I.II.III.II – Caye Caulker (Again): Day Two
CAYE CAULKER (AGAIN)
I.II.III.II – DAY TWO
19/09/22
By that time, most of the stuff I wanted to see and do had already been checked off. Being the over-planner that I am, my itinerary always has an ‘extras’ section which contains a list of activities or places to visit if time and money allow. Being here for a few additional days meant I could do even more of that.
First off, it would be water sports. Much like scuba diving, Malta is known as one of the hotspots for water sports – yet I had never tried my hand at anything of the sort. As a kid, I’d watch Blue Water High on TV and marvel at their amazing surfing skills hoping that one day I might be able to do something similar. Although we don’t have huge waves in Malta, there are still some savants who rush to the Maltese seas when the surf’s up. And it’ not just surfing our seas are known for. From parasailing to windsurfing, from sailing to kayaking, we kind do it all. And of course by ‘we’ I mean anyone but me. Much as I love the sea, these sorts of things weren’t for me.
You see, I was always bad at sports. My balance is terrible, my coordination is even worse, and I never really got the point. That’s what I’d tell myself. But over the past few years that too changed. I started working out and I realised I don’t quite suck when it comes to table tennis and tennis. I’ve also been told I’m a decent defender in soccer. Which is already better than hopeless. And so, half the planet away on a random island in Belize, I thought I’d finally give water sports a go.
I decided stand-up paddleboarding (SUP) would be a good introduction; perhaps a good way to improve my balance – my worst nemesis! And lemme tell you, I had been right all along. My balance was terrible. As I pushed the board into the water and swam towards it, I had the hardest time trying to get on top of it. When I finally did, it took me ages to stand up; my knees shaking all the while. Not a second sooner than I had left the shore did I tumble helplessly into the water.
But I’d sworn I’d try until I could at least balance myself. Get on the board, stand up, lose balance, fall. That’s how it went for a full fifteen minutes, with Roy cheering me on and laughing his ass off from the comfort of the pier in the meantime. But the more I did it, the longer I seemed to be able to balance on top of it. And finally, I could actually do it. I was actually paddleboarding! I could even control my direction – something I genuinely thought would be way above my level. I found it hard to go against the current, but even that didn’t stop me. I won’t say I mastered it, but I can totally claim that by the end of the hour, I was actually quite decent at it. Not decent enough to be able to surf on the board itself, but enough to stand afloat on calm waters.
More adventures...
Next up was windsurfing. Turns out, it’s quite an expensive hobby to take up. But less so if you do it in pairs, and so, I dragged Becca along with me for a two-hour lesson.
According to our instructor Lou, it’d be easy. Just get up on the board, steady yourself, pull the sail up from the water, position your hands this way, move your feet that way, do this, do that, and a million other steps and we’d be good to go. She told us the most important thing is to learn how to fall properly; a skill I would surely need. After that, we’d go over turning and then putting everything together. In just two hours, we were meant to pick up the skill.
And so, fully trained (in theory) we got in the water – we’d start off in the shallow part and then move on to the deep part after the basics would be covered. She gave us a demonstration and then signaled us to follow her cue. From the very start, I had trouble getting on the board. Then I went into neutral position; placing my legs just as she had shown us, my knees shaking like a leaf. But that part I had kinda gotten down when I practiced paddleboarding. Then I got to pull the sail from the water. Little did she mention that it’s heavier than a friggin’ hippopotamus. I couldn’t possibly fathom how such a skinny, slim girl could possibly lift such a thing so effortlessly. I leaned back as she instructed, using my body weight to pull the entire thing. It was much easier that way, true, but it was so easy to pull that it sent me flying right into the sea. So much for the proper falling technique, huh? I tried this over and over whilst Becca was practicing the second skillset. I felt disheartened, and most of all, worn out. Getting back up on the board and balancing is tiresome on its own – having to lift the sail over and over proved to be exhausting.
After what felt like two decades of steady practice, I was finally able to move on to the actual first step; falling properly. When you feel as if you’re about to fall, you stand aside, push the sail in the other direction and gently step into the water – simple. Well, it is in principle, but somehow, I managed to screw that up too. Lou would give me the most pitiful of smiles – the same smile I’d give to a relative whose patient has just died, and then, hold out her hand in order to rub off some ‘windsurfing magic’. Spoiler alert, it didn’t help much, but perhaps it helped just enough, as somehow, I mastered the falling part and moved on to turning.
In theory, this seemed simple enough. If the north side of the board is facing to the left, then you should turn the sail right and vice versa. This would prompt the board to propel itself to the opposite side it’s facing. But, in order to do this, you’d have to shift the front leg to the other side, with both legs behind the sail, and going back into neutral position once you’ve turned. I had mastered the previous part, so I was dead set on mastering this one too. Took me a while, but eventually, I could do a couple of full turns without falling. By this time Becca was already mastering the third and final part. This meant getting to neutral position and then shifting both hands to one side of the sail, and then position your legs with the dominant facing forward and the other facing the land. After falling a couple of hundred times more, usually incorrectly as my brain-body connection is too slow to actually go through the steps whilst I’m already in the process of falling, I got the go ahead from Lou to move on to deeper waters.
Deeper water meant choppier waves. It seemed that the hour and a half I had spent practicing were all in vain. I was back to square one. By the end of the lesson, I windsurfed as far as three metres – not an accomplishment in and of itself, but at least I managed to do three! I couldn’t afford to do more lessons but surely, it’s something I am more than willing to learn.
In fact, this was the first I felt like I’d be excited at the prospect of going back to Malta at the end of my journey. Once there, I could do all the scuba and water sports I’d want to do!