Roatan is the largest of the three Bay Islands of Honduras, located in the Northwest Caribbean Sea. It is shaped like an airfoil, approximately 40 miles long, with mountains down the middle and surrounded almost totally by coral reefs. Population is reportedly 35,000 people, but I can't believe that--a lot of them must be hiding out!

Because Roatan lies between the other two Bay Islands, Guanaja and Utila, it is usually not the first stop for cruisers to the Bay Islands. However, most end up there, eventually, because it has the most "amenities". Although The Bay Islands are usually considered a stopping-off point for those on the way to or from Panama or Columbia, there are a surprising number of cruisers who stay year 'round, come back every year, or "run aground" (buy land or houses).

Guanaja is the most common stop for those boats coming up from Panama or Columbia on their way to the Northwesr Caribbean. Utila, on the other hand, is usually the first stop from those coming from the Rio Dulce in Guatemala or from Belize on their way down to the Panama Canal. And occasionally people try to go directly to Roatan from either Turneffe or Lighthouse Reefs in Belize. We discovered personally why this last route is not highlighted in any of the cruising books. Friends who had cruised the area for years said it could be done; they just couldn't remember the time of year that was best to try.

In March, we attempted to make it straight to the West End of Roatan from Turneffe Reef. We waited over a week for weather, but then we reached that "have to go ANYWAY" point. We had to leave so that Mike could catch a flight back to Houston and work. Apparently March is NOT the time of year to try that route. With time, winds, currents, and a bad cutlass bearing working against us, we had to go the "flexible cruiser route" and ended up in Guatemala instead. It wasn't until June 4 that we finally left the Rio Dulce behind. While we were on the hard, we heard via the Northwest Caribbean Net on SSB that a number of boats had made it across both ways between the Bay Islands and the Rio in either light or no wind, or in record time in perfect winds. Of course all those conditions changed the day we decided to leave.

As soon as we headed one direction, the wind would shift so that it was on the nose, getting stronger by the hour. So instead of arriving at Utila in less than 20 hours, we diverted to Puerto Cortez, Honduras, arriving 11+ hours after leaving Livingston, Guatemala. We were the only boat in the protected anchorage just a couple hundred feet from shore. We decided not to check in as it was after hours and we did not want to pay any overtime charges. Besides, we didn't have any of the local currency and the banks were closed. We had heard how dirty and crime-ridden Puerto Cortez was, but from the water it was beautiful, and the water so clear we jumped in and splashed around for almost an hour. This was a major treat after being in the not-so-sweet Rio Dulce for so long. The sunset was also spectacular and made all the beating to windward ALMOST worthwhile.

The next morning we left at sunrise (around 5 am down here) with fairly flat seas and light winds. Within two hours, the winds picked up, as usual, on the nose. So instead of heading straight to Utila, again, we made another detour along the mainland coast of Honduras. By 11 a.m., we were anchored in one of the most beautiful spots we had found in our year in the Northwest Caribbean, Puerto Escondido (Hidden Port). [description from Nigel Calder]. There was plenty of room for JOURNEY and the other three boats already anchored there. We swam over to the nearest boat to say hi and discovered that it was WILD GOOSE, who had been buddy boating earlier with friends of ours from Ft. Worth, COMO NO?. We later dinghied over to the dark sand beach that totally surrounded the little bay. Puerto Escondido has no village or town, just sand and jungle, with a couple of conservation signs in Spanish describing trees and animals that can occasionally be seen there. . We could hear howler monkeys, but we didn't see them. However, the cruisers on the other two boats, PILAR II and ARENAS, had seen some while hiking through the jungle beyond the beach earlier in the morning. We did see parrots and numerous lizards/iguanas of various kinds, in particular one locally called "monkey lala", which runs on its hind two legs and looks a lot like a miniature escapee from Jurassic Park. We also discovered insects by the hundreds, including the usual mosquitoes, ticks, and some unseen but definitely felt species of no-see-ums called jejenes (hey-HEY-neys) here. But the beach and jungle next to the emerald water screamed "Central American Paradise", so we covered ourselves with insect repellent and continued our walk. The boys braved a mass attack by kamikaze mosquitoes to break through the jungle to Laguna Diamante, another secure anchorage mentioned by Nigel Calder. The laguna is entered further along the coast, and being much bigger than Puerto Escondido, is considered a good hurricane hole for cruisers caught in storms in that area. But, according to the intrepid explorers, it didn't hold a candle to the beauty and serenity of Puerto Escondido.

Although we were tempted to extend our stay, as almost every cruiser who entered does, we decided to leave at night to take advantage of the calmer winds and waters. We napped and then woke up about 11:30 p.m. to haul up the anchor. However, unlike the past few nights, the wind had NOT laid down and waves were crashing quite loudly and aggressively against the two big rocks guarding the entrance. So we slept a little longer and finally about 1 a.m., the wind quieted and the almost full moon was high in the sky. We slipped out easily and headed to Utila. We hand steered for a couple of hours, motor sailing, because the seas were still fairly strong and high. Finally, I was able to convince Mike that Arnold, our autopilot, could handle the situation just fine, and sent him on down below to sleep. I prefer doing night watches, especially when there is good moon. Usually I will plug in a book-on-tape and I am set for at least three hours. Mike, on the other hand, is always on the lookout for that extra tenth of a knot, so when HE is on watch, he trims sails. Which means that at night, his harness tether clanks, bangs, and slams as he moves back and forth from the cockpit to the mast. Which means, I can't sleep anyway, so that's why I do night watches.

As usual the winds rose out of the east and JOURNEY started doing her funny little "I don't WANT to beat so I will shudder to a dead stop and hang out on this wave for a minute before I decide to go forward" dance. So far I have never gotten seasick during our cruising days, even in severe squalls or rough crossings like the Yucatan Channel. But after daylight, the up-slam-wiggle-stop-down-shake business made me queasy and I broke down and took a Phenegran and drank a Coke. Pretty soon I was too sleepy to notice the gyrations. We had to stay on an easterly course though, as there are submerged reefs all along the 16-degree North line to the south of Utila. We diligently stayed below this line as friends of ours had returned to the Rio for $40,000 worth of repairs after straying above during a nighttime squall and paying the consequences. Finally, about 9 hours into this leg, we turned north, and by 12:30 p.m., we anchored in 12 feet of water in the harbor at Puerto Este, Utila.

The wind blew between 20-30 knots every day and night for the next week, so we just stayed put, going into town in the evenings to buy "baleadas"--sort of like a burrito, made with soft flour tortillas, refried beans, viniagrette onions, and powered cheese. Two women competively sold them on opposite corners of the main street. Utila is very low to the sea with only one "bump" in the terrain, Pumpkin Hill, which really does look like a pumpkin from offshore. It is the cheapest island to visit and therefore has the largest number of "backpacker" and budget travellers/divers. It has fantastic reefs and now has as many as 50 dive shops all competing for the tourista dollars. So if you want to go take diving lessons and get a tan during the winter, Utila is the place to go. You can get PADI or NAUI training in all levels up through instructor level for as little as $100. The going rate for dives in June was $25 for 2 boat dives or $100 for 10. Compare this to Roatan where the dives are $20-25 EACH. And there are several dive sites only minutes from the dock, just as in Roatan.

The wind finally died down and we took off for Roatan--of course the wind switched around to be on the nose, but it was still a nice day and so we just zigged and zagged until we got close to the West End. We then contacted friends on RAINBOW CHASER and they talked us in through the cut in the reef to enter Half Moon Bay in the area known as West End. There were about 20 or so boats already anchored there, some we knew from the Rio Dulce, some just as voices over the SSB NW Caribbean Cruisers' Net. We had finally arrived in Roatan.

I had been warned about "sticker shock" in Roatan, but it hit hard the evening we arrived. We decided to celebrate by having dinner ashore. People who know what a tightwad I am can imagine how I took the news that even local fare was 5-6 TIMES more expensive than on Utila! And all the divers wandering the little dirt street were PAYING! I really got irate when Mike paid 80 lempira for a chicken salad sandwich for lunch one day--that's $6.00, and it was chicken from a can, of which I had several on the boat. We stayed a week, because once again the winds kicked up and we couldn't leave. One night the wind switched around several times. The next day I spent over an hour in scuba gear untwining the two anchor lines. But at least they held! And it was pleasant, temperature wise, with the nice breeze--and our batteries enjoyed the constant input from the wind generator. It often got up to 30 knots and I would get up several times a night to make sure we weren't dragging. One night it blew our anchor light off its mount--we found the wires dangling in the water the next morning. And it never rained. So we would dinghy our cans in to one of the dive shops where some of the cruisers worked to build up their cruising kitty. Of course when I went on dives, I used that shop. As another cruiser said, "The fresh water shower sure is expensive, but the free dive you get with it is great". Finally, we decided we had to head around the island to the south side where the marinas were located, so we could get me settled somewhere before Mike had to return to the States to work.

The first attempt began at 6 am. Some people had left the day before and it was almost dead calm. Of course on the day WE left, although it started calm, it got wild and wooly just as we rounded the corner of the island. We were heading to a funky little marina we had only heard about, Oak Ridge. After 6 hours we had only made it to French Harbor, about 1/2 way there, and a squall hit. Some boats tried to talk us in through the reef but the wind kicked up the waves on the reef so high that we could not find the break or see the alleged bouys marking the entrance. So we head back to the next entrance, Brick Bay. But it is a very narrow entrance and again we could not see the "sticks" which mark the edge of the reef. So going further back the way we came, we tried to get into the fairly open area in front of Coxen Hole, the capital of the Bay Islands. Unfortunately, we had to go past it to avoid a reef and shoal. As we turned back to enter, the wind pushed us toward the beach and we could not get in. So we went back around the corner, and after 9 hours, arrived back in Half Moon Bay.

We decided to take a bus trip around the island to spot entrances from the land side and also check out the marinas. I am glad we did! Oak ridge was only 5 slips and just a little too open to the weather for Mike's comfort.. French Harbor was too expensive and was having ownership problems which had resulted in having their phones and electricity cut off. There is a marina at Fantasy Island Resort but it costs above and beyond anything we would consider paying, not to mention that it is fairly open too. That left Brick Bay. We had not considered it at first, because there had recently been a rape and some robberies there. But it offered great protection from weather. It turned out there were two marinas in the little bay. One gets more breeze but has no amenities to speak of; the other, a former CSY marina, is attached to a dive resort, with a giant swimming pool, dive boats, restaurant, bar, showers, bathroom, and night watchman. The attack had occurred at the other marina. And the resort one was cheaper. HMMM. Had to think real hard about that one. Yes we are side to, and there are mangroves and LOTS of "jejenes" (sand flies that BITE) and mosquitoes, but I have screens and electricity for fans! So we decided on Brick Bay Resort/Marina.

A few days later, we again took of on a calm morning. And again we got kicked in the teeth as we rounded the corner. And again we fought the rain and wind. This time our chart even ripped in two from getting hit not only with rain but waves splashing into the cockpit. But it was milder than the last time, and we had seen where the buoys were supposed to be, so we took deep breaths and with Mike standing in the rigging yelling orders I couldn't really hear, I headed in on a bearing given to us by other cruisers. I just watched the depth gauge and listened with less than full attention to Mike's monologue. The channel between the two very close reefs is 60 feet deep and it never went higher. Just as I got through though, there was an inner reef (and a great dive site) off a little cay. So when Mike began jumping up and down on the ratline and gesticulating wildy, I correctly assumed I should make a sharp turn to port. We came in very close to a former live-aboard dive boat (now someone's houseboat), the Isla Mia, and headed on into the inner bay. I turned her around and put her gently up against the dock that had some space. We had finally arrived at our true "hurricane season" home. We planned to stay there until at least January, maybe even through to April. Mike congratulated me on my beautiful entrance and parking job and then we went to pay the rent. We had met some of our new neighbors on our "land cruise" and made the rounds, tried out the new showers (no hot water, but this is the tropics, who wants hot water anyway?), made dinner and watched satellite TV in the resort's TV room before crashing. Now THIS is what I had been looking for in a place where I would have to be alone while Mike was gone to work. Not only does it have all these amenities, it is located just a little ways off the main road to the two major towns on the island, Coxen Hole and French Harbor. It is a short bus ride in either direction to a supermarket and people! This was about 99% better than being in the Rio Dulce. And this is where I am.

I must admit I have not had to stay on the boat all the time. I befriended some of the people who live in the Colonia above Brick Bay and offered my services as a housesitter. The word has spread and I have sat houses all over the island, which has given us a chance to check out other areas that we might want to buy land in. Just thinking, but we have met a lot of cruisers here who have become "grounded"-- and we might join them.