We had hit the halfway mark on our cruise at this point and our next stop was Isla Roatan in Honduras. Our boat was constantly running late from stop to stop leading me to believe that those crew members that were in charge of shoveling the coal needed to be whipped extra hard.
We were really excited about Honduras because we had heard amazing things and we had booked a beginner’s scuba diving trip in advance. After finally docking we ran down the pier hoping that we had not missed our ride to the scuba resort. Luckily nothing runs on time when you are on vacation and we were quickly on our way through town. Honduras is beautiful which got the wife and I to have a semi-serious conversation about maybe someday selling off all of our possessions and moving there. Later we realized that they only have cheap knock-off Cheetos there so I decided it wouldn’t be in our best interest no matter how beautiful and tranquil it was.
We finally arrived at the resort and were quickly whisked into a classroom to learn about how to scuba dive without dying. After sitting there for a few minutes our instructor strutted in. I say strutted because the guy looked like Zack Morris from Saved by the Bell and had an english accent which made him immediately a human form of lady lubricant. Throw in the fact that he was a laid-back scuba instructor in a tropical paradise and he could be used as a weapon of mass destruction if the military ever got their hands on him.
After roughly 10 minutes of instruction on how not to swallow water we were given a medical waiver that we had to check through to sign off that we had never had any medical issues ever. Our instructor informed us that if we had experienced any of these health conditions we should inform him and we will talk about it to really see if we had any issues and if we had we would have to pay $25 to see the resort doctor to get a pass. One guy had asthma which I would assume would be a serious thing if you are scuba diving but after 5 minutes with the doc he was cleared to breathe underwater.
We then got on the boat and headed out to sea. Both my wife and I thought that we would get wetsuits to put on but about halfway out we were handed our equipment which consisted of a vest attached to a tank. Neither of us wore sunscreen because we thought we’d be covered and I was rocking cargo shorts so that was what I had to swim in. Interesting thing about swimming with cargo shorts – when you try to get out of the water your pockets filled with water will pull your shorts off of your body. I learned this the hard way about 4 times. We sailed out to a shallow spot to test out our scuba techniques. I passed all the test with flying colors except for the fact that the instructor had to put extra weight into my vest because I was apparently too buoyant. Another experience that I will cite in my lawsuit against McDonalds. One other woman in our group couldn’t take it and started crying and yelling at the instructor. Once we got back on the boat she burst into tears. More on that later, I’m not just mentioning it to be mean.
We then headed out to deeper water to check out the reef and sea life out there. This is where people started getting eliminated from the scuba trip Willy Wonka-style. First we lost a person because they freaked out and refused to jump off the boat, then another when they got freaked out when they saw fish. Each time someone was sent back to the boat the only thing missing was an Oompa Loompa song.
We got out to our rope ladder down to the bottom and had a brief discussion about clearing our ears while on our way down. I started down the rope and felt an immense pressure in my ears so I came back up. When I got back up to the surface I realized that my wife had been the next victim of Oompa Loompa’s and was no longer around. After figuring out that she had made it back to the boat I tried the decent again. About halfway down I remembered that in high school I busted my eardrum in swimming class and felt the pressure and pain again and headed back up. The instructor started laying into me about not depressurizing enough but I had to make a Wonka exit of my own at that point because I would rather hear for a few more years than lose my s#** when I see an eel 150 feet underwater so I started my retreat back to the boat.
Soon after another person from our group returned to the boat. The only person from our group that actually completed the trip was that sobbing lady who couldn’t handle the 4 ft deep water.
After everyone got back the wife and I decided to enjoy the white beaches for a few minutes before boarding back on the Love Boat. I’m hoping that heaven looks like Honduras, only with slightly less hairy backs.
Next stop….Cozumel. I feel a part 5 coming soon.