The dive mecca of Utila - Honduras
Provided barf bags before departure, the ferry crossing from La Ceiba to the small island of Utila, is not for the weak of stomach. Tossed around like a used daycare toy, the large ferry is no match for the Caribbean chop. But surviving the crossing is only the beginning. The just as aggressive and unrelenting dive gauntlet awaits!
With pack on back, sweat rolling down your forehead and stomach possibly in your throat, visitors are greeted, more like bombarded, with Utila “hospitality”. “Dive…Free Room…Free Cerveza. Free Cerveza…Free Room…Dive.” Obviously tempted by the freebies, Clay and I grabbed, you guessed it, a “free” ride to Alton’s Dive Center. |
Rolling up in their groovy, rasta colored shuttle van, the Alton’s staff descended like flies on shit. “So you want to dive? Are you certified? What kinds of dives? How much money do you want to spend?” Whoa, Tranquilo, tranquilo! Within minutes, dive overload set in and my patience threshold irritatingly tested, but finally the hyped-up Dutch instructor, who had only recently stopped his 2-minute long handshake, offered the promised beer. Ah, now that’s more like it.
Touring the dive premises, we quickly learned that your dive shop not only facilitates your underwater fun, but also your above water shenanigans. Supplying a Utila social life line – living, “studying” and partying at your chosen base. And the more you dove, the more “free” nights, drinks and meals you received. Basically, if your not taking a diver course in Utila (or, in Clay and I's case, already have your advanced PADI) you’re somewhat of an outsider.
Touring the dive premises, we quickly learned that your dive shop not only facilitates your underwater fun, but also your above water shenanigans. Supplying a Utila social life line – living, “studying” and partying at your chosen base. And the more you dove, the more “free” nights, drinks and meals you received. Basically, if your not taking a diver course in Utila (or, in Clay and I's case, already have your advanced PADI) you’re somewhat of an outsider.
After a good 20-minutes of incessant dive talk we asked to see the “free room”. Located in the corner of a huge, off-kilter green house, the room could be described in one word…YUCK! A 5 X 5 box with sheets stapled over holes in the ceiling, a mattress housing more springs then padding and paper-thin walls. Free or not, this room was unbearable…even for us.
Hot, tired and finished with my beer, the room was the final nail in the coffin. No dive fraternity for us! Retreating a few streets back, we found Tony’s Place. A family-run hostel with no aesthetic charm but a vibrant owner whose character painted the aged building ever so brightly. Our room was once again a yellowing, plywood box complete with shared bathroom and ice cold shower but at least it was a dive-free zone! |
Utila was probably once a charming island paradise. Bearing the bones of colonial days gone by, houses reflect a mix of old world British architecture with Louisiana stilt-style bayou flare. Wrap around porches and picket fences further dress the manicured streets and white pillared, missionary churches are never more then three buildings away. Today, missionaries are still present but the real religion is diving.
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Hoping to find a silver lining to this dive-deranged island of horny young travelers, we hit the streets for food. Clay and I’s self-imposed challenge has always been to find the cheapest and best street food in every city visited. That was, until Utila. The only street food to speak of were, “balleado’s”. Thick tortilla’s slathered with a thin layer of frijole paste. Sounds appetizing huh. Normally a food like this could at least be jazzed up with spicy sauce but even the sauces in Utila fail to reach our five-alarm specification. Restaurants are of course prolific but if you want to receive your meal anytime this century, order well before your tummy grumbles, “Feed Me”. The best meal we found, ironically, came in a carton. “Leyke” flavored milks. Served ice cold out of the nearest corner shop fridge, strawberry, chocolate and classic vanilla flavors never ceased to quench both appetite and thirst.
As for, “must see attractions”, I have only one: The Treetanic Bar! A multi-level, multi-construction material, tree house bar. Enjoy a cocktail in the main bar, a re-constructed boat helm built off the tree’s main trunk before venturing onto the tree’s branches. Platforms, caves, twisted branch art and of course, additional “watering holes” spread back for what feels like miles of architectural wonder! The architect must also have a fetish for all things shiny! Glass shards, multi-colored rocks, shells and bottle remnants are all haphazardly mortared and polished over every surface of the bar. Similar to Gaudi’s bizarre art in Barcelona, Treetanic is Utila’s famed artist!
After a few days of trying to uncover a different side of Uitla, we finally succumbed to the diving epidemic. Promised to be different then any dives we’d done before, we reluctantly handed over our credit cards (although $55 USD is a relative steal for 2 dives). And I’m sure the dives would have been incredible, if we could have dived them! Opposing companies beat us to the early morning punch and we were forced to abort our dive plans and choose other nearby sites. Needless to say, I started the Plan B dives with a sour taste in my regulator. I realize this blog has painted Utila in a, well, not so kind light and for that I apologize. Most travelers love the island and its synonymous dive scene but if diving isn’t your thing, Utila won’t be either. |