Birding on a Western Caribbean Cruise

With stops that included Cozumel, Roatan, and Belize, my cruise to the Western Caribbean was mostly dedicated to discovering its marine life. Lugging my fins, mask, and snorkel, along with an underwater camera, I was prepared to spend most of my port stops swimming and snapping shots of fish that call the vast Mesoamerican Reef connecting these destinations home. Of course, I also schlepped along my 400mm zoom lens and DSLR camera because birding was also at least a small part of my week-long plan.

You don't need to even disembark a cruise ship to witness the many sea and shore birds that live off of the ocean's bounty. Gulls are the the most common and will surely escort your ship as it sets sails from any Florida port. And don't miss the ospreys that ply the surrounding harbor for underwater prey. As you make your way into tropical waters, frigatebirds and boobies are the most likely birds you'll encounter while at sea.

Wind prevented me from getting an early start snorkeling in Cozumel, my cruise's first port of call, which gave me a chance to photograph terns, pelicans, and laughing gulls along the island's western shore. Kingbirds and mockingbirds, each of the tropical variety, were easy to spot as they alighted on to the utility lines and into the canopies of trees that bordered the roads.

As I made my way to Punta Sur where I hoped red flags didn't warn of dangerous surf, I stopped at the village of El Cedral where I observed my very first American redstart, a winter visitor to the area. The male warbler flitted about in an expansive palapa close to the oldest Mayan ruin on the island, the bird a colorful contrast to the bland grackles that mostly dominated the birdscape in the sleepy town.

At Punta Sur, a nature preserve unsurprisingly at the most southern point of Cozumel, was where I witnessed another first, a palm warbler, who like the redstart, was a seasonal migrant. A ranger said that roseate spoonbills were present in a nearby lagoon but I only saw a single lazing crocodile. I also observed black vultures circling overhead and a short time later, even more were perched at the nearby historic lighthouse.

At the end of the park's road, I spotted my first hummingbird as I carried my snorkel gear to the beach through the Del Cielo Beach Club. Bright green and large, the hummer might have been a Cozumel emerald. Not counting birds, fish, and crocodiles, there was plenty of other native fauna in the area to take note of in the form of iguanas, coati, and racoons, all subjects worthy of their own fascinating stories later. However I'd spend the remainder of my time in Cozumel exploring its southernmost reefs.

The next day in Belize gave me a chance to see another common seabird in most tropical ports, the cormorant, the sleek bird flying low over the azure waters, joining the many gulls, terns, frigatebirds, and pelicans over the vast seascape. My short stay on Caye Caulker didn't give me a chance to seek out any local birds; I was singularly focused below the water. However before donning my mask to witness a southern ray and nurse shark feeding frenzy, I snapped some shots of the seabirds trying to participate in the mayhem from above.

On Roatan, one of Honduras's Bay Islands, I drove to the northern coast that lies just several dozen feet from the vast Mesoamerican Reef, second in size to only the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. At a high overlook off the road I was able to get a birds eye view of the natural wonder. On the same stop, I was also successful in photographing a native bird, the golden-fronted woodpecker.

Later in the day, close to my ship on a pristine path through tropical foliage, I followed unique calls that sounded vaguely like a dove. It was a white-crowned pigeon, joining the woodpecker as another brand new find for me on the island. Nearby I saw at least my third hummingbird from the trip, even capturing a blurry shot. Alas, all I can say about the hummer was that it was another emerald-colored individual.

After three consecutive Caribbean island stops packed with encounters with sublime underwater creatures, I was prepared for a fourth and final day spent on dry land. A plan to visit the Chacchoben Mayan pyramid ruins recently excavated from the wild jungle a short drive from the port of Mahahual on Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula was surely going to give me that elusive hummingbird shot, not to mention even better ones of trogons, euphonias, manakins, exotic jays, tanagers, and, in my wildest of dreams, toucans.

Well here's the thing about cruises: they're a great way to travel cheaply and luxuriously but if your dream is to visit a specific destination it's not the best way to realize it. While cruise schedules are made months, if not years, in advance - you can usually set your watches by their punctuality - the whims of weather can often force a sudden change of plans. And that's what happened at our fourth stop, in Mahahual, when the captain announced at the last minute that the port was closed due to high seas that made docking not just dangerous but impossible at piers exposed to the open Caribbean Sea.

Sure I was disappointed, but I was also somewhat relieved. I had snorkeled more on this cruise than on any cruise I had ever taken before, collecting photos and stories that would take me weeks to organize and recount. It was time to get my head out of the clouds and back underwater on the reef where it had started.