The Underwater Wonders of Turneffe Atoll

Photo by Wilbert Sho

Just when I thought I’d finally get a week of rest after returning from Chetumal, my phone rang. It was Josh and TK, my best friends from back in high school, FaceTiming me: “C’mon, bro. This will be super fun! You’ll regret it if you don’t go.” Two days scuba diving at a remote atoll east of Belize City. Within minutes, I was convinced. Tired but excited, I knew I couldn’t miss this adventure.

Back at my wardrobe, I stuffed my duffel bag until the zipper nearly gave out. Thoughts of bright coral patches, the briny smell of salt air, and the glitter of sunlight on the water filled my head.

Before dawn, I was on a bus bound for Belize City, dreaming of the ocean waiting ahead.

Many of my friends and other young adults of my age often ask me, “What is there really to see in Belize? Isn’t it the same thing over and over?” But our Jewel holds wonders beyond imagination. Just 20 miles offshore lies Turneffe Atoll, the largest coral reef atoll in the Western Hemisphere, stretching 30 miles long and 10 miles wide. Known mostly for scientific research and conservation, it also offers one of the most extraordinary scuba diving experiences for any Belizean traveller.

At 7:15 a.m., I stepped off the bus in Belize City. Fruit and vegetable vendors shouted over the rumble of traffic. My friends were waiting outside. “Thought you’d never make it, bro!” TK laughed. “How could I not?” I answered excitedly.

A quick stop at Gwen’s Kitchen gave us fry jacks, beans, and eggs for breakfast, which was very comforting and filling. Then it was on to Sea Sports Belize to rent BCDs and tanks for our dives. At the pier, we loaded our luggage onto the vessel. The captain shouted, “Coming up!” And we were off, the boat skimming the water at fourteen knots. An hour later, sea spray on our faces and turquoise water all around, the Turneffe Atoll finally came into view, and we docked at Calabash Caye.

By mid-morning, we were geared up and headed for our first dive at The Wit. A fifteen-minute ride brought us to Blackbird Caye, where the sunken 375-foot concrete ship lies on the seafloor. Originally built in the mid-20th century to transport goods across the Gulf Coast, it now lies motionless, transformed into an artificial reef that’s one of Belize’s most popular dive sites.

As we descended 15, then 30, then 60 feet, the ship came into focus. Its oxidized structure loomed in the blue, spooky yet magnificent. Strong currents gushed through the crevices, and with them came vibrant schools of snappers. Moving at a slower pace were curious groupers and a turtle passing lazily by. For twenty-five minutes, as we explored the wreck in awe, I imagined the ship’s history while marvelling at the way it had become a sanctuary for sea life.

The Wit’s exterior | Joshua Seguro

The Elbow was next, known for its clear visibility and chance encounters. I hoped to encounter a hammerhead, but instead, a pod of dolphins appeared, circling us before vanishing into the deep. It was a trade I happily accepted. Next at the Terrace, brilliant red barrel sponges and swaying sea fans decorated the reef. White-spotted toadfish peeked from hiding, while schools of Creole wrasse flashed past. Each site was teeming with life and unforgettable.

Barrel sponge. Scientific name: Xestospongia muta | Photo by Wilbert Sho

When we surfaced from our last dive, the afternoon sun was still blazing. Exhausted but exhilarated, we returned to Calabash. That evening, a campfire crackled by the mangroves as we sat together, our laughter carrying into the night. Smoke from the charcoal drifted with the breeze, and . above us, stars spilled across the sky in endless glitter. It was the perfect end of Day One.

Morning came quietly with only the gentle sound of waves and the soft rustle of wind through mangroves. Our second day began on land as we explored the nature trail on Calabash Caye. Wooden signs marked the way and provided educational information on the black spiny-tailed iguanas (Ctenosaura similis) basking in the sun, magnificent Frigate birds (Frigata magnificens) circling above, and the silent but vital work of mangrove roots below. The trail wasn’t long, but it definitely told a story of how the atoll’s land and sea are interconnected.

Later that afternoon, we returned to the sea, but this time on the snorkel trail. Unlike the grand dives of the day before, snorkelling was an intimate encounter. Floating above shallow coral heads,  we watched parrotfish graze noisily on the seafloor, their beaks scraping coral rock patches. Stingrays slipped by like shadows across the sand.

Where diving had felt adventurous, snorkelling felt personal. The reef was right there within arm’s reach, close enough to notice the smallest creatures. It was a reminder that the wonders of Turneffe are not reserved for scuba experts only. Any Belizean can share in the magic with a mask and fins.

Our two-day stay at Turneffe Atoll felt like stepping into three different worlds: the deep, where history and mystery live; the green, where the trade winds move quietly through the mangroves; and the shallow blue, where every ripple reveals another marvel.

For Belizeans who may wonder if our country holds surprises, Turneffe is the answer. Out there, where the reef has its own rhythm and the ocean seems to breathe, you discover a new depth of pride in calling Belize home.

Wilbert Sho is a Marine Biology major at the University of Belize. He lives in Belmopan and enjoys running as well as diving and spending quality time with his family.