Explore a Reef Hideaway in Belize

The Placencia Peninsula Offers Affordable Adventures

Article and photos by Daniel Gabriel

At sunset, the gazebo hammocks and the Caribbean beckon from the verandah of Placencia’s Paradise Vacation Hotel.

Sure, you’ve heard of Belize. Biggest barrier reef in the western hemisphere. All those great snorkeling and diving sites at Ambergris and Caye Caulker, right? All true, but to focus only on the best-known of the Belizean cayes is to miss out on one of the gems of this breathtakingly diverse country’s world-class coastline: the Placencia Peninsula. This 15 mile-long finger of land has been called “the cay you can drive to.”

The Placencia Peninsula has the same soft sand as the islands, the same swaying palm trees and deep blue Caribbean waters . . . yet it doesn’t feel as if it has sacrificed its soul for tourism. True, there are a few discreet luxury resorts tucked under the palm fronds halfway up the peninsula, and a healthy cross-section of international nomads fill the wooden guesthouses of the village at the southern tip, but the local ambience remains laid-back. Besides, its 14-mile beach is the longest in the country, providing plenty of room to get lost along it.

The Barrier Reef — a stunning 175 mile-long strand of waving coral that is home to more than 80 species of fish and countless varieties of plant life — lies 45 minutes offshore. Boats run daily to dive sites at the Silk Cayes or Laughing Bird Caye (recently designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site). Our family thoroughly enjoyed Ranguana Caye, where the day outing included barbecued red snapper for lunch and plenty of snorkeling spots for non-divers. We saw multi-colored fan coral, stands of brain coral, darting schools of parrotfish — even a manta ray.

If you’re a diver, so much the better. Because the Barrier Reef separates further from the mainland as it approaches Placencia, creating huge patches of coral reef with channels dropping to 100 feet and then rising again into shoals and cayes. This provides both shallow spots for snorkeling and easy access to deep water sites for calm water diving year-round. The area is also noted for viewing migrating whale sharks.

Other appealing daily tour options are to Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary, which is the world’s only jaguar preserve; Red Bank, which is home to a seasonal population of rare scarlet macaws; or outings to the Mayan ruins of Nim Li Punit or Labaantun.

We also took an excursion south along the coast to Monkey River. Part of this trip runs through mangrove swamps on the far side of Placencia Lagoon, where dolphins and manatees cavort in the late afternoon sun. Monkey River Town — once the terminus of a banana railroad before blight destroyed the crops — is now a fading, forgotten Garinagu village that relies on medicinal herbs from the surrounding jungle for most of its basic medical needs. The river itself features a variety of exotic birdlife. When we hiked ashore, a tiny machete-hacked path led us past jaguar and tapir tracks, kapok trees and towering royal palms, to a hidden inland bamboo grove.

Lobster fishermen return with their catch to nearby Monkey River Village.

When it was time to eat, we could simply stroll Placencia’s “sidewalk” (“the world’s narrowest main street,” according to the Guinness Book of World Records) and choose between the many local eateries, serving anything from seafood to vegetarian to homemade ice cream. Papaya and seaweed shakes made a great mid-afternoon refresher.

Local kids playing on world's narrowest street.

Changes have been coming to Placencia, of course. In the last few years a well has been dug, which means a steady water supply rather than having to depend on rainwater collected on roofs, and two years ago phone service arrived. There’s even an Internet cafe. But the only road in is still dirt, and fishing boats still go out every day, and tiny Wallen’s Market is still the biggest store on the peninsula.

Author climbing palm tree.

Probably the largest recent changes were wrought by Hurricane Iris, which scored a direct hit on Placencia in October 2001. New visitors will hardly notice the aftermath of damage, but longtime residents bemoan the thousands of downed palm trees and the fact that, for the first time, folks are building in concrete, not the traditional wood. Despite it all, I’m betting on Placencia to keep its welcoming warmth for many seasons to come.

Daniel Gabriel is the director of Writers and Artists in the Schools Program in Minnesota.