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BELIZE RIVER CHALLENGE By: Joe Bourgeois An edited version of this story appeared in the March 1999 edition of Voyager Magazine.
It's 4:00am on a hot March morning in San Ignacio, Belize Central America. I'm wandering the dark streets looking for my team mates. There are people everywhere at this god-forsaken time in the morning. The excitement is building on the street, the first ever Belize River canoe race in the country's history was about to begin. This is a race by canoe through the Central American jungle, starting near the Guatemalan border and ending 4 days later in Belize City on the coast of the Caribbean Sea. I was lucky, just yesterday I wandered into San Ignacio and noticed a sign advertising for canoe racers. I talked to some local people and sure enough, within 20 minutes I had 2 farm boys interested and I signed up "Team Canada". Belize is generally an English speaking country, these were the only 2 guys in all of Belize who didn't speak a word of English, but it didn’t matter to me, I had a team in the race. If only I could find my team! I found my team mates and we picked up our canoe from a local family. These canoes were not custom racing machines, no way, these were standard fibreglass cottage specials with about an inch of freeboard once they were in the water, empty! The rules state there must be 3 people in a canoe. This meant participants' canoes needed a centre seat. This seat was made from a creative mix of old milk crates, wooden boxes, lawn chairs or anything else hanging around the back yard. The bridge in town was the starting line and we were instructed to line up under it and wait for the 5:00 am starting time. We paddled to the starting line and waited. I was officially the only foreigner in the race, the race organisers were very happy with this, it meant the race now had an "international" status. I looked around and saw a mixture of participants; some canoes had lean and mean looking locals ready to take the river by storm, other canoes had the family packed in, ready for a leisurely day on the water. Either way, there were only about 2 people on the water that day who had ever paddled more than one day on a canoe trip. I was one of them! Later I was to find out what the local people lacked in canoe tripping experience, they sure made up in brutal endurance and speed when it came to paddling a canoe. Just as the very first rays of light touched the water the gun went off. This was the beginning of the most enduring and exciting canoe trip I had ever been on. With all our energy, our team plunged our paddles into the water, each stroke accelerating our canoe ahead of the chaos at the starting line. We were in fourth place by the first 100 metres. The goal was to win the first station prize. In addition to the over all first, second and third place winners, the station prizes were awarded to the first team to reach various landmarks on the river throughout the race. We were closing the gap to first place and coming up to the first station prize marker when the river suddenly lost its depth and we grounded the canoe. We got out to drag the canoe over the shoal when I lost my sandal. I ran back to get my sandle, but my team didn't wait, they kept running with the canoe. I ran after them, stumbling like an idiot in the water. I finally caught up. 12 canoes past us, oh well, if I could speak Spanish I would have told my crew, 'I'm sorry!' The Belize River has been the centre of transportation of the local Mayan people for centuries. For years it was the only route into the interior until a road was built in the middle of this century. It is rich in culture and history and provides a habitat for the jaguar, the black howler monkey, iguana, tumar, anteaters, armadillos, deer, peccary and many other native mammals. In addition, nearly 200 bird species and 100 tree species are found along its banks. The first day I frequently stopped paddling to take pictures of the amazing scenery, that ended after a few unhappy looks from my team mates. I didn't have to speak the language to understand someone telling me to stop acting like a tourist and paddle the damn canoe!
The first day we paddled a number of class 1 and 2 rapids. There was a considerable danger with the number of sweepers in the river, which were knocked down trees from the yearly wet season. I'm not sure how they did this; but one team dumped their canoe and somehow managed to get their canoe stuck 'up' into a tree about 2 metres above a set of rapids. I would have loved to been there to see that! The paddling was tough in the heat, but the team gave it all. Villagers from miles away came to the banks of the river to watch the race. Entire families in dug out canoes followed us and cheered us on, it felt great. The whole country was watching and listening for news on how far down the river the race progressed and which teams were out in front. It was a sight to see how important this river is to the local people; it provides them with drinking water, fish, transportation and a handy place to do the laundry.
By the end of the first day we came in 21st place. Not great, but still the top 3rd of 60 canoes. The race finished the first day at a remote clearing in the middle of the jungle near a place called 'Banana Bank'. I had no tent or sleeping bag, my camping gear consisted of a cheap plastic poncho as my "sleeping pad", a bed sheet I brought from home, and a bug net. I wasn't planning on sleeping in the jungle during my travels, or canoe racing for that matter. My only hope was that it does not rain during the race or I'm in trouble!
I had just finished my non-vegetarian dinner when I got the news - my team mates were quitting! 'What? What the hell for?" I asked their English speaking friend, who obviously was elected to tell me the news. He said they wanted to go back to the farm to work because they do not think we will win the race, and they really wanted the $5000 first prize money. "There was no way we were going to win anyway, what the hell were they expecting?" I said politely. It turns out they thought I was some sort of canoeing racer from back in Canada, and they thought for sure I'd take them to the finish line in first place. They needed money and could not afford the four days missing work. I was flattered about the Canadian racer part, but could not believe the rest. In the end they took off with the canoe and that was the last I saw of them. I was stranded up the jungle creek with no paddle, canoe or lifejacket. I pulled myself together and set out to find another team, or some way to get home. It turned out a few teams either fired one of their team mates for lack of work, or some people didn't feel they could paddle another three days and left the race. After being tossed around a bit I finely ended up with two very large muscular Belize gentleman named Reuben and Quincey. These guys were serious looking boys who had just kicked their centre paddler off the team for not paddling hard enough. "Sure, I'll go on your team", I reluctantly told them. I hope I don't disappoint them. Once again we were all up at 4:00am to get ready for the 5:00am starting time. This was to be the longest paddling day of the race. I would love to tell you we paddled 100 or more kilometres a day, but the problem was none of the race officials had any accurate idea how far each section of the race actually was. The river is so windy that no one bothered figuring it out on a map. On average we paddled between 5 and 14 hours a day during each section of the race. This stretch of the race was to end at a place called 'Bermudian Landing'. As the sun began to rise above the rain forest I looked around and saw half the number of canoes from yesterday. It turned out that half the teams found the race to hard and left the race the night before. From here on, all the teams would make it to the historic ending. The race officials stocked each canoe with enough food and water to last the long day. Our team was ready. I was given the honour of sitting on the cooler of food in the middle of the canoe. The cooler was comfortable, but with me on top it made the canoe a little bit unstable. At 5:00am the gun went off and the starting line chaos began. As usual, a number of canoes dumped from the mass of collisions at the start. Another canoe hit ours and we almost dumped. This put us back 10 places as we tried to correct ourselves and we spent the rest of the day making up for it.
After about 2 hours the canoes spread out and we were alone on the river. The jungle became thicker and the river narrow and windy. I could hear in the distance what I travelled all the way from Canada to experience - the eerie roar of the black howler monkey. It grew louder and louder as we descended down the river until finally there they were; a troop of about 8 monkeys in a group of trees beside the river. The sound they make can be heard over 2 kilometres. Imagine a bunch of Lions in a tree roaring in and out of sync. The sound vibrates right through your body and can shake the coins right out of your pants!. The black howler monkey is known locally as the "baboon" and is an endangered species found only in Belize, southern Mexico and isolated areas of Guatemala. I saw Iguanas, spider monkeys, jabiru storks and a variety of lizards along the banks. The longer I was on this river the more I felt the presence of the ancient Mayan people. I could imagine the way it was centuries ago when the Mayan people travelled these waters, making their way west toward the ancient cities near the Guatemalan borders or east toward the food sources of the sea. This river supplied them with food and transportation, much as it is today for many of the local people. The day drew on and now it was important to get to Bermudian Landing before it got dark. The urgency was to avoid the crocodiles surfacing and feeding at night, something I usually don't worry about when I am canoeing in Canada. We weren't planing on being the day's dinner! In fact one of the teams did hit a crocodile and nearly tipped. We were given no map so we used the locals along the river as a source to find out where we were on the river, "How far to Bermudian Landing?", we would ask. "3 Miles!" was the standard response. As a matter of fact for most of the day we kept hearing the same damn response, "3 Miles!, 3 Miles!" We never rested, each of us gave it all we could for 10 hours straight until finally, around a long bend there it was, Bermudian Landing. There must have been 200 villagers along the bank to greet us. They cheered as each canoe landed. The festive atmosphere was evident everywhere, music, drinks and dancing. The spirit of the canoe race was catching on throughout the country. The radio station in Belize city was broadcasting live updates as the race progressed and reporters from the Belize television station were there to get the opinions of the race contestants. The local village of Bermudian Landing had organised this big party for us. Unfortunately the last thing we wanted to do was stay up late and party! We ate dinner and went to bed as soon as we could. As my tired body drifted off to sleep, I tried to distinguish between the howler monkeys roaring deep in the jungle, and the local village band blaring out raggae music until 3:00am! Today we slept in until 5:30am! We were on the water for a 7:00am start. What an amazing experience, the howler monkeys roared away as I watched the sun rise. The mist on the water turned colours of red and orange as the sun rose and the first light of the day touched the water. I came to grips with how alive this place is, how every creature and every plant plays an important roll in the survival of the rainforest. This area of Belize is unique in the world; local communities along this section of this river have banned together to create their own sanctuary called the "Belize Community Baboon Sanctuary", to protect the forest and the rare howler monkey's habitat. Since 1985 the local land owners, who own property along this section of the river, have voluntarily pledged to protect forests along the river bank, leaving food trees when clearing land and maintaining corridors of forest along farm areas. These management practices have benefited the landowners by reducing erosion and have protected the habitat, which has kept the howler monkey population healthy and strong. When the gun went off I looked down at the bottom of the canoe, pulled on my paddle and we were off. I never looked up again. Today was the day to paddle hard and pass as many canoes as possible. I missed most of the scenery today as our team concentrated on paddling and over taking canoes one by one. When we finished at the end of the day at the village of Burrell Boom, the other teams talked of how our team managed to overtake every canoe we saw in the distance. The problem was, all our power seemed to come half way through the day. We had too many slow starts and spent the rest of the day playing catch-up. And catch-up we did, coming in 9th this day and overtaking over 15 canoes! This race was getting more intense as the days went on and the prize money drew nearer. I was just setting up my pathetic little camping spot when Rueben, my team mate, ran up to me in a huff, "Joe, can I borrow your soap? I was in the river washing, when a large black snake came at me! I grabbed a paddle from a canoe and starting swinging at it, I lost my soap in the water." "No problem…you can borrow my soap anytime man". I immediately packed up my stuff and moved a considerable distance from the shore. When I woke up in the morning there was a dead tarantula beside me. I wished I brought my tent! Today was the last day, the final push to Belize City on the Caribbean Sea. The end of the canoe race was co-ordinated to kick off the national holiday called Baron Bliss Day. This is a holiday celebrating the memory of English sportsman Baron Henry Edward Ernest Victor Bliss who left Belize a generous portion of his will which has been used for many important community projects in the country. We were to paddle down the Belize River, then just before we reach the sea, we were to turn right up Hanover Creek to Belize City and end at the Swing Bridge down town. Word was out and we knew the crowds were waiting. We started at 8:00am. The first goal was a bridge about 300 metres away. The first one to cross under the bridge wins $1000. We made it 3rd but no prize for us. We paddled hard and competition was fierce throughout the day. Everyone wanted to make up time, since this was an accumulated time race. Canoe rivals battled each other to stay in the lead. There were a few teams, that no matter what, we wanted to finish ahead of them. It was important today to beat the incoming tide, which would make it difficult to make it up Hanover Creek. As we approached the end of the Belize River and neared the Hanover creek turn off, a Manatee surfaced near our canoe. These are giant sea creatures about the size of a cow, which feed on vegetation at the bottom of the sea and fresh water rivers. They are very friendly and are a thrill to see in the wild. We made it to Hanover Creek just as the tied was turning which gave us enough slack to paddle up its murky waters. The creek was very narrow and the banks were filled with mangrove trees. This made it difficult to pass a canoe. Thirty minutes later the creek suddenly opened up and there we were in Belize City. There must have been a thousand people lined along the banks cheering us on as we made the final strokes to the Swing Bridge finish line. I haven't had that many people cheer me on since my Grade 7 teacher made me get up on stage and dance the Irish jig! The Swing Bridge was full of people as we approached the finish line. With a final stroke we crossed under the bridge and the crowd cheered! We had come in 10th over all, out of 60 teams which originally started the race. We landed on the shore and got out of the canoe to greet the other teams and shake hands with the many people there to meet us. One-hundred meters from the bridge was the beginning of the beautiful Caribbean Sea, its turquoise waters and the white sand islands out in the distance were breathtaking. What an ending to a great canoe trip. When Joe Bourgeois is not travelling he is busy running Akuni Adventures, a canoe tripping company from Ontario. Joe Bourgeois, 1210-3266 Yonge Street, Toronto, Ontario, M4N 3P6, 416-410-7240 email: info@akuni.com The Belize River Race Committee is interested in Canadian Teams to participate in this year's race in March 1999. For more information please contact Joe Bourgeois. Copy right Joe Bourgeois 1999 |
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