My new group seemed quite a jovial bunch. Nobody could believe that this was already the last phase and everybody seemed keen to make the most of it. We got to Hillbank in record time, 10am. The PFB had still not retrieved our kit from Irish Creek so we decided to stuff them and trek up there ourselves. We quickly got rations sorted, rucksacks packed and trekked off. It was the hottest part of the day and progress was slow. A few folk still had hangovers from the night before. We got there at the back of 3pm, set up bashers and camp and had tea just as it was getting dark. Not bad for the first day. Kind of strange for me though. This was the fourth time I was setting my basher up at Irish Creek. Have used the same spot the whole time and it's my favourite compared to Hillbank.
Everybody was knackered so we had a quickish meeting then off to bed.
It was one of these days when you had just to sit back and let things happen. The "old man" was out working on his field when we got there and there was no petrol or oil for the boat. Somehow, a few hours later we were heading on our way to the ruins with the "old man" in a piece of metal they called a boat. There was one driver and four bailers. Just as well we had brought life jackets!
We got there without sinking and showed them the largest ruin and it was the one the "old man" was talking about. So, after all that, we had found nothing new. Not for long!
On the way back we took a different route and we stumbled across two 40ft+ mounds. Quite amazing. There were only about 20ft apart but at just a little distance away, they were completely invisible. On closer inspection it was apparent we weren't the first. There was a tunnel going into one of the mounds probably dug by looters. It was big enough to walk into so in true "Indiana Jones" style we entered, the only light being a small cigarette lighter. The walls were damp. There were about 6" holes in the side. One didn't want to think about what was in them. A spider? A snake? Some huge spear thing like in the film? Then panic! A piece of the roof came down at the entrance. That was enough for a few of them and they raced out. It crossed my mind as well! But I was at the front holding the lighter and didn't have an option. We hit the end. There was nothing there. No hesitation in heading back with quick movements past the holes in the wall. Was quite glad to see daylight again.
After all that excitement time was getting on. We left our friends from San Carlos and headed back to camp with some stories to tell the rest.
We did a more thorough search of the area and counted 16 mounds ranging from 5ft to our biggies at 40ft. It was a tiring day. After the excitement of the "Tunnel of Doom", discovereing yet another 5ft mound gets a bit boring. We had a long lunch. The bread we had must have had a secret ingredient because we all nodded off. What were the cooks up to the previous day?
We then tried to follow the "mound map" we had drawn the previous day but had difficulty. However we ended up finding even more 5-15ft mounds. Starting to loose count of them now. There must have been a serious settlement here one day. We eventually came to the conclusion that we should leave the searching to people who knew what they were doing, i.e., archeologists, and after another long lunch headed back.
At night we decided we had done all we could on mapping the mounds and should pass on the information to PFB.
Whilst that was going on (somehow I managed to miss out on all research plot work this phase!), I took a group down the Ramgoat Creek trail. All was well there and making good progress until we ran into a bunch of peceries (wild pigs). That had us running in the wrong direction for a bit but we chanced our luck and they seemed to have also ran away.
The group seemed to have taken to the Hillbank camp and especially the old car seat. It's weird the some of the things you miss, like a cumfy seat.
We hit the old trail again and stomped along at a good pace. One of the vs was finding it too much so we had to stop. No sign of the other group so it was looking like the best way to do it would be with an overnight stop. We got back to the start and luckily a landrover turned up just as we hit the road. So back to Hillbank and a welcome swim in the lagoon.
After a long meeting, it was decided by a majority that we should attempt the whole Ramgoat Creek trail with an overnight stop. It was Sudipa's 21st on Wednesday so it would be a good incentive to get back, i.e., beers.
The PFB looked rather concerned as we headed off. We were a 40min landrover ride from Hillbank so getting back there in two days through thick jungle was a bit ambitious. However, we were sure we had already cut a trail most of the way with just a little bit in the middle to finish.
Anyway, the fearless trekkers headed off. I was at the front and we had only been going for about 20mins when a large, black cat whizzed across the path right in front of me. It was a Puma and I was chuffed to bits to have seen it. Still waiting to see my first Jaguar though.
We got to the end of our cut trail but could still pick up on the the old trail so things were looking good. Then it ran out and progress was very slow. Time was getting on so we had to make our way to the creek for water. However, the creek was now a smelly bog. Things were starting to look grim.
We dug a hole and let it fill with water, then started filtering it. It stank something awfull and the prospect of drinking the stuff was very non-appealing. Then we got lucky. It started raining big style. By using the tarps we collected 50 litres in no time. The only thing was that one of the 25 litre containers had bog water in it before the nice fresh rainwaiter was put in. It had stopped raining so we couldn't chuck it. Bummer!
We got back into the jungle and set up a camp. It was getting dark quick, it started raining again, we had bog water for tea, and we were no longer sure if we could make it through to the adjoining trail the next day. Some people's sleeping bags were wet, some (including me) had brought no extra set of dry clothes and we were all soaking wet. We also had no extra food and if we didn't make it out the next day, it was one packet of biscuits each and some rice for the whole day. Real character building stuff. I love it!
All in all spirits were high. Most people had expected this sort of stuff on Raleigh and were revelling in it. Some weren't!
Unbelievably, in the thick jungle, with a storm, we still had good comms with FB. As luck would have it, Jason wanted to speak to all PMs at 19:30. Not the night for a chit chat on the radio. All the PMs except two called in. If only they could see what sort of situation I was in. After that and a very welcome brew I retired to my basher, fingers crossed that there wasn't a puddle in the middle of it. I had made doubly sure it wasn't leaking but it was really chucking it down and one couldn't be sure.
Success! No puddle. I could hear others having not so much luck. Having a wet basher would be a really testing affair. The routine in this sort of situation was to get in, wait a bit, see if any leaks had developed, then if all clear, get Mr. Dry Sleeping Bag out of it's canoe bag. That was one thing that you don't want wet. You can be wet all day, but at night you really need to get into a dry sleeping bag and basher. I had a small problem with a leak but after doing a sneaky adjustement, without even getting out of my basher, it was sorted. After talcoming my feet to avois foot rot and tending to a few other bites and cuts, it was into my nice, dry, warm sleeping bag.
In the morning, morale was still high although some people had knackered bashers and were up all night. The porridge never tasted nicer and then we had to decide what to do. Two options. One was to turn back and hope we could get a lift back to Hillbank. The other was to carry on, possibly spending another night in the jungle with little food. We decided to go on. Turning back was a bit defeatest.
After 2 hours of chopping on a compass bearing some people were starting to flex a little. I could see in people's faces that they weren't happy although they were saying they were. Then there were joyous screams from the front. We had hit the trail from Hillbank. All was saved and we would be back within a few hours. There was a sudden change of morale and lots of relieved, happy faces. Group photos were taken and we scoffed the biscuits we had been saving.
Back at Hillbank the secret Birthday cake for Sudipa was being made by the PFB cook. Along with some cold beers, some decent music - Scorpions, Guns & Roses - a great party was had. This group were much maturer than my previous and gladly I didn't have to play nurse maid all night. A chance to rock!
The rest of the day was spent chilling out at our hut and we had a quiz game at night. My questions were, "Who won the Battle of Bannockburn?" and "Who won the Five Nations in 1990?". Both of the answers being Scotland of course! Nobody guessed.
Things were a little up in the air regarding the PFB transport to take us 30kms to the trek starting point. We went to bed not 100% sure if we would actually be starting the day later or not.
We got to our starting point which was on a 300ft escarpment. It doesn't sound much but in an area as flat as Hillbank, it was a monster. I had tried explaining to the PFB rangers that in Scotland we normally climb hills that are 3000ft but they couldn't get their heads around it.
We weren't following any trails and were hoping we could cut through about 10kms a day. The idea was the jungle at the top of the escarpment would be high forest and we could just walk through it. That seemed to be the case for the first hour but after that it got a lot slower, and more slower. We averaged 1km/hr and got 4kms. Not too disheartened, we called it a day and headed off to find water and set up camp. One of the vs, Mark, was feeling a bit funny but nothing serious. Our route followed a creek for most of the way and it was our only water source. Lucky for us, it was bearing water and we didn't have to start digging holes or sucking water out of vines.
Our camp was in a beautiful spot and at night we watched in amazement as large green fire flies buzzed through the jungle chasing each other.
It was getting nearly dark and just as were starting to make a jungle camp, the sound of a landrover was heard. It arrived in the opposite direction of what we expected, which explained why it had taken so long, and it could only take three people. Things on the radio had got confused!
So we continued with jungle camp. Mark and two others left, and the rest of us were going to trek back out tomorrow and be picked up by the PFB. Only thing was that it could be late afternoon until before this was possible.
Spirits were still high and at night we exchanged stories about some of the stupid things we have done in the past. I won!
The rainy season had hit Belize early. We were now getting heavy showers throughout the day and at night. The jungle has an early warning system for rain - you hear it coming! The noise of the rain battering of the leaves is so loud, you hear a distant drone that gets louder and louder, then wham, you get hit. Although it doesn't matter if you get wet (one is normally wet with sweat anyway), you're instinct is to still run for cover. Normally this is quickly putting up a poncho or tarp and standing underneath until it clears. An alternative is using cahoon palm leaves which are enourmous and totally rain-proof if you criss-cross them in the right way.
At night the group was a little down. We had went from 100mph to a standstill. It was a real shame the 6-day trek fell though but it was just one of those things.
It was the group's last night in Hillbank and mines also. We had some Bacardi left over from the previous party and it was strictly rationed out along with some peanuts we had scraped up.
Our destination was Crystal Creek. We should have reached there on day 5 of our six day trek. We were getting dropped off only about 2kms from there but it was going to involve trail cutting.
On the way there we stopped at San Felipe and bought the shop out of Snickers and Cokes. Snickers is the only chocolate bar they seem to have in Belize. Some people bought six of them. I settled for a couple.
After yet again watching PFB landrovers disappear leaving us in the middle of nowhere, it was machettes out and time to start chopping. Everybody believed the PFB guys that it would be an "easy day" but I had grown wise to their advice. I didn't say anything to the group though. Today I was taking a 100% back seat and letting them figure it out for themselves. On the last treks I had to step in a few times.
Because we were following a river, the vegetation was swampy and after a couple of hours we could still hear vehicles from the road. The group decided that it would be faster rafting up the river as it was very slow moving. It was a chance to try out one of the things they had learned from jungle camp for real.
Raft construction was suddenly halted when Sudipa screamed out. There was something biting her. Then everybody realised, it was a swarm of bees. We must have disturbed their nest and they were not happy. Everybody was being bitten and it was bloody sore. Panic was about to set in. I got everybody to stay calm, quiet and head to the river. We got there and laid down. The bees stopped biting but they were still buzzing around. If they started biting again the next step was into the river. Sudipa had been bitten a few times and was pretty upset. A few others were as well. The bees slowly went away. We waited a good 10mins to make sure before moving around again. Phew! Scary stuff!
After that I suggested making 2-man poncho rafts which didn't neccessitate the chopping down of any trees and went back to my "back seat" mode. Soon we had 7 poncho rafts ready for launching. In they went, followed by 14 mad people, and they all floated! It was great fun. The only problem was the slow moving river wasn't that slow moving and we were having a problem staying still let alone going upstream. Nevertheless we bashed on but after half an hour the group realised that they were making slower progress than on land. Perhaps somebody should have checked the river berforehand?
Now all our kit was soaking. Our attempts to waterproof everything was in vain. Even canoe bags let in a bit of water. I was worried about this thing here, my Palmtop PC, but it was fine. Just about everything else was soaked though.
So now, with extra heavy rucksacks due to them being soaking, it was back to trail cutting. The progress was slow. We had wasted a lot of time doing the rafting and there was no way we were going to reach Crystal Creek. So much for the "easy day"! We had been cutting about for an hour and a half when a meeting was called. After much debate it was decided to stop, get water ans set up camp. It only took us 14mins to walk back what had taken us 90 mins to cut.
Putting up a basher when everything is soaked is depressing. Actually getting into it is the pits. My sleeping bag was damp bordering on soggy. I had some dry clothes but there was no point putting them on as it was still raining. It was quite warm so the best ploy was to sleep almost naked. Just as well I had no holes in my mossie net!
The previous night a cunning, determined plan was drawn up to get us to Crystal Creek as fast as possible. We were going to do the cutting in rotating shifts. It worked well but it still took us until noon to reach it. However, the fun had just started.
The next task was to find the PFB boundary line that supposedly ran from Crystal Creek right to Las Milpas, our destination. We had planned a whole day for the boundary line but it was only 8kms with a 200m rise so we should be able to do it in about 3hrs. That's all very well if you can find it.
I was still taking a back seat and the group was beginning to realise that I had no "magic wand" to make the boundary line suddenly appear in front of us. The had got mixed stories about where the boundary line started and between them, using the map and wandering up and down the banks, we lost a couple of hours. Oh dear! It looked we were spending another night in the jungle. Just to cap it all, it started pouring down again.
I suggested trying comms to PFB to ascertain where it started and luckily we got through. The group was determined not to spend another night in the jungle as it was rumoured there were beds and showers waiting for us at Las Milpas. We confirmed that the boundary line was upstream and quickly headed off. By this time it was 3pm. We were literally only two mins away from where had based ourselves when the boundary line was spotted, on the other side of the creek! Unbelievable or what? The map readers had seriously messed up. When we arrived at Crystal Creek we immediately crossed it. It was very deep but we found a log and managed to get the rucksacks across without getting them soaked. So, here we were again, going back across the creek to where we had been three hours ago.
We got to the boudary line and sped off at a storming pace. We knew it was going to be hilly and sure enough, it was. There was no way some members of the group could keep up the pace so their kit started to be shared around the stronger members. It continued being hilly, light was fading, but our gallant map readers estimated it was only 800m to go. Then we hit a very steep hill. It was only about 50m but very steep on either side. The group was slow and by the time we got down, it was 6pm and hardly any light. Problem was there another higher, steeper hill right in front of us. The group was coping well but things were starting to get hairy. The group leader was doing well but I started taking control more.
We now needed head-torches and I knew from now on progress would be very slow. I started thinking about stopping and setting up camp. Everybody was keen to press on and make Las Milpas. On top of the bed and showers, we had also arranged for some beers to be there. There was going to be no stopping us!
It was very dodgy getting up the steep hill. Loose rocks, steep drops, dark, heavy packs, tired, all the classic ingredients for an accident. But we took it slow and carefully and got up and down the other side safely. The boundary line seemed to widen. We carried on in the dark. I was at the front checking out the terrain. There was a line of torches bobbing around behind me. Still some more hills but they were easy going. Then it went flat. I sensed we were near the end. A few minutes later I saw a light. It was the Ben, PFB, at the end of the line. Thank God for that! There were much joyous screams when we hit the road. I was just glad we were all out in one piece. It was 17:45. Better late than never though.
The rest of the night was bliss. Not only was there showers, a bed and beer, Ben had organised a meal for us all. Best appreciated meal I've ever had. By the time we had eaten, cleaned up and had a few beers it was almost midnight. It had been a long tiring day but one to be remembered.
The rest of the day was spent drying out all our wet kit and visiting some nearby ruins. At night we finished off the beers. We needed this sort of day after the last two.
Unfortunately the San Carlos people had thought we weren't coming and most had went shopping to Orange Walk Town. So, there was no rice and beans with the villagers and no football game. Bit of a shame after all the hassle getting here.
However, as in previous phases, the end of the phase meant one thing for me - report writing. Only 12 this time but I also had a post expedition report (PXR) to write. The PXR is normally done at the very end of the expedition after all the vs have left but for some reason Jason wanted them done sooner. Not that we had much to do or anything! So I enlisted the help of my medic Ratchael and we blitzed all but one by 6pm. I was chuffed to bits.
We had loads of food so we literally cooked for the whole village. Everybody seemed to like our spaghetti and curry followed by custard. Stayed up late talking about what we were going to do after the expedition. Not long now.
5th Update
Had problems again getting into Lamanai. After a few phonecalls managed to get the relevant piece of paper faxed to a nearby tourist lodge. This was good because when I was at the tourist lodge the owner invited the group up to have some drinks. I warned him that there was fourteen of us and we were all just out of the jungle and pretty smelly but the offer still stood. Great way to end the project.
At the ruins the vs toured around whilst I finished off some reports and made a feeble attempt at my PXR.
Then up to the lodge. We were hidden away at a picnic table away from all the fee-paying tourists and given the bar menu. $6 for a beer. It's $1 at FB and usually $3 elsewhere. Most of the vs were skint so we all had one each then moved to Indian Church for some cokes. A bit of a let down but we had a laugh at Indian Church.
Then that was it. The bus arrived and we headed back to lovely Camp Oakley.
The next two days were to be spent cleaning up kit. I went into FB at night to write up my PXR and also got a chance to get onto Compuserve. Just as well because it chucked it down and the group had an eventfull night with the tent. Another group had put the tent up and had put no pegs in!