Yesterday was our day off of diving, we have officially completed our advanced course and today we started our rescue course. Here’s what the morning looked like:
Not very glamorous, huh? There is certainly some fun in the sun, but we also do a lot of studying. Today was a few hours in a classroom and a few hours in a saltwater “pool” practicing skills. We promise more pictures when our diving adventures get more interesting.
Anyway, since it was our day off yesterday, I thought I’d do a photographic house tour while I did laundry.
We have the downstairs of a two-story house. When you walk in our front door, you enter a very large great room that is divided into a few sections.
Of course, any respectable Caribbean house should have a bar. On the right, you have our dining area.
And on the left, is our “living room.”
We aren’t using the tv much, but this corner also has the best wifi reception. In this picture, Roger is hard at work on the phone with clients. Our library is in the back left corner:
Our room is off to the right:
One full bathroom:
And a full kitchen. So far our culinary experiments include red beans and rice (with chicken and chorizo) and quesadillas. We’re still figuring out our limits.
Roger kindly hung my favorite spot in the whole house:
We have shade all afternoon and, in the evenings, get a great sea breeze (hence the name of the house). But most importantly, here is our guest room, just waiting for you!
Our plan for primary transportation was the two bicycles we “rented/bought” from the owners of the home we are renting. First, remember that we are in a Central American country, and then we are living on a island. Every thing is 2nd/3rd rate quality, think Huffy rejects; and then it all rusts, a lot. So, the bikes were a little suspect, but we are the proud owners of an inexpensive mountain bike for me, and a cruiser with a basket for K. Sunday, we actually rode to the closest dive shop to try them out. We had a couple of really nice dives with the shop, but we had a recommendation for another shop to try….on the other end of the road from our house…literally.
There is one major road that runs from our house in the East along the coast through “town” to the West end of the beach where it ends. About 3.75 miles long, and the dive shop is situated exactly at the western end. Monday morning we headed out to the dive shop bright and early on our trusty steeds. We pedaled leisurely through the early risers and kids heading to parochial school studies in uniforms. Carrying about 30 lbs of scuba gear with us, we cruised past the end of the paved road, marked by the dock bar aptly named Rehab (there are 12 steps from the land to the dock bar entrance); and out the dirt road to the dive shop. At approximately 3.7 miles from the house, my bike cassette falls off the hub and jams against the bottom rail. The bike has become instantaneously useless. I walk/push the bike the final 100 yards to the dive shop.
We have two glorious dives with an energetic little Brazilian dive master. But the pressing problem of having no transportation put a damper on the end of the trip. Kerry took off on her bike, I shoved the bike and me and dive gear into the back of a tuk-tuk with the wheels hanging over the sides left and right. Remember those 10′ wide roadways with traffic and pedestrians? It was an interesting ride back to the house. I grabbed the homeowner, he scratched his head and said to give him a day to investigate.
Tuesday was a regroup day. Late wake up, finish unpacking, sorting, reevaluate the living space and storage. I know Kerry likes to be unpacked immediately, but some things take precedence, such as getting on a boat and jumping into the water. So Tuesday we regrouped and got ahead of our chores. Also allowed me to work a bit and keep some clients happy.
However, I did take time for some exercise. And honestly, it was the coolest form of exercise ever. We have 150 yard long lagoon in front of our beach. The east end has a little reef which curves south to some exposed rocks(baby islands) with vegetation and critters. The west end is another shallow reef. In between is about 125 yards of 3-6 foot deep water. It is constantly fed by the push of water and waves over the eastern reef by the tradewinds; and exiting out the western reef. The result is a nice channel full of coral heads, fish, plants and current. Seriously, a salt water endless pool over a coral reef. The velocity depends on where in the channel you are, slower on the edges, a good 50 sec/50 yard hard pull in the middle. I found that swimming against the current for 100 yards, then floating back down current to gaze at the wildlife, to repeat at the bottom of the lagoon was a great hour workout of swimming. Kerry caught some video below
Tuesday night I got the bike back, fully repaired. I guess bike parts are insanely cheap on this island, mainly because they break ALL THE TIME. We are now all ready to head out on Wednesday morning to the dive shop at the other end of the road to begin our Advanced Open Water class. The class consists of five dives over two days, all specialties or fine tuning dive skills like buoyancy. I will let Kerry explain the dives in more detail. I bring it up because on the way home from the dives on Wednesday afternoon, the rear tire went flat…about 200 yards from our home. So, I walked/pushed the bike for a second time. At that point we had yet to make it to and from the dive shop we like on the bikes. We cannot walk the distance or pay for tuk-tuk rides each day. Luckily, I found bike tubes to be cheap at the local hardware store and was able to repair the tire at the dive shop before our night dive Wednesday night. Our instructor was kind enough to load all three of us on his quad for a ride two-thirds of the way home resulting in a short walk in the night air, under a carpet of stars.
Today, Thursday, we take our bikes out to the end of the road one more time to finish up day two of the Advanced Open Water class. I am happy to report that the bike, tires, and rider all made it out to the end of the road AND home in one piece and working order. Maybe, just maybe this will work out. As long as you accept the likely breakdowns, flat tires, dodging kids, dogs and tuk-tuks, and rough as $#@* dirt roads, we may make it there on island time…but with a sore ass. Did I forget to mention the bikes are rigid frame steel with paper-thin seats? Still, the best $50 we have ever spent, because walking nearly eight miles a day in flipflops kills my feet.
Luckily I have a warm salt warm “pool” out front to soak my sore body in.
So, after I calmed down from wanting to beat the crap out of not one, but two Delta Airlines employees for some seriously silly stuff, I realized I was a little stressed about getting to Utila. Home for six weeks is a long time, and I was really hoping that all the online research and emails had gotten the major issues right.
Touch down in Roatan, landing over the crystal blue waters and sparkling white beaches of the Western Caribbean put me in the right mood. Immigration and customs was laughingly simple and, although once again (Reno and Atlanta) the 55lb box of books, food and protein shakes needed to be opened and given the cursory inspection, everything made it to Honduras in one piece.
I second Kerry’s comments about Island Air and Capt. Angelo. Top notch gent and cannot more highly recommend him for bouncing around the Bay Islands.
The ride though “town” and out to our slice of paradise was part grin, part chuckle. Kids, pedestrians, dogs, chickens, scooters and tuk-tuks (taxi scooters with bench seats) all share the 10 foot wide roadways. 12 inch deep gutters line either edge, so you have to make sure not to slide too far to the right edge. The pavement ended and we continued another ½ mile out dirt road on the south side of the island, the beach and water never more than 100’ away. Our suite is perfect, opens to the water, gets a great breeze all the time so far, and the owners are really laid back Cunucks that escaped the six months of winter to dive and play full time.
We did not waste any time. The bags were stashed and we walked back into town to explore and set up some diving. Have now done dives with two shops. Both good outfits and we got four solid dives in to re-familiarize ourselves with the process and the fun. Was playing tag with a five foot nurse shark for about 10 minutes today between chasing lobster and spotted eels. No whale sharks, yet.
Oh, for those of you that have seen the video for “If You Come to Utila” (Youtube Video (PG13)) we dove with Ginski today. He is the Aussie blonde in the dive scenes talking about all the different animals you will see. And yes, we have seen about half the Skidrow girls. Utila can be easy on the eyes.
So far my impressions are living up to our research and hopes. Above-average diving is close by (literally 100 yards off our beachfront), food is cheap (like homemade omelets with baguette for $3.50 a plate), our living situation couldn’t be much better, and we are getting color back in our skin. Working has been a bit of a struggle, but we are progressing through that too. We finally have local phones, so family can get in touch with us, but email still works best and quick.
Going to make a decision about which shop to start our Dive Master training with tomorrow. Leaning one way, but it is the shop at the other end of town from our house. So, literally a 20 minute bike ride away. Might be good exercise, and getting to ride through town twice a day will keep us up on the local events. But we better not forget something, or it will be a long ride back for Kerry.
Next post we will add some more pictures. Something nice and warm to make the New Englanders really jealous :P.
Well, we made it. I was literally bouncing in my seat with excitement as our Delta flight landed in Roaton and I saw the turquoise water and the verdant landscape. We sailed through customs and made it past the throngs of limo, taxi, and shuttle bus drivers to our prearranged rendezvous with Captain Angelo, the pilot and owner of Island Airlines who would fly us to Utila. We knew we were on island time when he told us to have a drink because we had to wait an hour for the next flights from the States to arrive.
Angelo was great. We had a nice long chat about planes, retiring to the Caribbean, and the hazards of international business ownership. Soon, the other passengers arrived and we were ready for our ten minute flight to Utila. It was a full flight and, while Roger was in the lap of luxury in the co-pilot’s seat, I was in the back of the plane with no window and both our carry-ons (about 50 lbs of backpack) on my lap. But I’ll take ten minutes in a safe plane with a great pilot (cramped though it may have been) over an hours long ferry ride any day.
We landed on a tiny airstrip and were met by a van. We loaded our ridiculously massive amount of luggage, climbed in the van, and got our first tour of Utila. In the ten minutes it took to get to our home for the next six weeks, I started to think, “Oh God, did we make a huge mistake?!”
Utila is as advertised: a small island off the coast of Honduras. “Town,” so far as I can tell, is about a mile long string of shops, restaurants, and bars. We are in a lovely house with lovely owners who live upstairs (evidently, they were on House Hunters International so you either can or will be able to see them, but I haven’t been able to find it). We started to unpack and then headed out into town to pick up some groceries, see about setting up some dives, and eat some dinner.
We walked down the beach and where I should have been paying attention to the beautiful water, I was seeing the plastic trash that accumulates at the high tide line and dreading the first vicious bite of a no-see-um or sand flea. We got to town and I was too timid to eat at any of the first five places we passed. I was starving, having not eaten since breakfast, and tired and hot and sticky . . . Roger finally made an executive decision, he turned down an alley (the whole time I was saying are you sure, they don’t seem open, should we even be here?) and marched me up a set of stairs to a restaurant the name of which we still don’t know.
What we know is we watched the sunset, drank rum drinks, and ate tasty garlic shrimp. I started seeing things in a new light.
Even better, on the way home, we passed a field full of flickering fireflies who were only surpassed by the starry night sky.
