Spring Break Belize, Day 4

On day 4, a Thursday, Brian, Andy, Beata and I hired the services of a local fishing guide named Bernard for a half-day fishing trip. After renting two fishing poles and grabbing some "world famous" cinnamon buns for breakfast, we met up with Bernard and his small boat at the dock right in front of our hotel. How convenient.

Good buns:


In my limited ocean-fishing experience, it is customary to procure live bait at the dock. But that's not how they do it in Belize. Armed with his trusty gill net, Bernard stalked and ultimately captured an entire school of sardines right where we had been kayaking the day before. See the master at work here:



After wowing us with his net-casting skills, Bernard piloted us out to his fishing spot off the west side of Caye Caulker, which was clearly marked with a two-pronged stick lodged in the ocean's floor. Problem is, Bernard's two-pronged stick looks identical to the two-pronged sticks used by every other fisherman on the island. Thankfully, rather than spend all morning searching for "his" proper spot, we anchored off of what he believed was a rival's fishing stick. Since all fisherman are rivals of one another, this made Bernard understandly nervous. Honestly though, I don't think any guy who competed in a 4-day canoeing competition with a dislocated shoulder could really be all that worried.

Soon, fish, specifically snapper, were jumping into our boat like hotcakes (does that analogy even work in this context?).

This continued for an hour or so, and then we trolled for barracuda around the flats. Other than a few bites that resulted in broken line and a lost lure, we had no luck. Not to be deterred, we moved over to the reef to try our hand at more snapper. This second location produced more than just snapper - in fact, at one point while I was reeling in a yellowtail snapper, a barracuda struck my fish like a missile, nearly cleaving it in half.

Snapper split like Caye Caulker:


Adrenalized by this activity, and with the barracuda hanging out just under our boat, the team, at Bernard's behest, strived mightily to catch a live fish for barracuda bait. Unfortunately for us and fortunately for the barracuda, try as we might, we couldn't land a fish of the desired size (it has to be small enough so that two hooks can be staggered a few inches apart). And with that crushing defeat, our fishing day ended.

Our haul for the (half) day:


That night, we celebrated our catch, which we graciously donated to Bernard for putting up with Brian's fishing "technique" or lack thereof, at this bar called I&I's, otherwise known as the "treehouse." Picture a multi-story, brightly colored building in the middle of an island paradise, topped with an open-air third floor, filled with hammocks to lay in, planks to walk, and swings to drink on, and you've got a basic idea of what makes the treehouse so great.

The so-called "monkey walk" - to a law student this looks more like "liability":


As Brian demonstrates, you can't help but lounge at I&I's:


If there is one clear message that Belize instilled in me, it's that a treehouse bar is needed in EVERY city. That is, as long as the city's climate is tropical, local law requires the music played to be reggae, and the only beer available is Belikin.

Spring Break Belize, Day 3

On day three, with the girls off on an all-day Mayan ruin tour, Brian, Andy and I had an opportunity to indulge in more testosterone-heavy activities. Naturally, we decided to go crocodile hunting. Actually, that's not true - kayaking was the activity of choice, it just so happens that our chosen kayaking route led us right through the territory of saltwater crocodiles. Of course, we were unaware of this and so, like idiots, we putted around for hours in our kayaks oblivious to (and literally right on top of) the threat.

Crocodile appetizers:


Because we didn't actually bump into any crocs and my wildlife obsession remained unsatisfied, I convinced the other guys to stop off on the northern half of Caye Caulker (remember, it's split in twain) to search for more reptiles - this time, iguanas. We did manage to find some iguana tails sticking out of holes, but other than that, the expedition was rather unsuccessful. Well, unsuccessful from my point of view - Andy and Brian did "find" each other:



While on the other side, we should've picked up lunch:



On the way back to Caye Caulker proper, the wind intensified, leading to a 30-minute uphill battle of brawn and paddling techinque. Certain that a momentary lapse of effort would result in being sent adrift into the vast expanses of the ocean - and even more certain that the two other guys wouldn't have initiated a rescue - we each doggedly piloted our kayaks into the wind, over the waves, and back to their final resting place in front of our hotel.

Our chariots:


As Ice Cube would say, "It was a good day."

Oh, blessed food - carnitas taco to be exact. In this world of constant suffering you are my only salvation.  

Stressed out already

With finals just around the corner, stress has begun its assault on my mind and body in earnest. It's a terrible feeling to be constantly under attack by thoughts of the massive amounts of work that are required for success here. To make matters worse, sleep offers no sanctuary, because some nightmare about making the fatal mistake that torpedoes your legal career is always lurking around the corner. Even during periods of leisure - which are a scarce commidty in these trying times - I inevitably find my mind wandering to a mental checklist of what must be accomplished before the days of reckoning arrive. Not infrequently, I fantasize about somehow eliminating the constant barrage of worries that wrack my brain. But then I realize that it's precisely that worry (some call it "work ethic") that got me here in the first place, so blissful ignorance might not be such a bright idea. Thwarted, I then try to rationalize the situation in terms of the inconceivable hardships that others must be facing at these very moments to at least reduce the magnitude of the strain. This too is futile, however, because no matter what mental gymnastics I attempt, convincing my stubborn mind to ignore 8-hours of Crim Law final turns out to be a Herculean task that I'm not equipped to complete.

--------

On a lighter note, here's a miscellaneous link. HEADLINE: Ultimate Warrior's minions threaten to sue satirical website, SomethingAwful.com. If you're bored, read this exchange between the administrator of the website and the wrestler-slash-lawyer who is defending the honor of the washed-up warrior. In my current state, I found it hilarious (that's a disclaimer).

http://www.somethingawful.com/articles.php?a=2790

Spring Break Belize, Day 2

Woke up bright and early again, and after a quick bite to eat at Herbal Tribe, we sign up for a snorkeling tour with Ragamuffin. What distinguishes Ragamuffin's tours from the others (of which there are many) is that instead of a power boat operating as your transportation for the day, you spend the entire day on a sailboat, which moves at a more leisurely pace and produces significantly less noise.

Delicious hot sauce at Herbal Tribe:


Ragamuffin tours storefront:


Following about an hour of sailing, we reach our first stop on the reef, suspiciously referred to as the "Mystery Spot". According to our guides, this is because "you never know what you are going to see." When translated from Belizean to English, that phrase means we stop here because the tourists are tired, not because its got a lot of amazing wildlife. This turned out to be true on both counts.

While the "Mystery Spot" failed to deliver much in the way of fauna, the second stop, fittingly called Shark and Ray Alley, was more than adequate. Like Pavlov's dogs, numerous stingrays, a school of jacks, and a nurse shark or two responded to the sound of our engine and gathered below the boat as we pulled in.

Stingrays at the Alley


Shark at the Alley


Here, I even got the chance to swim with a fairly large Green Hawksbill sea turtle, which unbeknownst to me had attacked a woman just seconds before I stumbled upon it. According to our guides, these reptiles are aggressive and known to bite without provocation. Good thing I found this out after I chased it for 5 minutes.

Turtle deciding whether to bite the annoying mammal:


The final stop on our Ragamuffin sailing tour was at the Hol Chan marine preserve. Thanks to the protection of the sole ranger who was sleeping in his parked boat, the fish here were plentiful and coral was fantastic to behold. At this point in the reef, there is a channel about 30-ft deep. As we were swimming over the channel, a huge 4-ft barracuda glided by underneath us. Because of my upbringing as a wanna-be zoologist, I'd left all my shiny bracelets at home, so it didn't come after me.

See fish here:


The guides provided rum punch on the way back, and it led to some pretty ridiculous pictures. No, the boat is not tipping over (as you can tell by looking at all the sober people).

Drunken behavior:

Trovata

Late last night, right before I'm about to go to sleep, I get an IM from Joe Curley*, my fraternity brother from Pomona, who currently works as a sports writer in Ventura.

*Trust me when I say you have not met a bigger fan of sports than ol' Joe - he knows the statistics for every player, playing in every league of every sport in the entire world backwards and forwards. One obsession of his during college was this soccer game entitled "Championship Manager" where you act, not as player, but as coach, making trades to maximize your team's success, and the soccer matches are played out in text, rather than graphics. It is the virtual world equivalent of watching paint dry, though admittedly less colorful. And that's just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to his sports-related lunacy.

So, as is the custom, we get to chatting and I inquire about what a few of our mutual friends have been up to since the halcyon days of college. Before long, I get to Josia, a Stanford transfer student who spent some of his days partying and playing video games with us. Last I knew, he was living near school awaiting the graduation of his girlfriend. He seemed to have no concrete ideas about what to do next; for the most part, skateboarding occupied his time. When prompted by questions as to Josia's whereabouts, Joe replies "You haven't heard?" and, after a few seconds of brain-numbing suspense, he passes on a link to a Rolling Stone article.

At this point, my interest is piqued, but I had no idea what was in store for me. Clicking on the link, I am shocked to see that Josia and some friends, including a former CMC student started a very successful fasion line called Trovata (www.trovata.com), which is currently being shown all over the world and is sold at only the most upscale boutiques, including Barney's of New York. According to the article, Josia is the development director, whatever that means.

What excites me most about their clothing line is the brilliant marketing plan - rather than just have some models on a runway show off their newest collection, the gang creates characters that would wear the clothes and a story to bring those characters to life. For example, they debuted their fall line during Fashion Week in NYC at a posh mansion and had the models playing a mock game of croquet to represent the aristocratic family which had fallen from grace that the clothing line was based on.

Thanks to the fact that each one looks like he should be on the OC and their work-while-playing attitudes, Josia et al. have become press darlings. Thus far, they've appeared in Elle, GQ, Vogue just to name a few. Here's the Rolling Stone article, if you're interested (Josia is on the far right):

Trovata Style surfers

You Know Them From The moment its first collection of prepster-meets-surfer-dude casual clothes was shipped out of design director John Whitledge's dorm room at Claremont McKenna College in 2002, this label, run by four school buds (Whitledge, Sam Shipley, Josia Lamberto-Egan, Jeff Halmos), has become one of the hippest in the menswear business.

The Breakthrough Trovata recently introduced its first line for women, and the quartet won accolades for its first New York Fashion Week appearance. "Manhattan was overwhelming," says Whitledge. That's why the guys -- all twenty-seven or younger and avid surfers -- do their thing in Newport Beach, California, where their offices are not coincidentally located just two blocks from the water.

Endless Summer "We all grew up working in board-sport stores," says company art director Shipley. "We were dreaming of doing clothing lines while still in high school."

Hang Size Ten Look out for Trovata-designed limited-edition Vans, packaged in vintage cigar boxes, to hit select stores in the fall.