Stranded on an Island during the COVID-19 Crisis!

Mainland Honduras seen from the south side of Utila. Woe is me, right?

I write this while I wait, sitting in a jury-rigged airport terminal in Roatan, Honduras; a solution the Honduran government has made to address flying out foreigners during total lockdown.

I’ve been living here in the Bay Islands for the past two months, completing my PADI Divemaster certification on the Island of Útila. At 17 square miles, Útila is a blip on the radar. It’s the smallest of the Honduran ‘Bay Islands’ - a set of three islands located 30-odd miles north of the mainland. Utila’s bigger sisters are Roatan and Guanaja. Each island has a distinctly different personality: Roatan with her established resorts and beaches attracts cruise ships, families, and the well-to-do type. Guanaja is rocky, almost mountainous affair and plays host to private homes and little else. Útila is primarily known for having the most affordable and well-known dive training in the Caribbean. It’s a paradise for the young backpacking crowd that frequents it; the cheap accommodation, food & fun plus amazing access to world-class diving just can’t be beaten. Tying it all together is the community feeling brought on by the dive-bum lifestyle shared by all. My typical day during training looked something like this:

06:30 - Wake up

07:00 - Walk to the Marina & load up a dive boat with 30-40 tanks

07:30 - Assemble my dive kit and slam an egg & avocado ‘Baleada’, a typical Honduran meal.

08:00 - Diving! Two tanks a trip, a 3-4 hour commitment.

11:30 - Wash my kit with freshwater and return to the marina to unload empty tanks.

13:00 - Lunch, typically dining out, spending an average of $3-4 per meal.

14:00 - Theory classes or ticking off other divemaster requirements. Maybe a second dive!

17:00 - Sunset beers and ‘pastilitos’ - imagine an empanada with a pastry-puff crust

20:00 - Dinners, bars, and the like.

Most dive boats were larger, all had puns in the name.

Doing this for a month straight was challenging and just plain fun. Days were long and full of fulfillment, with life. Weeks passed like they were nothing. Any event that took place more than a couple of days ago felt ancient. I got really comfortable diving, actually, I was amazed by how casual it became. I learned practical skills and dive theory, racking up 70+ dives in the process. It took me five weeks to go from an Advanced Open Water Diver to Divemaster.

A quick note on baleadas - I was surprised by the popularity of this simple yet satisfying dish during my time on Utila. I had not seen it in Central America prior to Honduras. In its essential form, a baleada starts as a hearty foundation of refried bean paste and cheese applied to one side of a warm, hand-flatted tortilla, which is then folded in half. This basic version costs about 10-15 Lempira ($0.50). I found that the baleada truly shone when loaded up with egg, avocado, and pickled veggies; increasing the price to $1.50.

The boat-set up board dictated how many tanks went to which boat.

COVID-19 + Island Life?

The COVID-19 virus snuck up on us here in the Islands. It started with bits and pieces of information flowing through social media and the island rumor mill. We heard about Italy first, and before we knew it the virus had become a worldwide pandemic. On March 15th, Honduras went into full lockdown: no one was to come in or out of the country, all airports and ports of entry were closed for two full weeks. We were given almost no prior notice to the lockdown, and what I did hear I initially dismissed as rumor or speculation.

Upon the announcement of lockdown, the whole island changed. Dive shops, bars, and restaurants ceased operations; a curfew was set and enforced by a new wave of military police. The only time we were allowed out on the streets was between 10 AM-1 PM, and only for essential travel like work, food, or power. The supply boats from the mainland that the island relies on continued to run, providing us with fresh food and gasoline to keep the lights on.

Pre-lockdown. Rent in my 2-BR apartment was only $150 a person, per month!

It felt like the island was yawning.

The mechanical roar of tuk-tuks and motorbikes vanished, their place taken by the rush of wind and chatter of the birds. The turquoise water of the bay revealed shocking clarity as the boats usually churning up her waters listed tiredly at the dock. The world moved slower, days passed quickly, weeks took forever. There had been no positive cases of COVID-19 on the island, and the sun still shone fiercely off the bay.

I spent these days in relative solitude; setting up couch cushions on the balcony, passing time reading & writing in the tropical breeze. One might say that there are worse places to be stuck during a global pandemic.

A fleet of Tuk-Tuks like the one above stood in for traditional taxi’s on the narrow streets of Utila.

Returning Home

Eventually, I got sick of the isolation, of the free time. I was also literally sick, with a considerable ear infection so bad that I temporarily lost hearing in my right ear. This was scary, gross and really poorly-timed, but I recovered well thanks to the medical center’s doctors and a dose of antibiotics.

Ultimately, I made the decision to return to the U.S. for a couple of reasons. On the practical side, I would much rather be in the states at home if this crisis continues to develop and get worse. At home, I have access to superior infrastructure and care. Who knows what could happen in mainland Honduras? What if the supply boats stopped coming? On the figurative side, I was ready to come home and to see my family. I’ve been living out of a backpack for five months, and I really miss real cheese.

I conclude this passage from my desk at home in Bethesda, Maryland. It might have taken me 19 hours, but I made it home! My family is practicing social distancing, so the reunion lacked the hugs and kisses a traditional homecoming usually calls for. It was still wonderful arriving home to my parents, brother, and dog. I look forward to the coming days of family, work and catching up with friends (digitally of course).

Stay safe and healthy out there!

Cheers and HOLD-FAST!

Ben Soofer