People You Meet - Chocolate and the manatees

Article by: John Ryan, October 2005

Spend even the shortest amount of time on Caye Caulker and you will get to know 'Capital-C' Chocolate. Wiry and impossibly-tanned, Lionel 'Chocolate' Heredia (the nickname comes from a boyhood job delivering chocolate bread) has lived and worked Belize's coastal fringe all his 76 years, and most might think he has earned the right to sit out the rest of his days outside his little gift shop, soaking up the sun and mellowing out. But he has another agenda.

Chocolate took to boating early, becoming a fisherman by his 18th birthday. Struggling to make a living in the old British Honduras (Belize gained independence in 1981), he tried his hand at numerous jobs in and around dusty Belize City, but it wasn't until the mid-1960s that career inspiration struck.

Chocolate was asked to ferry an American out to the warm waters off-shore to take a look at the herd of Antillean manatees - lovably large, stodgy sea mammals related to the dugong, that were often wishfully mistaken for mermaids by ancient sailors. An idea bubbled to the surface and Chocolate's new career change was just a tour boat away.

These strange, lumbering creatures have become his passion...

Since setting up business in 1968, Chocolate has been plying the waters on regular trips to see the manatees. These strange, lumbering creatures have become his passion as well as a source of income and Chocolate has become the country's most vocal advocate for increased funding and patrols to protect the manatee's habitat and food supply. He claims that there were only two manatees left in the early 1980s, so he must have invoked some serious underwater wining and dining since then.

In February 2003, Chocolate was presented with Belize's most prestigious environmental award, for his 'lifetime efforts' at conservation. In recent times, he has led campaigns to halt the shooting of egrets, lobbied for a tour operator code of conduct in sensitive areas, and - perhaps his crowning glory - successfully petitioned the Belizean Government to have the Swallow Caye area declared a protected marine park.

But, he says, the fight goes on. Such a declaration does not mean an issue is home and hosed, as calling an expanse of water a marine park is meaningless unless it's backed up by rules and someone to enforce them. Chocolate is now hounding the government on this issue. For the interim, he has made signs and planted then in the waters, marking manatee areas and imploring boat operators to slow down. Without these jerry-built reminders, Chocolate sighs, there would be nothing to inform people of the existence of the protected zone. This man has a passion that just won't quit.

Colourful and iconic, Chocolate's profile also makes him a popular topic for gossip. While I was there, a wooden house caught fire over his back fence. Did Chocolate set fire to it, I heard one man ask a shopkeeper the following day. Chocolate's wife, a tall Minnesotan named Annie, laughs at this attention, 'Yes. People love talking about Chocolate'.

'He's living on past glories,' one rather shirty hotel owner told us. 'He makes out he's the only one who cares.' There may be some truth to this claim, although Chocolate could be forgiven for believing he's fighting a one-man war against environmental degradation.

On an uncharacteristically cloudy day, we set off with Chocolate and a collection of American tourists to see the manatees live and up-close. Before setting off, Chocolate talks to the group in his Caribbean-accented English, explaining that there were no guarantees that we'd see a manatee and that, unlike other tour operators, we certainly wouldn't be swimming with them ('I don't believe in that' he says simply).

The tours are promoted as snorkelling and manatee trips, but it soon becomes apparent which activity takes priority in Chocolate's mind...

The tours are promoted as snorkelling and manatee trips, but it soon becomes apparent which activity takes priority in Chocolate's mind; the snorkelling gear is old and broken, and the actual time spent swimming with the miraculous Caribbean fish is a fraction of the time spent with your head over the side of the boat, looking out for a mysterious manatee.

But we do see them. It's as if they're attracted to Chocolate's boat. Their adorably doughy presence is greeted by shrieks of delight from the assembled group, and a satisfied smile from Chocolate - he clearly hates for anyone to go back to Caulker without seeing these creatures and getting a personal insight into why they should be protected.

And the manatees themselves? Well, they sure ain't pretty (those old sailors would have had to be at sea a long time to see any mermaid glamour) but they are intriguing beasts and we are lucky they still exist. And for their part, they seem to be doing all they can to keep Chocolate - and anyone else along for the ride - interested.