By the time Belize reopened in October 2020, I’d held five sets of flight tickets, the travel date having been continually pushed back by changing border closures. The summer of 2020 was, essentially, spent watching flight delays and cancelations. So, when the border finally reopened and I stepped off the plane in Belize City on October 3, I was very happy.

But the process of travel had changed. I’d taken a PCR test before leaving Montana, carrying the results with me to present during a new health screening process in Philip Goldstein International Airport. Upon arrival in Belize City, all passengers were ushered through a line for health screenings. I presented my negative test results. Had my temperature taken. Was asked details about where I was going and how long I was staying. After a successful jaunt through the health screening, then customs, and then immigration, I rechecked my bags for my in-country Tropic Air flight and took a seat on one of the many wooden benches lining the airport waiting area. I considered how grateful I was to be outside my home state of Montana.

Five of us had made the trek to El Pescador Lodge on Ambergris Caye. All but one were return guests. Ken, a retired Delta pilot and Wyoming horseman was an old-school gentleman. Old friends Mike and Bill brought humor and tales of permit adventures to the dinner table each evening. And newcomer Bryan fit right in, being promptly bitten by the tarpon bug and boating more than a dozen silver kings over the course of the week. And I was there toting cameras and, occasionally, a fly rod. Within a day, our little squad had morphed into a family. Things like that happen easily at fishing lodges.

The daily routines had changed, of course. Every morning, Dunia arrived and took our temperatures, bringing along a cup of coffee and a breakfast burrito. Pangas were sprayed with a disinfectant before we could climb aboard, and at dinner we were carefully spaced out, an empty seat between each angler. The tempo of the lodge had changed slightly; even here it was impossible to escape the concept that the world was different.

But despite the little details, so much remained. Mariano whipped up magical concoctions in the bar. Isa gave casting lessons on the dock, helping me conquer my tailing loop habit. Lodge manager Bruce kept everyone entertained with tales of South Africa, and he was always keen to have a drink and chat.

Like most fishing destinations, once you’re on the water it’s easy to forget the outside world, with everything turning to a blend of water, sun, and air, and little else. Boated fish are celebrated with Belikins, and cold ceviche is provided during runs between the flats. The guides, who had been without work since March, were incredibly happy to see anglers (as was the entire staff) and they put in the work for us.