This trip had been in the works for about nine months. People opted out, other people opted in, the vendor changed a bunch of things, it was starting to feel a bit like a potential clusterfuck. The resort turned out ok, as usual the D&C crew proved fantastic, and we met some cool divers (hello Derek, Bob and Tiff).

It was only our second time in Honduras’ Bay islands but my expectations were high, the diving around Utila had been spectacular. I was looking forward to some Salva Vida (as I’ve mentioned in another post), and some four years old Flor De Cana (though since the word “years” was removed from the labels, I’m not quite sure what’s in the bottle). I was frustrated on both counts, the resort’s all inclusiveness did not extend to those products but rather to much less expensive ones. You can read cheaper if you want. While the beer was fine the rum, not made in the Caribbean as far as I could tell, was nasty. I got my Salva Vida fix at the airport on the way out, all was not lost.

Getting off the plane and walking into a wall of hot, humid, tropical air is like a thousand hugs after some time in solitary when you come from a place where hockey is mandatory, by law, for all children. Single runway airport, disembarking straight onto the tarmac, I always get a little 1950’s and suddenly wish I was better dressed.

Caveat urinator, we had the pleasure of going to Roatan but I wouldn’t dare say we know it, we just saw a really small part. Roatan is a fairly large island, staying around the West End is not like staying around Caribe Point, experiences will vary. Also the roads aren’t that fast (up and down, tight curves, other slow vehicles) and they are certainly daunting after sundown, if you have the time to move around plan accordingly, if you expect to be there in 30 minutes, multiply by two.

We stayed at a resort near the center of the island on the south side, we chose it primarily for the on-site diving club , it came with unlimited shore dives (yay!) and some decent package deals. The dive shop had a nice relaxed attitude, you didn’t get the feeling they were out to fleece you. I’m not pluggin’, I’m just sayin’.

I bang on about drinkskultur a lot, and I think that’s why I generally dislike all inclusives (but maybe it’s only some resorts? I’m not sure, it’s not our usual mode of travel), they tend to isolate you from the place you’re visiting and from the drinkskutlur. You spend your time in a bubble, and that’s great if that’s what you’re looking for. On that note, the (I guess) for gringos drink on the island is called the monkey lala, it’s a local term for the basilisk lizard, aka the Jesus lizard because it can run on water, you know the one. Cool beast, there were a few hiding in the bushes at the resort.  Not sure how the name came to describe an overly sweet concoction of non local ingredients (vodka, Bailey’s, Kahlua, pina colada mix, maybe chocolate syrup and variations upon that theme). Try the monkey lala at your own risks, be warned it’s diabetes in a glass, and probably ten thousand calories. Flabulous ain’t a thing.

The violence of Honduras, or at least the homicide rate is no secret, it’s been falling, but it is still the world’s highest, by a lot, the stats are mind boggling. Even on Roatan, a far cry from the mainland situation, the US State Department advises to avoid some areas after dark. When you travel through the island, armed guards (frequently with shotguns) are in evidence in most villages. There were other signs as well that things can get a bit tense. So standard advice, if you plan on travelling through the island, as always keep your wits about you and preferably do it in a group, being on vacation is no excuse for leaving your brains at home.

In terms of geology (rock nerd) the island looks like a veneer of limestone over some sort of metamorphic rock or at least sedimentary rock with intrusions, they are visible where there are cliffs. I’m only guessing, my earth science classes are far behind me, but the sculpted limestone make for dramatic rock formations you would not want to be thrown against by the surf. There were only small sandy nooks in our area but they were very picturesque, in a Blue Lagoon sort of way. That reference shows my age I guess.

The weather was a balmy 30 C (86 F) every day , just hot enough to let you know it’s island time, but not so hot as to be uncomfortable. The steady ocean breeze kept everything perfect and most sandflies at bay. It did rain a few times (this was December-January), but though violent and monsoon like, the downpours were brief and the sun quickly came out and dried everything.

After the rain all the colours turned super vibrant and the smell of the earth and the vegetation was incredible.

We were there for a week and we dove 14 times, that included boat dives, drift dives, shore dives and a sea wasp infested night dive. We dove on the last and the first day of the year, I love it when that happens. The water was warm, not colder than 25C (77F), max depth varied from 60 to 80 feet, and dives usually lasted about an hour. The DM’s were good, keeping an eye on your air but otherwise being rather hands off. They did point out cool critters for those interested (pipefish=cool). PADI Instructors were on hand if someone was in need of a certification or of a tune-up.

For the first three days strong winds blew offshore, making for a very choppy surface. This lead to some rock and roll boat rides, it also meant that the most dangerous part of the dive was getting back on the boat and that visibility was not perfect. It was still very good though, probably 50 feet, but with quite a bit of particles moving about. For the rest of the trip the wind died down and the sea became glass, the viz was crystalline.

Maybe it’s just how my brain works, but have you noticed that every dive trip seems to have it’s own emblematic fish or fishes? Take for example trumpetfish, they’re pretty ubiquitous in the Caribbean, I don’t think I have ever been to a place where I didn’t see some.  In Curaçao however, it was like a colourful trumpetfish grenade had exploded. Red, yellow and blue on top of the usual incognito green and bigger than average. In my mind the trumpetfish is forever the spirit animal of Curaçao. For Roatan, at least the part we dove, it was seahorses and indigo hamlets. Certainly I had never seen seahorses so big and so colourful, it was extraordinary. Likewise it was the first time I saw (or noticed) indigo hamlets, and they are pretty cool looking fishes, if I was a better photographer I would show you some, for now you’ll just have to google it.

I probably could have taken a decent pic of a bright yellow seahorse, but the bunch of divers with cameras crowding it was scaring him (or her) half to death so I let it be. There might be a post/rant coming about that, about not putting your gopro up a turtle’s nose and generally not always diving with a camera, but that’s just me I guess. Maybe it’s better suited for a talk around a bar, hit me up if you see me. I’ll buy the first round.

Not many big fishes in that neck of the reef, there was an eagle ray or two, a free swimming green moray but that was about it. Aside from a couple of really big crabs, the rest were smaller animals, but just as interesting ( juvenile spotted drums! nudibranchs! mini crabs inside of sponges! Golden morays! High Hats! Come on!). There was also a bit of entertainment when my dive buddy tried signing “slippery dick” underwater, a sign we had not previously discussed. I figured it out eventually but my mind went all sorts of places. It’s an actual fish name. Look it up on the internet, at work, I dare you.

Pretty much everything you see underwater is neat, but here’s a rapid fire list of stuff that made my days: toadfishes, blue parrot fishes (which you don’t see that often), all kinds of shrimps, oceanic durgons, some big groupers and schools of creole wrasses, and that is on top of all the usual suspects.  Several times we were surrounded by different schools fish, that’s always extremely cool.

Two sites stand out as being especially nice, Mary’s Place and Calvin’s Crack, both had long narrow canyons in the reef, with only a partial overhead environment. Just lovely dives. As a whole the subaquatic topography was generally interesting, with castle like outcrops, sand channels, canyons and walls.

The night dive started out perfect, you barely knew the water was there, it was warm, motionless and perfectly clear. I felt balanced on my beam of light, like on a jedi stripper pole.  Sleeping fishes (don’t wake them, you’ll mess up their internal clock) and hundreds of red shrimp eyes wherever my light would pass. On the way back we went through a swarm of sea wasps. Painful, they stung around the face and neck (thank you long wetsuit), it was distinctly unpleasant. My dive buddy looked like she had her lips botoxed and I had welts on my neck for days.

Sea wasps tend to float around a specific depth and they are attracted to diver’s lights. So next time this happen we will either sink or soar away from them and turn our lights off for a bit. That’s the kind of thing that is best discussed with your DM (if there is one) beforehand so that she does not freak out and think she’s lost divers. Same goes for your dive buddy, put the protocol in place ahead of time, it could get difficult to explain underwater using unrehearsed signs. When you come up it might be a good idea to blow air out of your octopus above your head, to create a jellyfish free ascent column. That was the local wisdom anyways.

Another great dive was the Prince Albert wreck. An artificial reef sunk over 30 years ago,  the ship (originally brought Nicaraguan refugees during that country’s civil war) now sports lots of marine growth, especially on its fore and aft castles. The ladders from the ‘tween deck to the weather decks are completely covered by corals, giving them a Gaudi-esque appearance. Plenty of easy swim throughs are present for those that feel up to it. There’s a commemorative plaque as well for a gentleman whose ashes were scattered there, have a thought if you see it. There are worse places to sleep.

There is also a DC-3 carcass nearby, the fuselage is collapsed and the viz was so-so. Still, airplane wreck, always cool. Can’t wait to dive a B-17 or maybe the lake Mead B-29…

Our last dive  was short and shallow, due to flying out the next day. I’ve heard all sorts of guidelines about diving and plane rides, but I like to have a minimum of 24 solid hours of buffer, especially after several days of continuous diving. The last place you want to have doubts about decompression issues is in a metal tube at 36 thousand feet.

Towards the end of the last dive, in the shallows the bottom was covered in rainbows, the wavelets above acting like prisms, it was a fitting farewell.

Would we go back to Roatan? Of course, but probably to another resort/part of the island so we can experience something different. On the other hand there are just too many new places to check-out. Unless we get an amazing deal, the next trips will certainly be to new spots, new horizons, new stretches of sea.

No matter what, hope to see you soon ocean.