In Search of Maya Sea Traders

CHAPTER 15. Settlement Patterns

147 CHAPTER 15 SETTLEMENT PATTERNS I n 1994, I moved the project base camp to Frenchman’s Cay in order to carry out major excavations at that island site. On a map, Frenchman’s Cay is much closer to Punta Gorda than Wild Cane Cay, four islands to the north. However, boat travel was more difficult that it had been to Wild Cane Cay since Frenchman’s Cay was on the outer range of cays in Port Honduras. Between the inner and outer ranges of cays, strong winds often built up in the waters, forming heavy seas. Wild Cane Cay was at the northern end of Port Honduras, where the inner and outer ranges of cays converged. Although it was possible to travel between these ranges in a direct line between Punta Gorda and Wild Cane Cay, if the seas were rough, we traveled inside the inner range, where the waters were more protected. Traveling to Frenchman’s Cay required venturing in the open seas. I wanted to figure out the relationship of Frenchman’s Cay to nearby Wild Cane Cay. Rather than negotiate the rough seas between the two islands on a daily basis, I decided to forgo the relative comforts of Wild Cane Cay for a more primitive existence on Frenchman’s Cay. With no house under which to shelter, no cleared campsite, and no deepwater lagoon in which to swim, I found Frenchman’s Cay a logistical challenge. I hired the landowners to build us an outhouse and a frame, which we covered with a tarp to become the “S.C.A.B. Lab and Café,” referring to the “South Coastal Archaeology in Belize Project.” The landowners ’ teenage children, Lyra and Nathaniel, joined my project as “junior staff.” They added the exuberance and curiosity of youth to the team, as well as knowledge about the local environment and culture. 148 f r e n c h m a n ’ s c a y , 1 9 9 4 a n d 1 9 9 7 Surrounded by tents, dories in the water in front of the campsite, and settled with students and volunteers, Frenchman’s Cay began to feel familiar and even relatively comfortable. Our only luxury was twenty-four-hour radio communication with Punta Gorda, using a two-meter radio powered by car batteries that we charged from a solar panel. We were relatively self-sufficient for weeks at a time, having eliminated trips to town for ice. The frequency of town trips was now determined by the need to replenish our supply of fresh water. When we started getting water at Village Farm on the mainland across from Frenchman’s Cay, our trips to town were even less frequent. Frenchman ’s Cay became our home. I had suffered the usual attrition of project staff, except for Melissa. She and another student, Jodi, would be working on graduate research at underwater sites in Port Honduras. Two of my students from a field school on Wild Cane Cay, Rachel and Mirtha, were also staff members. They longed for the luxuries of Wild Cane Cay. To me, the two islands were quite similar in their lack of basic amenities. Together with other student staff members, Brad and Shelly, my junior staff, and our volunteers, we coexisted with the acrid smell of the mangrove swamp, the swarms of mosquitoes and sandflies that descended periodically like smog over a city, and the rain that gradually saturated the ground, our clothes, the excavations, and occasionally our spirits. Unfortunately, there was no way to efficiently carry out fieldwork on Frenchman ’s Cay other than to live there. It was slim consolation to us that we were living on an ancient Maya site. At other times, we better appreciated our surroundings , which also included rustling coconut palms, mangos and other fruit-bearing trees, a snorkeler’s delight, and the peace and solitude of living alone on a deserted Caribbean island. At times, especially when there was a wind to drive away the insect pests, Frenchman’s Cay became a paradise. Rough seas curtailed most of the boat survey work, with the resulting bene- fit that I was able to turn my attention on Frenchman’s Cay. This was surprising to my students, who reminded me more than once that in previous years I was always away from Wild Cane Cay on boat survey. It was true that once I learned how to drive a dory and felt comfortable on the...