“Where the H*LL is Roatan”. I couldn’t resist it. There we were, in one of the few up-scale souvenirs shops in Coxen Hole on the island of Roatan and I was looking at the inscription on a standard white coffee mug – suitable for bringing back home. Before the trip we had told friends and family we were off to Roatan, and without exception the response was always: “Roatan? Where is Roatan?” So, I just had to buy it.
Oh... where is Roatan? - A few miles off Honduras’ mainland, it’s part of the Bay Islands grouping made up of Roatan (the largest), Guanaja and Utila, both considerably smaller; and the Cayos Cochinos, a small group of keys barely above water. between Utila and Guanaja.
When we first happened on Roatan in the mid-90’s, it was a sleepy backwater known only to scuba divers looking to enjoy the second longest coral reef complex in the world. In fact, we were not originally planning to go to Roatan. I was looking for a new place to dive and was looking on-line at Belize and an ad popped up for Fantasy Island on Roatan, the reef looked so inviting, we changed our destination.
Anthony’s Key Resort, where we actually decided to stay, along the coast in Sandy Bay, was one of only three or four all-inclusive dive resorts scattered on this thirty-mile-long island shaped like a banana.
Back then, Coxen Hole, the main town, close by the airport, was a collection of narrow streets, poor, but not miserable… and that hasn’t changed with time. Here, it seems that every third house on every street is selling something, especially second-hand clothing from the States and Europe usually donated by groups who want to lift the poverty level and sidewalk vendors, selling fast foods of unknown provenance.
West End was the main tourist destination, with its one deeply rutted, axle-killer dirt road running along the seafront; dive shops on either side, interspersed with eateries, youth hostels, and a few low-impact cabana hotels. Every now and then the council would dump a load of dirt into the holes – in a week the holes were back.
West Bay Beach, the best on the island, was absolutely pristine - empty - accessible only by water taxi from West End. There was no road between West End and West Bay. At one time West Bay was voted one of the ten best beaches in the world. You could walk from one end to the other and not meet a soul – snorkel right off the beach amid myriad fish and plentiful, healthy coral. West End, 15-20 years ago used to be mainly a hang-out for young adults, a lot of it had to do with the diving industry which is so strong here. Almost like Hippie culture, but a late twentieth century variety. It’s still a funky mix of shanty town, elements of 1920/s Key West without the affluence, where Caucasians, native blacks and Rastas mix with wide-eyed cruise-shippers gingerly stepping around the puddles of water in the street every time it rains, occasionally stopping into the guest shops that line both sides of the street.
West Bay Beach
So, these days that vibe is still there, especially March Break time, but now there is a strong sprinkling of families and older people who have discovered Roatan, and prefer its laid-back groove – no high-rise hotels, no casinos, lots of nature. Cruise shippers come in three to four days a week, sometimes up to three ships at a time and flood Coxen Hole, West Bay and West End for a few hours.
More likely they’ll ultimately go back to the cruise ship docks and go to the pre-fabricated American-style town centre with its little Mall manufactured just for them … and if they are wealthy, step into the Diamonds International boutique and buy emeralds from South America or diamonds from South Africa, pearls from the Philippines.
In the intervening years, change has come to Roatan – something special has been lost, undiscovered no longer - but not to despair, the undiscovered bit still exists on Roatan, you just have to go a little farther to find it – the East End.
Today, the one main road has been extended from West End to West Bay, West End’s road in now concrete, Anthony’s has purchased bigger dive boats, and West End has a tiny Mall with six shops and nicer restaurants. The dive shops are still there, even more and the fruit-and-veggie trucks still come and park on the road looking for customers (although their prices have tripled, but they have wonderful fruit all ripe, sweet and yummy including the weird green oranges which are green on the outside, but orange and sweet on the inside.) West Bay Beach is fully built out with private homes, beach bars, beach cabanas and high-end condo complexes, from one end of the beach to the other.
Near French Harbor, an American-style Mall has opened with shops, banks, and a supermarket. The Clarion Chain now owns an upscale condo complex nearby, which includes Herby’s American-style Sports Bar and Pineapple Grill and also close by is the Pristine Bay resort complex sporting the Black Pearl golf-course, a Pete Dye design. Mucho dinaros will buy you a condo here.
Five, count them, five zip-line and aerial jungle walk attractions have proliferated to complement the Iguana Farm, Carambola Botanical Gardens and the Butterfly Farm which had been there since forever. Beach bars have proliferated at West Bay.
You don’t go to Roatan looking for casinos, à la Curaçao, or for extensive night-life and entertainment. There is little. There are no Cancun-style high-rise resort developments or expensive shopping malls. You go for the one world-class beach, West Bay Beach, one kilometer of pure white sand, gently, and I mean gently, slopping into the Sea – no crashing waves with undertow here.
Roatan: think laid-back holiday. Bring a couple of books, visit Coxen Hole and French Harbor or more, do some souvenir shopping, look for ‘yaba ding dings’ in the shops, drink some Salva Vida Beer ($2). Bargain with the taxi drivers, strike up a conversation with the local expatriate community (think Provincetown circa 1960), fantasize about spending six months of the year here.
Yes, Camp Bay and Paya Bay are still there at the East End of the island – near the end of the road, as pristine and untouched as it was in 1995. Rent a 4X4 (the only way to go) and drive east along the one paved road until it turns to dirt. Before you get there, climb up into the hills on rutted dirt roads to the spine of the island and look left and right to see the coral reefs fringing both sides of the island. Descend on the other side to find small beaches and Garifuna fishing villages, where the spotlessly clean children run to say hello, and hold out their hands for a treat. This is the still undiscovered and mostly undisturbed bit of the island – the East End.
Six miles later, dodging pot-holes big enough to hide a dog (there actually was one), or crawling behind a herd of Brahma cows on their way to pasture, up and down steep inclines offering stunning views of lush, verdant rain forest and glimpses of the reefs off shore, you come to “The Asylum” on Camp Bay Beach, built of wood and bamboo, the quirky little beach bar/restaurant stands on stilts on the water.
On the way you could stop at Cal’s Cantina by the side of the road sporting a great view of the south side and the fringing reefs and ave fresh fish for lunch, and then on to Turquoise Bay Dive Resort for a quick dip at their beach, if you buy a drink. At the end of the paved road, head down to B.J.’s Back Yard on the shore in Oak Ridge for the best shrimp basket – yum.
Still today, Paya Bay is still your quintessential untouched beach. Looking either left or right from the deck of The Asylum, is nothing but empty beach. Not as nice as West Bay, but, hey, it’s all yours. To the east, beyond the beaches, you can see the mangrove islands of Morat and Barbarreta off the end of Roatan.
For the local population of Spanish-speakers from the mainland and English-speaking islanders, things are good as the influx of tourism dollars and the building boom has lifted their standard of living, although poverty remains. The numbers of taxi drivers, the only practical means of public transport on the island, have increased ten-fold to 400 cabbies for an island that has maybe 50 miles of paved roads, although there are many more dirt roads leading down to little hamlets by the seaside. The cabbies are doing good business, mainly on cruise-ship days. Make sure to bargain, of you wish, as there is one price for locals and another for gringos, although if you don’t mind the full fare, consider it a donation. There are infrequent buses, which are little 12-seater vans doing the run between Coxen-Hole – Sandy Bay – West End. The trip will cost a buck fifty, but it will go into the Colonia in the hills to follow its regular run, with frequent stops and all sorts of baggage sharing your ride.
In the East End of the island are Garifuna villages - a blend of Carib and Arawak Indians with West African peoples who were displaced from St Vincent and Grenada and brought there to work. The original inhabitants were Indians who left few clues to their origin, but the occasional pre-Colombian artefacts, usually broken pottery that is called by the locals Yaba-Ding-Ding (translation: good-for-nothing). Before the Spanish from th mainland arrived for the tourist dollars, the main language besides Garifuna was English as Roatan belonged to Great Britain during the time of British Honduras, now Belize. It’s trite but true – the locals were friendly and outgoing. The recent additions are the more recently arrived Honduran Spanish-speakers who have taken over the lucrative taxi trade en masse, and American and Canadian ex-pats who have come and gobbled up a lot of prime beach front land. The very last group of imports to the island are the MAYA bringing their indigenous goods and selling them in West End. Most everyone speaks English (or tries) and Spanish.
Oh, did I forget to mention the coral reefs. How could I? This is THE Mecca for scuba diving in the Caribbean. Forget Cozumel or the Caymans. This place is IT. In West End Village every fifth shop is a dive shop. The largest dive fleet in the Caribbean is located at Anthony’s Key Resort. Roatan is the top of an underwater mountain range, hilly and rugged with little flat land; these contours continue underwater, thus every dive in Roatan is a wall dive, sloping into the abyss.
Cleft in the Wall
Diving off Roatan is spoken of in superlatives: the steepest walls, the healthiest corals, the largest sponges, the most extensive underwater canyons, the spookiest channels, the best chance of meeting large animals like Mantas, Sharks and Turtles. If you just like snorkeling, nothing beats the west end of West Bay Beach with some reef hugging the beach, best attempted at high tide and then, if you are brave enough, the Wall is just 200 feet off shore.
The West End Wall
But go now, before all the magic is gone.
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