Sun Jam ’99, watching the sunset

Back on land, the talk of the town is Sun Jam ’99, the “biggest party in Central America” happening tonight at Water Caye, a deserted desert island. The party is 24 hours of live disco music plus all sorts of other stuff including food and drink. There’s a boat going over there at 1pm and plenty of fishermen willing to join in the mass-migration. We are too tired to go there straight away but we manage to secure two seats in a tiny fishing boat leaving at 4pm. This gives us time to get ready and have a sleep. Diving makes you tired.
So later, with a couple of sheet sleeping bags, water, a camera, suncream and DEET, we set off on a boat to party. Not even the fishy smell of the boat can detract from the beauty of the sun setting over palm trees as we drift over the swell accompanied by the put-put-put of the small engine. There are a number of tiny cayes close together in shallow water just off the main islands, some only big enough for one house – some lucky locals. They are beautiful.

Another deserted Caye

On Water Caye there is loud reggae music and lots of people already setting up hammocks and swimming. Al and I regret again not buying some hammocks we saw in Tulum. The party mood is great and oh, so many women in bikinis! In terms of female to male ratios Al and I have consistently done well here. On the boat here, as at the diving school, we were surrounded by women. Diving, there was one male instructor, the captain, us and ten women. I keep telling Alan it’s his job to turn statistics into results, but so far no luck.
We make a base camp among the coconut trees. The island consists of only coconut palms and sand. It is 50 metres across and 500 metres long. Alysia, the girl we learned to dive with, is here along with quite a few of the others we know including two girls from Edinburgh University who studied French and Spanish. The sun is setting beautifully across the sea and we sit and watch. As one of the girls remarks, it is a moment you just have to remember: no camera can do it justice.

Arriving by boat

500 westerners have come here to enjoy a night of fun making this island their home. The sun sets here every night but we have this one chance to share it. Of course, some people have come here for other reasons: to get drunk or stoned. People who get caught with drugs here in Honduras get a choice: they can either pay $5000 US and live in a confined house on the mainland with murderers and rapists, or they can refuse to pay and go to a quarry to crack rocks and eat rice and tortillas. Bad news both ways.
The long-termers on the island used to hold secret “Full Moon” parties on Water Caye until the police cottoned on and regularly turned up. So they switched to holding “Half Moon” parties instead so the police never knew when to come. We settle into the party. There’s plenty of good barbecued food and cheap beers available. The music is pretty cool and there is a traditional Carribean drumming group who make the place feel like some tribal festival. There are also fire-jugglers and campfires. There are dancing shadows and people laughing in the night.

Entertainment

Ever present is the smell of paraffin torches which light up the paths and the palms. The atmosphere is brilliant and I just soak it up. Doug and Rich are here too, chatting up the ladies. We swim out in the clear shallow water at sunset. Later we go for a mad strobe dancing effort to the local house music. After that and a few beers the diving is telling on me so I go back to staring at the stars and chatting to a softly spoken Liverpudlian guy who teaches Spanish in the East End of London but spends all his long vacations in Central America with the locals.
As the heat gets unbearable, Al and I go for another swim. This time, we choose the wrong location and end up swimming out over very shallow and very sharp corals. I end up scraping my back and legs just escaping. I bed down on the sand, which is surprisingly comfy if you mould into it.

Beers

I use my boots as a pillow. The music keeps on pounding all night long but it doesn’t seem to matter. I drift in and out of very pleasant sleep with the hum of laughter and party going on all around me. The stars are beautiful and I am happy. We wake up to dawn, sleepy faces and more reggae.

This entry was posted on Friday, December 31st, 2004 at 11:59 am and is filed under Central America. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.