The Wind Star
Honduras, Belize, Mexico 

She swings into the wind, her four masts line up as one behind her sleek pointed bow. I watch her as I saunter along the beach of Coco Plum Caye (pronounced key.) Palms do their fey swish thing in the breeze. Hermit crabs scurry across my path carrying outsized shells. Looking out to sea, I see she’s swung around—about 180 degrees—showing me her dolphin-like tail—a smokestack, in fact. Her masts, spars and rigging sketch an architectural drawing against the sky. Behind her to the west, the hills of Belize are shrouded by fast-moving rains. Coco Plum Caye is on the east side of Belize’s long coral reef, second in extent only to the Great Barrier Reef.

It’s just another perfect day of my island vacation—except, I’m on a shore excursion from a cruise ship and she is my cruise ship. She’s the Wind Star. She can carry 148 passengers, but there are only 80 of us this voyage. We’ve sailed, literally, from Cancun to Honduras and are now making our way back by way of Belize and Cozumel. The Wind Star is a four-masted schooner, normally she’s powered by a combination of sails and engines. Although if the winds play, she’ll use only her sails, and if they don’t she can just use her engines.

The Wind Star is the sole cruise ship allowed inside Belize’s protected reef. She was granted this privilege after demonstrating she could be within the reef without harming it. Among other things, she won’t set anchor inside the reef. Anchors are very hard on coral. Nearly one-third of Belize and all of its reef are environmentally protected. The Belizeans are serious about safeguarding their natural beauty and resources—and, as the locals say, "you better Belize it."

A rainbow hangs over Coco Plum Caye as our zodiac (motorized raft) chases a cloudburst to the island. We land by a grass-thatched cabana offering shelter (along with cold drinks and bathrooms) to the huge number of my fellow cruisers parked there—maybe 15 people. Others are off snorkeling or checking out Man of War Island. Chief Officer Jessica Tyson, one of the most senior women in the biz, is ferrying people over to the island, a bird sanctuary, to spy on the great frigates. The island is thick with brown boobies and mating frigates. The male frigate’s come-on is a puffed-up red balloon-like neck sack. None too coyly, the female frigates look each fellow over, taking note of his balloon and nesting spot.

I note that the Wind Star has her sports platform out. It’s a dock lowered from the stern from which a small fleet of water toys are launched. Kayakers, windsurfers, water-skiers and batty banana boaters abound. That leaves just me to wander the Caye. While gathering travel-size pumice stones, I meet Pedro, one of the Caye’s few residents. He’s from El Salvador and has a 26-year-old son in Houston. Pedro’s job is to fill the Caye’s mangrove swamp with sand for the Caye’s owners to build a few tourist cabins.

Yesterday, sixteen of us went scuba diving off one of the Bay Islands of Honduras, the bigger and more populated Roatan. Zinged there by zodiac, we docked at Anthony’s Key Resort to dive in their marine reserve. Anthony’s started protecting these waters years before the Marine Reserve was established. The reef flaunts its safe haven with healthy corals and swarms of fish.

During our sail down to Honduras, the Windstar’s dive instructors checked-out the certified divers, gave the beginners a "Discover Scuba" course and outfitted all those in need. We were ready to hit the dive boats as soon as we docked at Anthony’s. The program for experienced divers started yesterday in these same waters and ends five dives later drifting along Cozumel’s reef. The beginners have their own three dives for a scuba initiation through abundant corals and among enchanting fish.

First, there’s the leap off the boat, the cold-water splashdown and the thrill of capturing my first breath underwater. Then, weightless, I float over the self-described fan, star and brain corals. I make faces at the curious big-lipped groupers and follow an iridescent-peacock-blue tang past a bright orange sponge. I watch a turquoise-salmon-saffron-jade parrotfish eat some fat fungus coral and stay very still in wait for a tiny white feather-duster worm to come back out of its shell. In no time, an hour passes and its time to surface, climb back onto Anthony’s dive boat and head for lunch.

The Wind Star threw a beach-barbecue blast on the other side of the island and entertained us by strutting her stuff. Up the computer-controlled sails went, gliding two hundred feet up the masts in just two minutes. Caught by the wind, the sleek white Wind Star cut through the aqua-green Caribbean, trailing ruffles of silver spume.

Today, however, it’s tea time. So, I catch the next zodiac back to the ship where tea is being served by the micro pool. Wind Star’s afternoon tea is not a white-gloved but a help-yourself affair. There’s iced tea and chocolate chip cookies as well as hot tea and cakes. Afterwards, I hit the library which has precious few books, but a great video collection—every cabin has its own VCR.

My cabin is near the gym, a convenience lost on me, because at a comfortable 188 square feet there’s enough space for me to do my yoga in "suite." It boasts two closets, two upholstered chairs, two portholes, two single or one queen bed. It’s cabinets morph into a dining table, a desk and a vanity. There’s a vigorous shower in the teak-floored bathroom and cushy robes. I settle in for a read about Copan, the Maya ruins we saw our first day in Honduras. Two hundred thousand people who once lived in Copan with its intricately carved hieroglyphic stairway and its full-scale replica of a temple in the original burnt-orange and jade-green color. I snooze off, however, in the middle of an explanation of the Mayan’s complex calendars.

Awakening just in time for the evening’s events, I toss on a tropical caftan and dangly earrings hoping to attain the "casually elegant" look described in Windstar’s brochure. Gathering with new friends around the six-seater bar, we dip into the "sushi bar" appetizers. The Wind Star has no assigned dinner tables or times, so we drift into dinner when we feel like it. Tonight’s hot topic is tomorrow’s excursion to and through the rain forest—by bus, by foot and by inner-tube.

After a last sip of espresso, one couple heads for the show and another for the two-table-plus-slots casino, but I head for the bow. There’s a teak deck right in front of the Bridge that is always dark, I expect it helps the Captain see where we’re headed. Often deserted, it’s my secret nighttime lookout. Above me the sails are flush with wind and the rigging tinkles softly against the mast. Watching for shooting stars, I lean against the rail and think, "this is the way to go" …and you better Belize it.

By Kate Crawford         June  2002

LINKS WITH ATTITUDE

Here is Windstar Cruises website. 

Anthony's Key Resort in Belize was great for scuba.