The Island of Roatan

 

Looking at Puerta Azul from the beach.  Enough tropical forest for you?  There are about seven buildings on site (a main lodge and guest cottages).

Looking out toward the dock and reef.  The "puerta azul" or blue door is the entrance to the long dock.

We are told that we are visiting Roatan at the start of their warmest season.  Makes sense due to the sun being directly overhead on its way north until June 21.  Our rented house here is fully air conditioned; however, at the windows we have screens and wooden shutters, no window glass. Thus, we have the choice of A/C and no light from the windows (closed shutters), or light but no effective A/C.  Still, we have two bedrooms, two bathrooms, living room, and a basic kitchen to enjoy.

It reminds us of our time living in Panama. Tropical nights are long year around; sunrise is announced by the crowing of chickens, the cooing of pigeons, and the bleating of goats (from nearby “farmlets”) before the sun actually appears.  Dense tropical vegetation delays the morning sun even longer. 

A sample of staghorn coral.  There were simply too many types of coral to capture them all.  There were large fields of fan coral, some of an intense purple color.  There were huge formations of brain coral also.  Some areas looked like an underwater forest of small trees.

I caught this fish out in the open where it couldn't hide.  Before we got to the reef, we had to cross a field of sea grass.  I saw a large stingray there but was unable to get a photo (first day out wearing those crappy short fins).

Roatan is still very much part of a third world country.  It was in evidence during our drive from the airport and also at a visit to our nearby bodega.  When I first stopped here,42 years ago, English was the almost universal language. However, Honduran mainlanders noticed that this island was relatively more prosperous due to tourism and have moved here in response.  Now, Spanish is a strong second language here; combined with more congestion and the loitering of those still seeking employment.

The big reason to come to Roatan is for snorkeling or scuba diving.  Our hotel/lodge is set up for excellent access to snorkeling at the reef just offshore.  Other accommodations favor the scuba diving tourist.  The western half of this island is somewhat developed while the eastern portion is usually visited on a powerboat excursion.  The reef here is part of the second largest reef worldwide, the Mesoamerican Reef which stretches about 700 miles from northern Yucatan to the Honduran Bay Islands.  The snorkeling may be the best in the Caribbean.

This was one of the first fish we came upon.  I took 100+ photos but will post only a few samples of what we encountered.

A small sample of fan coral on the edge of a deep drop off.  I have never been attracted to scuba diving: more equipment, air refills, and it gets colder and darker as you go deeper.  The most colorful coral seems to prosper in the sunlight nearer to the surface.

We bring our own snorkels and masks; ours are simple snorkel tubes with no valves to complicate things.  Let the snorkel fill with water when submerged to reduce buoyancy.  I want no air restriction and perfect reliability; our snorkels are 40+ years old.  Not all faces are the same shape, and a leaking mask from a poor fit or a rim seal which has lost its pliability can ruin a trip.  I think that Dawn's mask is ready for replacement due to reduced pliability in the rim seal.  You want a wide-angle, close fitting, low volume mask with a soft (usually silicone) rim seal and a soft nose covering.

Good swim fins are harder to transport; physics dictates that the fins must be about two feet long (longer is better) to provide efficient thrust from your legs.  Shorter "travel fins" are sold but are definitely inferior.  The fins our hotel initially rented to us were crap.  Instead of imparting a "wave" motion, it was more like a "barndoor" motion. We exchanged them for longer fins which were many times better.  Still the fins need to fit your feet.  I have wide feet which resulted in sores from pressure points; it is the first time I have had that problem.  We used to have our own fins when we lived in Panama.  I really don't want to have to add them to our luggage.  We had no checked luggage for this trip; makes for a quick departure.  We have experienced lost checked baggage in the past.

Larry floating near the surface.  He and his wife, Janet, are harder core than Dawn & I.  They got up early to get in one last snorkel.  We slept in.

Dawn wearing her rash guard.  It is great to have a wife who enjoys such activities as much as I do.

This is the biggest fish we saw, about 2 1/2 feet long.  I saw a barracuda of about the same length, but they are slender, and that is only a small barracuda.  Larry & Janet saw bigger fish which were gone before we got to the location.

Hard to catch a small quick fish like this in a photo.  Often, they would hide under a coral formation as we approached.

I brought my underwater camera.  It is on the low budget end of the spectrum but can produce good pictures if everything goes right.  Fish are the most difficult photo subjects.  If they sense your interest in them, they tend to either hide or swim quickly away.  Stepwise photo sequence: 1) check to see if the camera is on (it automatically shuts down to save battery if you pause too long between photos), 2) take a breath & put your tongue in the interior snorkel opening to keep salt water out of your mouth, 3) surface dive lifting your legs out of the water using their weight to start a vertical dive, then flutter kick, 4) if going to depth, pinch your nose (through the soft mask) and blow your nose to equalize pressure (and avoid pain). 5) keep kicking to get close, if you stop, you will bob to the surface, 6) you can't take time to focus, you must be quick, point the camera in the right direction and use wide-angle, 7) make sure you hit the right button; on/off & shutter buttons are close together, 8) was the fish still present?  you may just get a narrow rear view as it flees, 9) success! now relax, let natural buoyancy lift you to the surface, 10) as you reach the surface (not before), fill your cheeks with air from your lungs, remove your tongue from the interior snorkel tube opening, and forcefully blow to clear the snorkel tube.  Our rash guard suits add some buoyancy; the problem is more likely to be too much buoyancy rather than not enough.  This limits your ability to go deep.

A grazing school of fish constantly moving across the coral landscape.

A major concern for us was avoiding sunburn.  Our pale Colorado bodies had been covered all winter to avoid the cold.  We both have "rash guards" which are thin nylon suits to cover the entire body.  Larry (couple we were with) showed me to use a baseball cap turned backwards to cover your head and neck when snorkeling.  It is kept in place by the mask straps.

Directions to the reef were easy: Walk to the end of the dock, put on your gear, and swim out.  When crossing the boat channel (marked by buoys) look both ways and cross briskly. We were advised to not try to cross the reef by a local, due to the danger of being trapped and pounded by those breaking waves, but discovered that it could be done by steering toward those areas where the waves were not breaking and then searching for a shallow channel to follow.  We swam along the outside (open sea) edge of the reef to a point where a deep reef break existed, "Spooky Channel".  It was called that because it was so deep that in places you could not see the bottom, or it was a faint shadow.  Then we would return following the inside edge (beach adjacent) of the reef and recrossing the boat channel.

Just a small view looking into Spooky Channel.  When you can't see the bottom, your imagination wonders what may lurk there in the cold depths.

Orville, a long-time resident with a 22' panga, took us to this site.  The several cannons from a pirate ship are real, but the location is staged.  The cannon, an anchor, and other relics were brought from a different wreck location

Do you see the trumpet fish?  Usually, you find this type fish hovering vertically, imitating a coral frond while awaiting prey.

A living conch of good size, about a foot long.  Most of what we found were empty shells.

One day we went on an excursion with Orville in his 22' panga OB.  Being a longtime local he was able to show us some of the better areas and joined us in the water.  He knew the names of all the fish species and pointed out lobsters, conch shells, sea anemones, and cuttle fish.  So many types of coral that I could not describe them all!  We saw many more types of fish than I was able to record.  Dawn and I saw nothing that was really impressive in size; the largest fish being about 2 1/2 feet long, but Larry & Janet, a couple we were with, saw fish up to 4' long.  I saw no sharks, eels or lionfish; a few barracuda but none were over 2 1/2 feet long.

Schools of small fish would hover near a protective coral formation.
  

We made a few forays by taxi away from our hotel to attractions east and west on the island.  We had dinner at a nice restaurant "Sunken Fish" at a nearby hotel and enjoyed the sunset there.  We took a taxi into West End, poorly kept, touristy, lots of bars, not our cup of tea.  We also took a taxi to the Roatan Island Brewery.  Interesting in that the facility is essentially outdoors.  The beer is good, but they served it with ice.  Drink quick or drink it watery.

Roatan locals are friendly and easy to talk to.  Prices are moderate; neither cheap nor expensive.  The flight there from the US is less than three hours.  Will we go back?  The snorkeling is the attraction, otherwise, no reason to return.  We were slightly disappointed with the ambiance.  Third world is depressing.  There are too many other attractive areas to explore.

Hiding in the shade of a nearby soft coral.

Can you see the antennae of the lobster hiding in its coral cave?

When snorkeling on the outside of the reef, you are hundreds of yards away from the shore with no direct route to the beach.  If any emergency occurred, the only option is self-rescue. Larry and Janet were a welcome addition to our snorkeling party.  Before departing from Roatan, the plan was to stay in touch with them.  I was going to send them photos of our snorkel outings.  Unfortunately, the business card that Janet gave me for contact information was completely out of date with no useful information. 

      

Our First Road Trip, April- July, 1972

 Our recent road trip reminded me that exactly fifty years ago Dawn and I embarked on a three-month long road trip, looking for a new beginning. We had been living in Portland, Oregon; both of us quit our jobs and left to explore what other options were out there.  We had saved some money and had my little 1969 Toyota Corona 2-door: all of 95 hp and no A/C.  We had disposed of Dawn's car and everything else, then towed the smallest size U-Haul with our other belongings to her parent's house. Our sleeping bags and a pup tent were packed, and we headed out. 

We first headed south toward San Diego and the Salton Sea. The Salton Sea was disappointing in every way, not a sea, not even much of a lake, and we quickly departed for Nogales, NM. We made a short visit across the border there, then headed north.  We spent a night in our sleeping bags under the stars in the Petrified Forest then, at sunrise we drove into northern Arizona.  On a lonely two-lane road, we came across three drunk Indians standing blocking the road, waving their arms.  Their car had run out of gas, and they wanted a ride in our little coupe.  Fortunately, they were telling the truth; it got very crowded with us all in the car.

We crossed into Colorado at Four Corners then headed northeast toward Denver.  I stopped at an employment agency, but discovered they just wanted a fee and had nothing to offer. Passing into Wyoming, we visited the original Fort Laramie then headed northeast into Nebraska.  We visited Fort Robinson, went swimming at Box Butte Reservoir and slept at a Pine Ridge campground.  We were about the only people at the campground.  A cottontail rabbit was resting outside the flap of our tent when we awoke.  Very quiet and peaceful.

From there we stopped in Omaha to visit family, then headed east.  In Illinois, we visited the Abraham Lincoln home in Springfield. In Kentucky we visited Mammoth Cave NP, world's longest known cave system. From there we drove to Great Smoky Mountains NP.  That evening, we set up camp in an open meadow in a remote part of the park. Despite being sheltered in our tent, we learned what "no-see-ums" are later that evening.  These minute creatures, the size of a grain of black pepper, are not stopped by mosquito screening.  Sometime after midnight, we surrendered to their onslaught, struck camp, and started driving to get away from these nasty little tormentors.

We didn't stop until we were in Mississippi.  Two of Dawn's HS classmates had married, and the husband was in Marine pilot training at the Naval Air Station in Meridian, MS.  We stopped to visit them, and they offered us their spare bedroom.  It was easy to sense that the marriage was in trouble, not a happy household. We left quickly.  It is almost always better to stay in a hotel than interfere too closely in others' personal routines.

We headed for Florida.  Near Destin, we discovered an area where a new beach development was planned, but no building had started.  There were just signs announcing the future concept.  It was a perfect opportunity to sleep right on the beach with no one around.  The sand was amazingly white, fine-grained and pure. Looking through the face of an incoming wave, you could see fish swimming in the seawater.  What a beautiful (and free) site to camp!

From there we drove to the St. Petersburg area.  There we were again able to camp on the beach, but in a more discrete fashion.  We found a country club with extensive beach area and waited until near dark to set up our tent.  The light of sunrise was our alarm clock, to get us up and packing our gear.  We toured a yacht building company while in the area.  

I should mention that, throughout our trip, we would alternate between camping and staying in motels where we could have a real bed and get laundry done.  I mention the camping more often because it provided the more scenic and notable surroundings. Next stop was St. Augustine, FL, which claims to be the oldest city in the US.  It predates the US with almost 500 years of history.  Very pretty with Spanish colonial architecture.

From there we followed the coast northward. In North Carolina we took the ferry to the Outer Banks and Cape Hatteras.  Again, we found an isolated beach with no one else around where we could sleep right on the seashore.  However, a park ranger did find our parked car and write us a ticket for being outside an authorized area.  Still haven't paid that ticket.

In Washington, DC, we took time to see the sights and toured the White House.  However, a hurricane had formed in the Caribbean and was now approaching the US East coast.  As we traveled further north, its remnants finally caught up with us in Pennsylvania.  After touring the Hershey Chocolate factory in Hershey, PA, we set up our tent in an organized campground, and I tried to dig trenches so that the anticipated heavy rainfall would be deflected away from our tent.  It worked, sort of, but with not much sleep.  The following night we slept in our little car with seats reclined, another bad night.

Next destination was Boston, MA.  On the way there we stopped at the cutest little motel.  Every motel unit was a separate cottage.  Each of these cottages was decorated as if it were a child's dollhouse.  Very clean, bright, and cheerful.... still memorable.  In Boston, we drove to Boston harbor.  There I was able to interview a naval architect about the business of designing yachts.  While I was engrossed in this discussion at the architect's office, Dawn was walking the pier looking at yachts.  A young man approached her, initiated a discussion, and ultimately offered her a chance to join the crew of a sailing yacht which would soon be leaving for the Caribbean.  Fortunately, I dodged that bullet, and she elected to stay with me!

From Boston we again headed north to Quebec, Canada.  On the way there we camped one night in a farmer's field in Maine.  We set up our tent in a remote field off a farm road at sunset, then packed up at sunrise.  Quebec was very scenic: 400+ years old, a fortified colonial core, the impressive Frontenac Hotel, and the site of a famous battle for North America.  A report I had done in HS: the battle between the troops of Montcalm and Wolfe (French & British) on the Plains of Abraham.  I was able to actually see how British troops from ships had stealthily climbed the cliffs of the St. Lawrence River to meet their enemies west of the city.

Now we headed west to Montreal. The architecture was/is very French.  We bought a sheepskin rug there to help keep us warm.  A cold front came through and we holed up in a cozy motel. Then we drove onward to Toronto and Niagara Falls.  Crossing back into the US, we headed west.  Of course, no GPS at that period, but we used state maps to see where the state parks were.  The parks denoted scenic areas, plus they also usually included campgrounds.  We would arrive at a campground after the admission fee staff had left and before sunset.  Then we could set up camp and use the bathrooms and showers. 

Heading back through the Midwest, we stopped in Painesville, OH, on Lake Erie to look at a new sailboat, but overall made fewer stops until back in Omaha.  Staying only a few days, we headed toward the extreme NW corner of Montana.  Along the way we visited the Corn Palace, the Badlands and then wanted to see Mt. Rushmore. But we never made it to Mt. Rushmore!  When I pointed our Toyota uphill, the motor would race, but the car would barely move.  The clutch plate was slipping.  We headed downhill into Rapid City to the local Toyota dealership.

If any auto dealership deserved an award, it was this one.  Rapid City had suffered a recent major flash flood.  Buildings had been swept away, and the dealership was included in the destruction.  Their entire building had been flooded including strong currents; the parts department was a mound of squashed cardboard boxes covering the floor. New cars on the lot were full of mud.  Our car's clutch was broken, and we needed replacement parts.  We waded through the boxes, plucking out shapes of about the right size, but none turned out to be the correct part. The part ordered needed to be flown into Rapid City, but would not arrive until tomorrow, Saturday.

The owner of the Toyota dealership drove us on a tour of the city and offered a vacant home (due to the flood) as a place for us to stay.  Meanwhile his mechanic disassembled our clutch in readiness for the new part.  We brought in a KFC dinner for our mechanic; he worked until 9pm.  After a good night's rest in the offered home, we returned to the dealership.  The part had arrived, the clutch was re-assembled, and we were on our way by noon.  The total repair charge: $35.00.  Amazing!  We wrote to Toyota HQ about this incomparable service.

No time left to see Mt. Rushmore; people were expecting us in Montana.  We did stop for an hour or so at the site of Custer's Last Stand on the Crow Indian Reservation.  It was a somewhat barren hilltop where his men were overwhelmed by Indian forces.  Then we pushed onward.  I wanted to introduce Dawn to a female friend of mine and her super parents.

  At a party of UCSB students in Spring 1969, I had met a young woman, Kathy, who convinced me to meet her for tennis the next day, after I sobered up.  From that meeting, we became friends.  Not sure what she saw in me; we came from vastly different backgrounds.  But we had some good discussions.  Her career approach was to go to wherever the job was.  My approach (at that time) was to go to where I wanted to live and then find a job.  She invited me to visit her and her parents at their summer cabin in Montana during the coming summer.

August 1969, after flying from Newport Beach to visit my family in Omaha, I had flown to the Burk's remote corner of MT.  I met her parents.  Her father was Joe Burk (he has a large entry in Wikipedia).  Joe received the Sullivan Award in 1939 as the top amateur athlete in the United States.  He was the US and Canadian champion in singles sculls (rowing) 1937-1940.  The Olympics were cancelled in 1940; thus, he lost that chance.  He went on to become a PT boat commander in the Pacific during WWII.  He was head coach for the champion Univ. of Pennsylvania rowing team for many years. Amazing man and still very fit in his late 50's.  And Kathy said about her mother, "My mother is in her mid 50's and still has a better figure than I do!"  The Burks had built their own cabin in the wilderness, while they slept in a trailer.  Then Joe shoveled out a silted beaver pond to make a swimming hole.  I caught trout, first cast, in the stream that flowed through their property.

Kathy had graduated in 1970 and become a PanAm flight attendant.  Two years later and now Dawn and I were meeting the Burk family at the summer cabin.  Once there, they recommended or guided us on hikes to remote lakes and streams.  These were people I wanted to emulate in our marriage.  We discussed with them our wanderings to find the ideal place to live.  They suggested northern California, and we concurred (Remember this was 50 years ago.)  After this visit, Kathy and I stayed in occasional contact until her marriage five years later.  She flew internationally including government contract flights to Vietnam.

Back in our Toyota, we headed west to Idaho, then south through a corner of Oregon and into northern Nevada.  It was now July and getting warm.  We could see the snowcapped Santa Rosa Range of mountains to the east of our highway. We turned off the paved road unto a jeep trail that led us up the mountainside, up until we were able to camp in cool comfort next to a snowbank.  Getting back to the highway by a different route, we drove through an abandoned "ghost" town.  Then it was Lake Tahoe, San Francisco and our trip was over.  That little Toyota had handled the jeep trail and served us for six more years.

After interviewing twice in the Bay Area, I was hired for an engineering job near Santa Rosa, the wine country of California.  And a new adventure began.