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 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.
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 The mouth of the cave, swooped across by the occasional swallow, receded until it was just a light at the end of the tunnel. We’d become a flotilla of small lights scattered across a shiny black river and lead by a swimming black dog. Floating along, our headlamps pick up stalactites forming, drip by drip, off the ceiling. Every so often, a huge tree root had broken through and was heading for water. We ahhhh, but talk little. There was something awe-inspiring about flowing through a cathedral-sized cavern.
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 Actually, the starboard avalanche of shrimp, lobster and crab on ice is the banquet’s beginning, but the line forms port by the desserts. Athwart the seafood, a whole table of fresh-baked breads beckons with butter from France. If I stop right here - a piece of key lime pie, a pile of shellfish and some of that warm bread and butter - I’ll be home free or at least ready to jive with the hip band that’s revving up. However, a smell that’s bewitched me all afternoon draws me over to the whole roast pig. On the way, BBQ ribs and corn on the cob jumped onto my plate alongside more bread. A little chocolate éclair, an espresso and oh my. Cancel the disco.
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