Monkey River & Seal Cay, Belize
This morning, Sea Lion was at anchor in tan, cloudy water, half a mile off Monkey River. The waves were a strange shade of tan as far as the eye could see, save for a small patch of green right along our starboard side. The river had risen three-and-a-half feet in the previous 24 hours, and its rushing waters carried an enormous amount of silt and clay to the sea. At river’s end, this fresh water spread and flowed out on top of the denser salt water. The ship’s hull disturbed the flow of this ‘dirty’ river water, so that right against the seaward side of the anchored ship a patch of green salt water was visible. Its green color indicated an abundance of phytoplankton (tiny, drifting algae).
Local guides joined us as we cruised up the Monkey River in Zodiacs. It fully lived up to its name; we caught sight of several troops of black howler monkeys in trees. They were quiet, but we saw their dark bodies against the sky. Our Zodiac drivers brought us right up to an old tree that leaned over the water, and we got nose to nose with roosting bats. Iguanas rested on horizontal tree limbs, and we spotted a five-foot long crocodile that was partially concealed in the submerged grasses at the river’s edge. The river was high and running fast, so kayakers paddled hard to get upstream, then enjoyed the scenery as they coasted downstream. A few hikers explored a new trail with a local guide, and came back very happy and very muddy, too, thanks to recent rains.
After lunch we anchored at Seal Cay, at the southern end of Belize’s barrier reef. The Cay itself is tiny, but the surrounding reef is extensive. We snorkeled among large coral heads over a relatively flat bottom, and enormous sea fans waved gracefully in the surge.
The colors at the reef were so intense they did not appear real. Above, the sky was a beautiful blue, and the water was every conceivable shade of turquoise, plus one. The water was a patchwork of lighter tones over sand, and dark shades of brown over clumps of corals. Where the water depth dropped to 3000 feet, there was deep indigo. Why the blue colors? Blue is the color of water when it has virtually no sediment or plankton in it. A plankton tow revealed a sparse population of microscopic plants and animals.
We started cocktail hour conversing outside on the bridge deck, sipping piña coladas conversing. All around us the waters were impossibly bright, countless shades of blue.
This morning, Sea Lion was at anchor in tan, cloudy water, half a mile off Monkey River. The waves were a strange shade of tan as far as the eye could see, save for a small patch of green right along our starboard side. The river had risen three-and-a-half feet in the previous 24 hours, and its rushing waters carried an enormous amount of silt and clay to the sea. At river’s end, this fresh water spread and flowed out on top of the denser salt water. The ship’s hull disturbed the flow of this ‘dirty’ river water, so that right against the seaward side of the anchored ship a patch of green salt water was visible. Its green color indicated an abundance of phytoplankton (tiny, drifting algae).
Local guides joined us as we cruised up the Monkey River in Zodiacs. It fully lived up to its name; we caught sight of several troops of black howler monkeys in trees. They were quiet, but we saw their dark bodies against the sky. Our Zodiac drivers brought us right up to an old tree that leaned over the water, and we got nose to nose with roosting bats. Iguanas rested on horizontal tree limbs, and we spotted a five-foot long crocodile that was partially concealed in the submerged grasses at the river’s edge. The river was high and running fast, so kayakers paddled hard to get upstream, then enjoyed the scenery as they coasted downstream. A few hikers explored a new trail with a local guide, and came back very happy and very muddy, too, thanks to recent rains.
After lunch we anchored at Seal Cay, at the southern end of Belize’s barrier reef. The Cay itself is tiny, but the surrounding reef is extensive. We snorkeled among large coral heads over a relatively flat bottom, and enormous sea fans waved gracefully in the surge.
The colors at the reef were so intense they did not appear real. Above, the sky was a beautiful blue, and the water was every conceivable shade of turquoise, plus one. The water was a patchwork of lighter tones over sand, and dark shades of brown over clumps of corals. Where the water depth dropped to 3000 feet, there was deep indigo. Why the blue colors? Blue is the color of water when it has virtually no sediment or plankton in it. A plankton tow revealed a sparse population of microscopic plants and animals.
We started cocktail hour conversing outside on the bridge deck, sipping piña coladas conversing. All around us the waters were impossibly bright, countless shades of blue.
