Vicarious Travel: I Will Belize It When I See It
Trip Start
May 23, 2005
1
30
36
Trip End
Mar 25, 2006
Caye caulker,
Belize
Wednesday, February 1, 2006
1. Significant 'other' - This excuse could take the form of a dog, a job, a boyfriend, a mortgage payment or even house arrest. It is extremely convenient justification and is hardly ever disputable but equally rarely valid
beach
. I say where there's a will there's a way. Southern translation: Git 'er dun.2. Money - The end-all excuse. Most people believe that traveling abroad is prohibitively expense. Few people realize that even reasonably mindful traveling can be done on much less than what they spend on their normal day to day living. Upon learning this fact many people default to excuse number one, citing 'other' reasons why they can't leave.
3. Fear of the unknown or going it alone - This is an innate apprehension within all of us. The motivation to travel may be strong in somebody, but just as they are becoming emboldened to take that all-important step and buy an airline ticket they say "But what will I do? How can I do it alone?" Suddenly the mind races down the list of excuses: "And I don't think I have enough money. What if I run out? And who will take care of my plants?"
4. Comfort with routine - There are those who need and even thrive on a regulated schedule. Those who seem to be more productive between the hours of 8-5 Eastern Standard Time, Monday thru Friday, week in and week out. Then there are those who are the opposite; who crave constant change and require novelty. Those who shrivel under the glow of 100 watt office bulbs. I believe I relate more to this latter group while so many seem to be of the former. To each their own. Neither these people nor I can imagine what they would do in a situation where there is no work to be done, no schedule to follow, no planned activities, no structure and endless time. This is the world in which I live and love. It's called Travelandia. I see it as paradise where others may see it as torture
island rules
. In that case, it becomes a wonderful excuse not to travel. Here is where a lot of people say "I will just travel through you vicariously." I am not sure what that statement particularly means but one thing is for sure: You aren't Patrick Swayze, I am not Whoppi Goldberg, and this isn't the movie Ghost.In Travelandia there are endless ways to spend time. There are so many possibilities out here that time is still always of the essence. Boredom is impossible. And without a schedule time often feels unlimited. But it does have its confines. Unfortunatley, inevitably there is an ending point. So what types of activities transpire in this seemingly fictitious universe? Here is a recent memoir from Travelandia:
Scuba Dooba Do It
In the pouring rain the waves toss the small boat. I am wobbly as I strap on a wetsuit, a tank of highly compressed air and a mask. Faced backward I plop overboard. Now mostly submerged, the waves lap against my face. I give the okay signal to my buddy and I drop my head below the clear water. I am scuba diving. Descending below the surface immediately changes my perspective. No matter how many times one has dived before, the contrast to the stormy waters above and the relative serenity below never ceases to send a warm calming effect through the body. It could be storming, rain pouring, howling wind, and massive white caps on the ocean surface when I plunge from the side of the boat into the warm water. But the minute I let some air out of my jacket and begin to sink into the ocean depths, I am in another world. The state of the ocean surface and the atmosphere are a matter for the humans and other land animals now, not me
pelican
. Under the water it is always peaceful, calm and quiet. As I slowly descend to depth, adjusting all the way down by popping my ears, I realize that all has gone silent. The only sounds are my own breathing. It is a heavy breathing sound like I am wearing a space helmet. A release of breath and the sound of a million air bubbles expelled into the ocean. My buddy is looking across at me as he descends. Collectively, we have taken a silent vow of silence for there can be no talking underwater. It is a much needed reprise from the noise of terra firma. For the next 45 minutes all conversation will be spoken with the hands. And there won't be much.
With sound gone, smell and taste effectively neutralized by the salt water, and touch only sensing constant wet warmth because of submersion in water, my only sensory weapon becomes my vision. Every piece of sensory information arrives via my eyes - and there are tons. Although the ocean depths are a simpler place to navigate than the trickily maneuvered cityscapes we dwell in - there are no cars to dodge, no holes to fall into, no people to ignore or try to shuffle past, no sounds ringing in my ear - the longer I stay down I notice that the ocean is a flurry of activity in itself. An underwater world of ecosystems functioning independently from our own.
My eyes first notice the geography. The ocean floor 70 feet below can be sandy and as barren as a desert, combed in patterns by the ocean current like a sand dune is by wind, with only the occasional flat flounder ruffling its body underneath the sand. Or the land can be mountainous with jagged rocks sticking up from the ocean floor. This more complicated geography provides shelter for many kinds of life. Small, brightly colored fish scurry fearfully between tiny caves in the rocks. Lobsters are tucked underneath large boulders, only their long, prodding antennae sticking out from under the rock to tell you they are there. Exotic fish such as the slender and spiny black and white-striped spotted drum use the shelter created by the rocks to perform a flirtatious dance. The stones are also home to the most important sea animal, the one which sustains the rest of the local diversity, the coral. Scores of different coral - from immense dully colored but sensuously rounded brain coral to pink, yellow and orange varieties with the most delicate and jagged of arms reaching away from the reef for nutrients - can be found within swimming distance and decorating the rocks in a fireworks display of hues.
This is where the most exciting fish come to play. This is the jungle and the fish are the mammals and birds and reptiles. A square-shaped blue and orange parrotfish bobs above the reef. A school of tetra dart between arms of the coral. A sea snake slithers through the narrow caverns between rocks on the sandy floor. Some fish are more elusive, changing color as they pass from black rocks to crimson coral.
Sea plants compliment the bright and otherworldly coral. They also provide shelter and sustenance for the animals. Extraterrestrial looking flora resemble the fragility and exquisite design of coral as if there were an undersea beauty pageant and the most colorful and original will win. A three foot long purple tube in the shape of an oboe juts up from a rock. Giant sea fans wave in the current. A neon green moray eel slinks through a garden of sea grass. Characters of evil appearance with sharp teeth gnash against the plants for anything resembling food. The jungle is alive.
Now I sit, motionless. Upon arrival I upset the balance of the area. All have noticed my presence - underwater I am a large, ominous and awkward creature. I slow my breathing and restrict my movement. Controlling my buoyancy, I float on my stomach, drifting at the discretion of the current. I have become part of the serene scene. Soon the reef and its inhabitants have accepted me and all the animals go back about their business. Some are even curious. Small yellow and black friends swim right up to my goggles to say hi. I reach out to shake their hand but they are too quick.
All of a sudden I am in the middle of a school of two foot long fish that resemble tuna. They cruise right past me - silver, muscular and sleek - searching for succulent prey. The other reef dwellers return to their caverns. When the hunters pass the daily activities resume. Ten feet above my head an evil, elongated barracuda loiters. The fish keep their distance but he is not looking for them.
Now that I am one of the animals I float above the reef looking down on the jungle, my breath calm and hypnotic and regulated. A little flip of one fin and I am moving slowly above the reef. It's as if I am stationary and the coral and rocks, plants and animals ride slowly by on a conveyor belt, displaying themselves to me without any of my own effort. If I had just a snorkel I would be floating on the surface of the water only, frantically kicking my fins and being knocked around by the waves. But down here at 20 meters depth the weather is tranquil and I am of the ocean not just in it.
As I drift along my mind is empty - my eyes an ultra sharp sensory organ and flooded with information. Every view is an IMAX 3D movie. The light of the sun filters through the clear water and dances on the underwater seascapes. Fabulous color abounds from every direction, from bright blue and green angelfish to bursts of fiery red coral. No matter how dull the scenery above the water, the ocean explodes with dazzling life and myriad shades of all hues.
A delicate seahorse hovers in front of me. As I pass him he rises a few feet. Too lazy to stop to watch his tiny flippers propel him upwards, I simply roll onto my back. I have lost sight of him. All I see now are millions of my bubbles floating to the water's surface just as rain falls from the sky onto a lake. The surface is distant. The bubbles are going home to the sky. The rain is coming home to the water. The similarities between the air and the water continue. The water's surface appears the same looking up from the water as it does looking down from the sky. In fact it is the same surface with the same ripples - it's just that I am looking from the other side. Still on my back looking up, it is easy to imagine that I am floating in the air and looking down at the surface of the water from high in the sky. With so little movement in the water fish become birds. They flap upside down by using their fins as wings, moving though the sky with the greatest of ease. Then what looks like a giant blimp passes through the airspace just above me. It's a huge seat turtle paddling along.
Satisfied with my fluid reversal fantasy I roll back onto my stomach. I am approaching a black, jagged rock wall - the bottom of an ocean cliff which extends to the top of the water. As I near, the light is occluded and darkness grows. Squid shuttle away nervously. With even less sensory information my senses are dulled even further and I must rely on the miniscule amount of light and my sense of touch to navigate the rocks. The sound of my inhalation intensifies. The echoes of slow deep breathing resonate inside my body until it feels like I am wearing an entire space suit, complete with Darth Vader helmet. In fact, pulling myself along the rock wall I begin to believe I am guiding myself on a spacewalk. I push away from the cliff and throw my body into a controlled spin. There is no gravity in this perfectly buoyant state. I am upside down, then right side up then sideways. My movements are slow and purposeful as I reach out to another rock with one hand and stop my movement. Holding the rock is the only thing that prevents me from drifting away into the darkness of space. My body floats behind me in this antigravity chamber and even the slightest of movement sends my body lurching slowly in one direction, perhaps forever.
Then I am pulled out of my spacewalk escapade. I hear a sharp, piercing metal sound which clanks three times. I look a few feet above me into the blinding light. It is my dive buddy tapping his tank with a rock. With a thumbs up he signals me it is time to surface. My space mission and my flight through the air with the inverted bird fish are finished...for now. I inflate my lungs just enough to slowly begin to rise up the cliff wall, passing jellyfish as I ascend. I look down at the calm ocean floor and sparkling reefs once more. I realize I will need to come back soon as the scenery below becomes distant and murky. My ocean friends stay behind while the light above becomes brighter.
Now I feel the choppy surface of the ocean approaching. The sounds of water moving and splashing dominate. Peace and tranquility are left far behind. I break the surface water with a loud splash. I am in the open ocean struggling against the current. White caps break over my head while rain beats down hard on the water's surface. I miss the less temperamental ocean floor. I bob up and down looking for my buddy, who appears then vanishes in the chop. Our boat comes into sight on the horizon. We climb in. I awkwardly maneuver on the deck, nearly slipping. My heavy tank and weight belt pull me to the floor. A fish out of water. As I slip off my gear the waves roll the boat. I hunker in the cabin out of the rain. My buddy comes in. He asks, "How was it?" I reply only with a smile and he knows. "45 minutes and we can go back down," he states. I agree.
