The Stings

Yesterday morning Eric and I got up early to snorkel in a beautifully quiet, crystal clear ocean that hadn't yet been touched by the day's boats and swimmers. Unfortunately, it was a colder day than usual, with the wind blowing pretty hard making the usual still water bumpy with little waves.

We headed out anyway, in hopes of seeing the brilliant green moray eel we had seen a couple days before, along with my friends Mr. Bojangles and Sr. Barracuda. We were in the water for less than 2 minutes before I felt the first few little burns on my arms and legs. They were short-lived stinging sensations, just enough to make me kick my legs or wave my arms. We continued forth only to find that not only was the visibility not very good, but our little bay was full of tiny dime-sized jellyfish. The further we swam the more stings we felt. Eric even got stung on the mouth, not once, not twice, but three times! It was enough to make the most adventurous and tough snorkelers swim as fast as possible back to the beach.

After discussing our experience with some locals we learned that the "West Wind" ALWAYS blows in the jellyfish. Thanks a lot for the warning!

We decided to spend the rest of our day hiking in the gorgeous botanical gardens instead of being stung by mini jellyfish. The hike was hot and humid, but absolutely beautiful. Along with the fabulous flora, we also saw a number of cool lizards and a large rodent thing with round ears and brown fur. We got a few bug bites, but they were nothing compared to the thousand little stings of those jellyfish!

The Egggarbageeater

A few days ago I was with some of the people from the hospital and we decided to have lunch at our favorite baleada place in the town near the hospital. Granted, the baleadas (made of thick tortillas, refried red beans, cheese and whatever else you like) are delicious, but the place itself is certainly not up to any countries health standards. It is just downright filthy. But the price (cheaper than cheap) and quality of the food somehow allow the patrons to turn a blind eye.

On that particular day it was difficult to turn a blind eye to the large furry animal that walked through the restaurant with a ring-striped tail. I got very excited, thinking that I was seeing one of the island's rare anteaters. Not knowing the word for anteater in Spanish, I asked the waiter if that animal "eats ants". "No, he eats eggs and garbage", was the reply. Oh. An Egggarbageeater, huh?

The word he used for the animal was Pizote, which after much google searching I discovered to mean Coatie. The same animals that Eric and I had seen at Iguazu Falls in Argentina. Not quite as exciting as an anteater, but perhaps a close second.

The Best Meal. Ever.

Last night, Eric's first night in Roatan, we got invited by one of the locals that I have become friends with, Kevin, to join him and his family for dinner. Kevin had gotten up early that morning to catch some fresh lobster (for the authorities that may be reading, Kevin was unable to locate any lobster on the Marine Reserve).

So, at his house, we are treated to a spectacular meal of lobster soup (made with the heads of the lobster, sweet plantains, potatoes and a fabulous mix of spices and coconut milk) and grilled lobster tail that puts the boiled lobster we had in Maine to shame. Soaking in an incredible roasted garlic butter sauce that was so tasty we all wanted to lick the plate afterwards.

What a perfect introduction to this paradise for Eric!

The Surprise

Thursday was just like any other day. I went to work in the morning at the hospital, came home, laid in the sun for a few minutes before snorkeling (thank you, Mr. BoJangles, Sr. Barracuda and new friend, Harry, the octopus, for allowing me to see you), laying on the beach for a bit longer and then showering at my apartment before heading out for the night. But, on this particular Thursday, an odd thing happened. I received a text message from Eric, who was supposed to get in on Sunday, asking me where I was. "Roatan, duh!", I thought, before another few seconds passed and I thought "does he mean where on Roatan? Could he somehow be here now?! No way."

Way. He was here. From about 1 p.m. until 5 p.m. (the whole time I was on the beach and snorkeling just a few feet from him) he had been sitting in the Palapa Bar (Sundowners) across the street from my apartment. How had we not seen each other?

What a wonderful surprise. It is spectacular to have him here. He is now a guest writer on this blog, so you will hear from both us (and see if I really am doing this place justice with my posts). And in his less than 24 hours here, he has already adjusted quickly to the island lifestyle and knows everyone on our end of the island!

Yeah, I guess it's alright.

You know, if you're into things like spending your first couple hours hanging out in a Palapa Bar 10 feet from a crystal clear tropical bay before being invited to a local's house for homemade lobster soup and grilled lobster tails with garlic butter (Lobsters that were, of course, pulled off the reef just that morning by the chef). If you like that kind of thing, this place is passable. Then of course you could always supplement that with things like snorkling for hours on end with the barracuda (Senor Barracuda apparently), sea turtles (Mr. Bojangles and friend) and a huge electric green moray eel (Murray). Or crashing a wedding reception and immeditaley being welcomed into the festivities. After, of course, saying hi to all the people you met at said Palapa Bar because, yes, they're there too. And yes, they all act like you've known them for years. In the unlikely case that you're into these things then, sure, I'd recommend Roatan. Let us know if you're planning a trip here because we'll probably be living here. Lobster soup anyone?

Snorkeling Karma

I must have stored up a lot of good snorkeling karma in my lifetime, and I think I spent it all today.

Today was the best snorkeling experience I have ever had.

It was actually a terrible day for snorkeling. The water was murky and rough, so that the crystal clear visibility that I am used was reduced drastically. It must be a cruise ship day (cruise ships come into Roatan about 2 days a week completely populating the island with tourists who just drop money in their path) because there were many more boats cruising in and out of my little peaceful bay than usual. I have realized that although I may be scared of big fish, that fear is nothing compared to the fear of being hit by a boat while snorkeling. And finally, my magical trick of smearing Palmolive dish soap on my mask to prevent fogging only seemed to work on one side so I had to stop frequently to clear my mask. The foggy right side with the murky water seemed like a sure guarantee of a terrible snorkeling day.

The other resident (who is also a third year resident at a Childrens Hospital in California (Fresno) doing a rotation in Roatan, but who aside from all of that has very, very precious little in common with me) asked me to go out to West Bay to snorkel with her today. West Bay is gorgeous. It is about a 45 minute walk from our place (or a cheap 15 minute water taxi ride). The difference between Half Moon Bay (where I am in West End) and West Bay is like the difference of getting Italian food from the Olive Garden and from a high end Italian restaruant in Italy. Seriously. West Bay is that great. So why don't I go there every chance I get?!

For a number of reasons, but mainly that I didn't feel like spending a lot of time with this person who finds a way to complain about the increible free accomodation we have on a tropical island. Also, the beauty in West Bay is so in your face and obvious. Half Moon Bay feels like it needs to be explored - has ground yet to be uncovered. And finally Half Moon Bay is literally 10 steps away from our apartment.

So, with all of this background now in place, let me tell you about the snorkeling experience. I will warn you that the only thing that seems to do the experience justice is a string of profanities. It was amazing (insert your own profanities at will as adjectives). Within 3 minutes of my murky, foggy, boat dodging swim I saw a huge Permit Fish (see picture above). So huge that it had a little carrier fish sucking on its side. I have never seen a fish like that before (I actually thought it was a Sun Fish at first, but after a quick consultation with my friend Mr. Google, I realized I was wrong). I did my usual snorkel out to the dock to say hello to the barracuda that hangs out there (Senor Barracuda, to which I always politely request he not swim too quickly in my direction), then headed out to the sunken submarine (a failed project of some crazy American who had an obsession of submarines and decided to move out here and build them), then out to the buoy where the boats leave to the open water. (You can actually see the dock and if you squint & look far out in the middle of the photo you can see the buoy, too, in the photo under the post "The Relaxation".)

I will admit that I go to the dock and the buoy everytime in search of sea turtles. I have heard of people seeing them in these locations, but in my 2.5 weeks had not seen them. Seeing a sea turtle became a new obsession for me. I saw one on the surface of the water while I was fishing, but that's not the same. My sea turtle obsession is very similar to my moose obsession while exploring the North East of the U.S. I was so desperate to see a moose that I think I made Eric and I drive at least 100 miles out of our way. We never saw one. I thought the same would go for the sea turtles of Roatan.

I swam from the sunken submarine (which always has fun surprise fish playing Jack-In-the-Box inside and out) out to the buoy, around the back side and all the way over to the west side of the beach. I saw 2 other Permit Fish and a ton of other HUGE fish. I figured that murky, rough water must attract the large fish. I saw enormous versions of the fish that I see everyday (Parrot fish, some ugly brown ones that hang out at the bottom, angel fish, etc) as well as new huge schools of big fish, that I can only describe as looking like large tuna with a beautiful blue stripe down their sides.

On my way back I stopped by the buoy again to check for turtles and headed back to the submarine. I saw a burst of sand in the distance, and swam towards it. There, on the bottom, was a glorious bat ray. It showed me its peaceful way of gliding through the water and I paddled after it in complete awe.

After a while I headed back to the dock and there, stairing up at me as if he had been waiting for me to get there all day was a large, docile sea turtle (I assume his name to be Mr. Bojangles). Mr. Bojangles looked at me gasping at him from the surface, opened his mouth a couple of times and then gently swam off. I followed him, too for a while, straight to the site of another bat ray.

Incredible!! (Remeber to insert the profanities for emphasis of how amazing this all was). I could compose my own version of a Partridge in a Pear Tree, with the ending being 3 Permit Fish, 2 Batty Rays and a Bojangle Sea Turtle. The whole experience made me wish that I had made finding World Peace or a Million Dollars in Half Moon Bay, Roatan, my latest obsession. Who knows? Now maybe it will be.

The Town of West End

I am living in West End, the SCUBA diving and snorkeling capital of Roatan. It is gorgeous. The town is small and quaint. Above is a picture of some of the brightly colored shacks that pose as restaurants, shops, internet cafes, bars, etc. It is the cutest thing a town could do - be made of tiny little wooden shacks all brightly colored and filled with friendly townsfolk. They are like little beads strung together to made a stunning necklace for the beautiful face of the ocean.

The nightlife is also very vibrant. With dollar beer nights 2 nights a week, an 80s night on Thursdays, and an amazing live band (seriously, I would pay a lot to see these guys in the States - where they are from - but instead I get to enjoy them for free) on Tuesdays and Fridays . . . well, it leaves for very few nights with nothing to do.