Pirate: Jasper, Photographer: Tim Boffe.
I hear a lot of ‘YARR!’ around me. Lots of excited voices. Rum flowing. Pirates jumping in the water. We might not be on a raft, as building one for 15 people seemed a bit too much of a hassle for us pirates. Fortunately the motorboat we embarked upon serves as a fine ship. Yes we are the pirates of Caye Caulker.
Life here exists of swimming and fishing at the Split, reading the rum diary, cooking fish and going on pirate missions. An island where rum is cheaper than beer, where stoked backpackers from all over the world need to share their abundance of energy and where the sun always shines.
We’ve been here for a week now, and even though I’m getting burned out of my tent at seven in the morning and only crawl back into my nest when all the pirate adventures are finished, it’s seems like there are never enough hours in a day. Yesterday we spent sunset and some evening darkness in a canoe, fishing and enjoying the peacefulness of the vast ocean with only a few unreal islands covered by palm trees. Tomorrow we will discover the land and what is to be found between the crabs, docks and hammocks.
Life on an island can’t be explained without experiencing it. There is no stress to be found, definitely not by the rasta locals, walking around the island with a big smile, selling their catch of the day and looking for pirates to share their stories with. We don’t look at our watches. We live according to the moon and the change of the tides. We live to the fullest because that’s what we want to do, not because anything or anyone is steering us.
Here on this island we all became pirates, eaten by sand flees and mosquitoes, nurtured by rum and steered around the island using the current of the Caribbean ocean.