the little white patch that is almost in the center of the image.  The white patch is our place.  The orange line is the Monkey River Road.

From our beach I headed south and then out to Little Monkey Cay.  Saw lots of big orange cushion starfish.  The water is very shallow between our place and Little Monkey Cay.  From there I headed into deep water and then north to Great Monkey Cay.  The deep water was the most fabulous opalescent turquoise that swallowed the rays of the sun before they touched bottom.  I always have a little frisson of fear when I pass over the edge and below me the bottom gives way to nothingness ...

But with the calm sea and the brilliant sun the fear is quickly gone and I continued my slow strokes toward Great Monkey Cay.  The brilliant sun also prompted me to cover my bare legs and feet with the sarong brought along for just that purpose.  Wetted down with sea water, the sarong provides cooling protection from the intense sun.  Soon the bottom rose again to greet me - large and small coral heads nestled in turtle grass meadows with a scattering of purple sea fans swaying in the current.  Pelicans joined me in the shallows around Great Monkey Cay to feed on the schools of little bait fish.  I explored some really nice corals on the north side of Great Monkey Cay. The water was a little turbid, so I didn't bother to use the snorkel gear I brought with me.

As I left Great Monkey Cay to go farther north, I saw an occasional clear jellyfish languidly propelling itself along.  Back in the deep water, a small school of large fish surged to the surface with eye-catching flashes of silver.  I made my way slowly along a ridge of corals that come in close to shore on my way to Pine Ridge Creek.  The creek water was very turbid with visibilities of only about 5 or 6 feet.  I did spot some very small and delicate jelly fish just beneath the water's surface and also some needle-like fish.  I didn't see many birds, but did hear some back in the mangroves.

Finally I turned back to begin the trip back home.  I kept closer to shore on the way back and was rewarded with good views of an anhinga sunning itself and a shy immature yellow-crowned night heron.  I heard Craig out on his dock and paddled up to say hello.  Glad I did because the young son of Craig's friend John joined me in Craig's kayak for the last leg home.  I have a kayak date with him tomorrow morning if the day proves good and go out to Great Monkey Cay if dad permits.

My three hour tour drew to a close and I was famished.  It felt fantastic to be out in the kayak for the first time in almost 3 years.  Next time I will be sure to pack a snack to I can stay out longer.

More Views From a Kayak

A flock of Great Egrets overhead is always a good start to a day.

This flock was heading south toward Little Monkey Cay as I was getting ready to kayak north into the marshes.

The only other abundant large white egret in this region of the world is the Snowy Egret. 

The Snowy Egrets have "golden slippers" (i.e., yellow feet), so because these birds don't have golden slippers and they do have black legs and feet, they are Great Egrets.  An uncommon (in this area, anyway) large white egret is the "Great White Heron" which is the white morph of the Great Blue Heron.  They have yellow legs and feet.  

In a nutshell there are 3 large white egrets/herons in Belize.  They can be identified on the basis of leg and foot color.  Great White Herons have yellow legs and yellow feet, just like their blue morphs do.  Snowy Egrets have black legs with golden slippers and Great Egrets have black legs and black feet.  There are other, smaller, white egrets around like Cattle Egrets and juvenile Little Blue Herons, but the size difference helps discriminates between them.

This day, I kayaked by myself into the marshes and explored a shrimp farm drainage canal.

For most if its length, the  canal was fairly wide with steep sides.  

In places it became narrow with overhanging vegetation.  I'll show some ferns and other plants in another post.  I paddled all the way to a small dam at the end of the canal before I turned around and came back.

Back in the marsh, I found my old friend the Yellow-Crowned Night Heron.

It kept its eyes on me as I glided past.

I got very close to it.

I wanted to get as close as I could with out making it fly off.  I think since I was by myself and hadn't been making much noise that it was not as uneasy as it was the other day when we had 2 kayaks and some quiet conversation going on.

While in the marsh and the canal, I did not hear a single human-made sound other than what I was making.  It was so serene and almost other-worldly; one could forget the existence of civilization (almost - except where did that high-tech camera, cell phone, and even plastic kayak come from? hmmm?).  As I got back to the open sea, I began to hear the occasional boat motor and I prepared to re-enter what we call the real world.  But I think the real world was what I left behind in the marsh ...