You Need This Hoseclamps?

So one of the things I have been learning is how to conduct business island-style.

Everything here is complicated by our remoteness and our lack of telephony. We actually possess two cell phones, which is great, in theory. In reality, the two cell phones only work if you stand in a certain three-foot-square area near the window in the office, the winds are low, there are few clouds, and Venus is aligned with Jupiter under a waxing moon. So we often have to be creative.

We recently were informed by Luven, our marine mechanic, that we needed to purchase new hose clamps to connect the fuel lines of the fishing skiffs to the fuel containers. So on our next trip down island (which is its own story in inefficiency), we searched high and low, but none of the marine supply shops had hose clamps.

“That’s OK,” said Luven. “You can order them from La Ceiba.”

La Ceiba is on the mainland, which is within calling distance of anyone with a cell phone that works. Ours, of course, wouldn’t. So we e-mailed Lagoon Marine.

Lagoon Marine indeed did have hose clamps, but Rita, the owner, was unsure which kind we needed. There were no parts numbers or size specifications, so we weren’t sure. Lagoon Marine has no Web site to consult, and there is no parts book. We went back and forth with Rita via e-mail, but we couldn’t figure out if the clamps she had were the correct parts. We were at a loss. But then Rita had an idea. She e-mailed us this photo:


Yes! Those are the hose clamps we need!

Now we had to figure out how to get them here. We also have no postal service on Roatan. (“What?” says my mom. “I’ve never heard of such a thing!”) In fact, not a single road has a name for a postal service to navigate by, even if there was one. And we live in an area with no roads. So we have to send everything by ship or plane. We e-mailed Rita back and arranged for her to ship the hose clamps on the ferry.

A few days later, Rita informed us that the hose clamps were on their way. We got in the boat, rode to Oak Ridge, transferred to the minivan, drove down island, went to the ferry terminal, and secured possession of our elusive clamps.

But then we had to pay Rita. We wrote a check, stuffed it in an envelope, addressed it to Lagoon Marine, and gave it to the ferry shipping lady. She asked what it was. “A check,” said Kevin. This wouldn’t do. The ferry refused to handle checks.

So we drove further down island to the airport. There, we were able to send the check on the next island-hopper over to Rita.

We drove the minivan back to Oak Ridge, transferred to boat, rode home, and e-mailed Rita to go to the airport in La Ceiba for her payment. All was done.

Whew! The whole process took about two weeks, and we were quite relieved when it was over.

A few days later, Luven dropped by to work on the boats. We took him inside and proudly unveiled the hose clamps.

“What are those?” he asked.

“The hose clamps for the skiffs,” said Kevin.

“No,” Luven replied. “I said hose clips.”

This is business island-style.

Glowing Fishes and Island Wisdom

Last night, we had another wonderful surprise from Mother Nature. After dinner, Kevin and I went outside to see the moon again but found something even better. In the water just in front of the restaurant were small pools of glowing green swirls.

Yes, the picture sucks. (I already told you I don’t know how to work my camera.) But the effect was amazing.

The swirls were excretions from small fish that were all swimming in circles and drifting across the water on the tide. The next day, I asked Miguel, one of our fishing guides, what they were. He said they were fry, which is what the islanders call all little fish, it seems. So that wasn’t much help. But he also said that it was a sign that we would soon be rich (or poor, which is probably more likely the case).

The islanders have all kinds of local wisdom. Here are just a few they’ve shared since we’ve been here:

• If you walk barefoot on the floor, you’ll get a sore throat.
• If you get hot and then go for a swim, you’ll get a cold. (We have to plan the staff’s work around this one sometimes.)
• If it rains while the sun is shining, there will be an earthquake.
• If you see a glowing light in the woods, it is a duppy (ghost). If you see a light in the same spot three times, it is a duppy showing you where a pirate treasure is buried.

I am especially hoping the last one is true!

Goodnight Moon

In all the crazy, it’s easy to forget what an amazing place this is. Sometimes, however, Mother Nature stands up and forces you to take notice.


This is last night’s moonrise over the Cow and Calf, two small islands just off shore from the lodge. Beautiful.

Come and Knock on Our Door …

Last week, we received our first personal guest in Roatan: our dear friend Joe. It was quite appropriate, really. Joe has lived in Africa most of his life, and until 5 years ago, none of his overseas friends had ever come to visit him. Kevin and I were his first guests. Now he is ours.

Joe thinks Roatan is swell.

This isn’t Joe’s first time on the island. Three years ago, while Kevin and I were visiting our friends Matt and Corrine next door, Joe scooted over from El Salvador (where he was visiting friends) to spend a few days with us. We met him down island and rented a place in West Bay to have a little fun. However, it was in the middle of a tropical storm, and it rained buckets. We only left our house to eat and get beer.

This time, we did a little better. We fished (with no luck) and snorkeled (much better), but mostly, we just hung out and caught up. And got destroyed by bugs. But it didn’t rain.

Happy Birthday, Honduras-Style

Today is the birthday of Dalia, one of the cooks. She is 21. For the past three weeks, Dalia has made a production of her upcoming birthday. She insisted numerous times that she didn’t want anyone to know that her birthday was coming (which meant, of course, that she did).

The reason Dalia didn’t want anyone to know her birthday was approaching was because of the way birthdays are celebrated in Honduras. In the States, your friends and family bake you cake, serve you ice cream, and sing a happy song for you. In Honduras, they make you a cake, quite literally. Dalia explained that, here, if it is your birthday, your friends and family throw eggs at your head (the number of eggs corresponds to your age) and then dump flour on you. Then they throw you in the water. Sounds like fun, I guess, unless you are the birthday boy or girl.

Last night, Kevin and Joe (our friend visiting from Africa) gave Dalia a wonderful Honduran birthday celebration, complete with eggs and flour. This morning, she took a dip with Sailor, the lodge dog, in an attempt to get the egg out. It was a mess.



Happy birthday, Dalia!

BJ's

In Denver, we were regulars at Tuesday and Friday happy hours at a neighborhood pub called Patrick Carroll’s (or, as we affectionately referred to it, PC’s). We loved catching up with our friends and neighbors and, sometimes, meeting new friends. In Port Royal, we have no such thing as a local pub or even a local tienda. In fact, there’s pretty much nothing here but our neighbors.

What we do have is a bit further away (about a 15-minute boat ride) in Oakridge. It’s BJ’s Backyard. We stop at BJ’s each time we go down island. In fact, it’s here where we transfer from boat to vehicle and vice versa. So we’re obligated to stop in and say hello and drink a Coke or beer each time we do so.

BJ’s is a lot like PC’s, in a way. We meet all sorts of friends and neighbors whenever we pop in, and we always meet a few new folks, too. We also refer to it by its initials.

Unlike PC’s, BJ’s is on the water, it has a parrot, and we never get to stay very long. Also unlike PC’s, no one at BJ’s is confused about which restroom to use. PC’s had signs outside the bathroom doors for “Lads” and “Lasses.” For some reason, a relatively large number of people had no idea what this meant. On more than one occasion, I encountered a stray man in the women’s room, and I saved many more on the brink of embarrassment and guided them to the correct destination. BJ’s also uses unorthodox signage, but no one here gets confused.

Bonus tidbit for the week:
Several employees asked for loans this week. All had some sort of reason that they explained in detail. The best was from Randy, who explained that he needed a loan to pay a doctor. It seems his son was bitten by a shark while swimming and had to go to the doctor for injections and general cleanup. Randy didn’t seem particularly concerned, so I’m not sure if it’s true. But what a great excuse!