“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she says. “And I’m not drinking tonight,” I reply, tipping my half-full glass of rum and pineapple towards her. “To the lies of Roatan!” A clink of glasses and we drink. The soft glow of Christmas lights encircling a palm tree casts her face in a stunning juxtaposition of gold and shadows. My eyes trace the contour of her face, mentally absorbing the image of her delicate features, willing my mind to embalm this moment in the timeless formaldehyde of memory. Our gazes lock. The glimmer of the beachside bonfire dances in her dark eyes. In a glance, we tacitly acknowledge the waning hours. Say ‘goodbye’, I remind myself.

Preface: This article stems from an political discussion I was having with four buddies via email while on my brief sojourn to the States. It was never intended to be published on my website, but upon further review I believe that it adequately introduces one of my most passionate and controversial beliefs: the death of nationalism. If you disagree with the content, that’s cool, I won’t take it personally. After all, an opinion is like a butt: everyone has one, and most stink. Of Rights, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness Let me accentuate the beauty of this discussion: we are four (now five) people capable of arguing the goods and bads of American government is evidence that our individual » read more «

My wetsuit is at waist-level as I hear the cries for help. Darting across the dirt road towards Half Moon Bay beach, I scan the dock, the beach, and the water for the source of the shouts of distress. A handful of people stand on the dock, pointing excitedly at two figures struggling on the surface some two hundred meters offshore, their bodies bobbing in and out of sight amidst the rolling waves. My coworkers are charging down the dock. This is the real deal. I’ve been here before. With forty-seven PADI Rescue Diver certifications under my belt, I’ve simulated this situation at least as many times, but the level-headedness with which I execute my training scenarios is quickly usurped » read more «

According to this article on Deep-Sea News, I unknowingly filmed the world’s oldest animal a year ago. Sweeping silently along the silty slopes 1400ft under the Caribbean Sea off Roatan, Honduras, Karl Stanley piloted his deep diving submarine Idabel upon a writhing mass of brittle stars entangled around the brilliant golden lattice of gold coral. My meager five megapixel camera did its best to capture the alien bundle of deep sea life, oblivious to the fact that the gold coral I was filming is over 2000 years old. Turn down the audio… I never edited this video, so the white noise of the submarine is a bit blown out. Read more about the amazingly ancient gold corals at Deep-Sea News…