A Flash of Red

The engines of the Boeing 737 roared as it picked up speed going down a runway at Houston International Airport. The nose rose, and soon the suburbs quickly shrank away. As we neared cruising altitude, the land disappeared entirely, replaced by the azure waters of the Caribbean Sea. After a while we changed seats so both of us could have a turn gawking.

The Caribbean Sea gave way to the Belizean mainland, and soon we could hear the landing wheels emerging, and the screeching sound of rubber on concrete. We soon were at the gate of a well-worn modern airport in serious need of updates and upgrades.

Next, we walked out onto the tarmac and saw our next airplane with Maya Airways. We approached and asked if this was the airplane going to Placencia. The uniformed person on the ground nodded, smiling. He ushered us up the steps, into the airplane. The pilot greeted us personally, saying, “Welcome! Take any seat and store your luggage anywhere at the back of the plane.” We were the first two aboard, so we chose the first two seats, and I let my wife, Susan, sit at the window. Two other couples, around our ages, followed suit. Then last, came another uniformed Maya employee, who sat behind the rest of us. Being fully loaded, the pilot said we would take off immediately. None of us complained about an earlier departure, because we were all anxious to get to our destinations.

In the air, we got a beautiful view of the Caribbean Sea. Then something happened that we did not expect. We made a landing roughly halfway to our destination. The other employee exited, and the pilot told us that he was done with his shift and was getting dropped off at his hometown.

I turned to Susan and said, "We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto." Susan chuckled.

When we took off again, the wheels got off the ground shortly before they got wet in the Caribbean. Susan asked, “Are you okay, Michael? You look pale and nervous.”

I consciously loosened my grip on the armrest and took her hand. “Sorry my palms are clammy. I’ll be fine when we get there.”

She smiled reassuringly and patted my hand. “You never have been a confident flyer.”

We landed in Placencia with only mild turbulence along the way. All of us passengers retrieved our luggage and exited the plane.

Parked on the tarmac was a small bus with our tour company's logo on the side. We were greeted warmly by the driver. He took our bags and stowed them in the back of the bus. We departed down the dirt road without delay, headed toward our bamboo cabana on the beach.

Our first order of business was to ditch our luggage under the raised, thatched cabana and go to the only tavern in the tiny town. We got two Kalik beers and toasted the adventures awaiting us that week. The waitress told us that the word “Kalik” was for the sound of woman pounding conch patties to tenderize them.

After returning to the cabana, we spent a pleasant evening together, anticipating the fun of the upcoming days. Our travel agent in Miami was from Belize, and she arranged several exciting activities for us.

The second day, we went snorkeling along the second largest coral reef in the world. We took breaks to enjoy the great food offered locally.

The third day, our agenda was to go boating on the Monkey River. As we cruised along, there were plenty of crocodiles on the banks. To our surprise, our guide stopped the boat and threw out an anchor and proceeded to jump out onto a sandbar in the middle of the river. With crocodiles around the corner, Susan and I were reluctant to join, but he kept waving to us and said it was safe, so we relented. Soon, we were in knee-deep water on the sandbar. We heard echoing sounds of different types of animals calling out. The guide named them all. The howler monkeys demonstrated that their name was well-deserved. Then, we heard one particularly discordant bird call. With a scrunched face, I asked the guide, “What the heck was that?”

He said, “Scahlet Meekaw.” (Scarlet Macaw.) Sure enough, we saw a red flash of bright feathers through the trees, and the bird disappeared into the jungle. We both gasped at what a striking contrast its vibrant, red plumage was against the green backdrop. We experienced many great sights, sounds and tastes throughout our week in Beliz, but the macaw was our favorite. After hearing about how rare Scarlet Macaws are in the wild, we wanted to do our part. Upon returning to Miami, we began fundraising for the Belize Wildlife Clinic.

We had just one and only experience in the wild with a Scarlet Macaw, but it had left a lasting impression.