We said goodbye to our guide Jose around 11:30 and headed back down to the Mopan River, which we recrossed on the hand-cranked
ferry. Once again, several of our crew enjoyed cranking their way across the river – so much that I wondered
if the ferry operator here ever did any work himself, seeing that so many tourists got a kick out of using the hand crank. Once
back inside the vans on the other side, we rode back to the Chiclero lodge outside of San Ignacio and had lunch there, then around 1 p.m.,
we piled back into the two vans and headed out once again, this time traveling south on the dirt road to San Antonio.
Above: We stopped in San Antonio on our way to Barton Creek and checked out the work we had
done during the past week. The villager kids gave our new sidewalk a "thumbs up." It seems to work.
We reached San Antonio forty minutes later and parked at the elementary school, which was still closed for spring break, so that everyone in
our crew, including the group that had worked at Succotz the last few days, could see the work we had done there this past week. I was
especially impressed with the concrete sidewalk our group had built. Members of my group had poured the concrete for the new sidewalk just
two days earlier and it was now fully set and was being used by villager kids.
After a brief visit to a small grocery store for snacks, we all piled back into the vans for a dusty ride several miles down the dirt
road to a place called Barton Creek, a small tourist establishment consisting of an outdoor bar with a thatched roof, a few houses, and an
outdoor zoo. The zoo had parrots flying about and a frisky male spider monkey who was immediately and, let’s say, “visibly” attracted to some
of our group’s female members, much to their embarrassment.
Barton Creek, which is more like a pond in this area, emerges from a limestone cave that lies at the base of a steep hillside here and enough
water slowly flows from the cave that you can paddle a canoe deep inside it. During our brief stop in San Antonio, we had picked up two school
teachers, including Carlos Cisneros, who had worked with us that week at the elementary school. They would be our guides in the cave and told
us that ancient Mayans used to travel deep inside the cave, using it for ceremonial purposes over a span of hundreds and perhaps even thousands of
years. This was a sacred place. The Mayans had used torches to illuminate their way as they traveled deep into the cave with log rafts,
or they simply swam.
Above: The 2008 Portland Community College/ProBelize Group – minus a few folks (including me because I was
taking the picture).
These days, however, most people use canoes to travel through Barton Creek Cave and the teachers helped us aboard. Three people got into each canoe:
the person sitting in the back paddled while the person in front held a spotlight, which was powered by a car battery. After everyone else got into their
canoes and slowly paddled around the placid creek, I hopped into the last canoe with Carlos: me up front holding a spotlight (and taking pictures) with Carlos
in the stern paddling and telling us all about the cave.
With Carlos and I leading the way, our flotilla of six canoes entered the huge cave. Carlos told us that since the cave had been used as a
ceremonial site by the ancient Mayans, we should keep our eyes peeled for artifacts. Sure enough, as we slowly paddled the still waters and
traveled further back into the darkening cave, we began to see evidence of Mayans, including long-abandoned clay pottery perched on
limestone platforms several feet above the water level.
The cave was wide enough in some places for two or even three canoes to paddle side-by-side. After we paddled in the cave for a few minutes, it
gradually became totally dark except for our spotlights. Carlos hushed us and asked us to turn off our spotlights for a few moments and as we sat
in our canoes in the total darkness, we heard absolute silence, save for an occasional drip from the ceiling into the still waters of the creek.
From The Pirates of the Caribbean (or Barton Creek Cave), here's Yo Ho, A Pirate's Life for Me.
We turned our spotlights back on and continued paddling slowly for another half-hour, going farther and farther back into the abyss, illuminated
only by our beams of light that danced across the walls and ceiling of the mysterious cave. Perhaps it wasn't befitting of such a sacred and
honored place, but as our boats traveled through the darkness in the cave's heavy and humid tropical air, the trip started reminding me of the
“Pirates of the Caribbean” ride at Disneyland – but without the peg-legged pirates repeatedly singing, “Yo ho, a pirate’s life for me."
I loved it and was deeply humbled by the experience.
But alas, we finally reached a point where the cave ceiling descended to a point just a few inches above the water’s surface, making it
impossible to proceed in our canoes even if we laid flat. We swished our paddles, turned around and headed back. Carlos told
me that he had explored the cave well past that point using flashlights and that it extended for several hundred feet beyond.
Lacking a flashlight and swimming trunks, I decided to take his word for it.
We paddled back towards the entrance, still in total darkness, until I started seeing a subtle hint of light way up ahead. After several more
minutes I could make out the entrance to the cave and a few minutes later, we emerged back into the daylight. After stepping ashore and removing
our life vests, our group walked up to the outdoor bar, where we spent a half-hour enjoying warm conversation and, of course, cold Belikin beer.
Our paddle into Barton Creek cave had been an incredible adventure and was something totally unique. It was a magical and humbling experience
that I would never forget.
Above left: On the way to Barton Creek, we stopped at a little store in San Antonio to pick up some snacks.
Above center: Americans are always hungry.
Above right: I laughed at all the political signs I saw around the country, including this one in San
Antonio. Just like in the U.S., there's a Blue Party and a Red Party in Belize. The U.D.P. had won the country's presidential election
just a week earlier. Whew – what a "Relief"!
Above left: Approaching Barton Creek cave. In the center that's Carlos, our guide (and a teacher at San Antonio).
Above center: An inquisitive parrot at the Barton Creek zoo.
Above right: And a frisky male spider monkey. This little fellow liked Adrian well enough, but he liked the
women in our group even more. And it showed.
Above left: Carlos (right) telling us about the ancient Mayans who had used the cave for religious
purposes for hundreds of years.
Above right: Carlos helped everyone into their canoes before we entered Barton Creek Cave.
That's the cave entrance in the background.
Above left: Entering the cave. Ooh, what fun!
Above right: This is about a quarter-mile into the cave. Ancient Mayan pottery sits on some of the
ledges high above the water. They used torches and ingenuity to get here; we used spotlights and a fiberglass canoe.
Above left: Time to turn around. Yo, ho, a pirate's life for me!
Above center: After paddling for another 20 minutes we reached the entrance. What an amazing experience.
Above right: All that paddling builds up a thirst, so time for a Belikin.
Above: Here's a short video about the week we spent in Belize.
One of my co-volunteers, Gary Martel, created the base video and I added the titles and did some minor editing. The
music is by Belizean legend Andy Palacio who, ironically (and sadly), died a few weeks before we arrived.