I’m sitting on a dock looking out across a rippling Caribbean Sea, the reflection of the turquoise sky and white clouds rippling like an oil spill over the aquamarine lagoon of Half Moon Bay. The usual bustle of tourist traffic is more subdued today, as Sundays are typically “transition days”— that crucial gasp of fresh air and solitude when before the insane fumes of the next Continental flight descends on the inept slab of concrete known as Roatan International Airport (RTB). A kayaker cascades across the bay, leaving perfect V-shaped cuts across the endless lap of waves. A dive tube extends in a far corner of the bay, marking another Coconut Tree Divers PADI Open Water Course in session. Local » read more «

If there was an Razzie for Worst Performance as an Internet Service Provider, Hondutel would take home the Golden Raspberry. I’ve been without internet access for over three weeks, and it’s not just me. All of Hondutel’s customers on Roatan have been broken down on the side of the Information Superhighway.

For a scuba diver, there is never enough time. Time is why we watch our bottom timers closely, diving within limits to avoid the unfortunate side-effects of defying evolution. Time is why we purchase computers, tracking our nitrogen exposure against those ever-ticking no-decompression limits. Time is why we invest in nitrox-capable tank compressors, why we spend hours learning enriched air dive planning, why we take the additional trouble to analyze our fills: for those precious extra minutes of hovering, blissfully, alongside a massive wreck ten stories beneath the waves. Time is why we will hang on a decompression line in the open blue for far more minutes than we just spent swimming alongside the wreck of the Josie J at » read more «