Spiritus ubi vult spirat (Jn 3:8) – the Spirit blows where He wills. These are words from the Gospel, which Our Lord addressed to Nicodemus, words that acquire their true meaning only when read in light of the sentence immediately preceding them: Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is Spirit (Jn 3:5-6). Yet there are those, within a “Church” that claims to be inspired by a “new Pentecost,” who would seek to compel the Holy Spirit to blow not where He wills, but rather where rebels and heretics desire, so as to ratify that which is born of the flesh. These individuals peddle their frauds, their doctrinal errors, the “Conciliar Spring,” the “Synodal Path,” deaconesses and female bishops, sodomitical unions, the ecumenical pantheon, and the worship of Mother Earth – all as the work of the Paraclete. But how could the Holy Spirit promote that which contradicts what He Himself has spoken through the Prophets and through the infallible voice of the perennial Catholic Magisterium? How could the Spirit of Truth teach falsehood? How could the Consoler sow confusion and division among His faithful?

The conciliar and synodal church – a grotesque counterfeit of the true Church of Christ – goes so far as to fashion for itself a god for its own use and consumption: an ecumenical and inclusive god, a god who demands neither conversion nor penance, a god who did not become incarnate to redeem us through His own Passion, but who “abdicates,” so to speak, His own divinity to allow Himself to be supplanted by man – man who makes himself god, and who deifies alongside himself a Magnifica humanitas in rebellion, a Dignitas infinita forged of pride and a rejection of the Cross.

The Spirit blows where He wills.

In the face of the apostasy of the highest echelons of the Hierarchy, the Holy Spirit continues to blow where He wills – that is, in the same place where He has always willed and where He always will – perpetuating, through the outpouring of His gifts, the work of Creation, Redemption, and Sanctification of the Most Holy Trinity. It is a work that Holy Church is called to accomplish principally through the Sacraments. To this task are called the Apostles, who received the Holy Spirit in the Upper Room, and to this task are called their Successors. They have received the fullness of the Priesthood, which perpetuates Holy Orders and the Holy Mass, the beating heart of the Church, within the unbroken line of Apostolic Succession. It is to them that Our Lord has entrusted the task of pouring forth the Holy Spirit, even when crisis strikes the very summit of the ecclesial body; even when, upon the Throne of the Prince of the Apostles, sits a usurper who, abusing a subverted authority, actively fosters dissolution and hinders good Pastors from fulfilling their Ministry. The Holy Spirit blows where He wills – the same place where He has always willed and where He always will – for He acts with absolute sovereignty, invisibly yet unequivocally, and without following the convoluted paths dictated by those who act according to the flesh. The fruits of the Paraclete – repentance, conversion, peace, charity, and holiness – are not engineered in synodal assemblies or discussion groups; nor are they achieved by adulterating the Truth, corrupting Morality, or through intrigue and falsehoods. He is the Spiritus sapientiae et intellectus; the Spiritus consilii et fortitudinis; the Spiritus scientiae et pietatis. He is the exact opposite of how the Prince of this World and his servants operate, both within and outside the Church.

The carnival atmosphere that surrounded political campaigning was known as “Partido Time.” Once in a while a presidential candidate would show up and speak in a language and using phrases that not many islanders understood the meaning of (at that time less than 10% of the 10,000 population in the Bay Islands had more than a sixth-grade education and a basic grasp of the Spanish language); the small Spanish settlements of Juticalpa, Spanish Town and Corozal were too small for politicians to be bothered with. “Partido Time” was a time associated with “rope,” free fried hog, beers, candidate caps and T-shirts. No one cared about politicians’ promises since they were rarely fulfilled.

Fast forward 40 years and the demographics have much changed. The population of 10,000 is now 100,000 and English-speaking Bay Islanders are quite probably in the minority, depending on who you talk to. Prior to the 1990s development boom, the majority of Bay Islanders were descendants of the second (Garifuna, 1797) and third (British via Cayman and Belize in the 1830s) permanent settlers of the islands (the first being the Pech, 400s to 1600s); beginning in the 1990s with the demand for skilled and unskilled labor, an influx of mainlanders came over, bought land, built communities and produced the first (second and now third) generation of English-speaking mainlanders with ID numbers beginning with 1101, 1102, 1103 and 1104.

They knew the language and the laws and brought with them strategies of land invasion. Their astuteness helped build large, well-run communities such as Barrio Los Fuertes, Policarpo, El Bight, Camponado and Mitch with voter blocks of around 10,000 in the large ones such as Policarpo (Sandy Bay) and Los Fuertes (French Harbour). Politicians now prioritize the Spanish-speaking communities during campaigns since this is where the voters are; English communities are now not the priority. A perfect example is the neglected island of St. Helena where, during the past eight years, it has not benefited from any municipal projects at all; the population recently turned their backs on political candidates during a primary election visit. The old Bay Islander dream of freedom from the mainland and indeed autonomy is fast dwindling, and if it is a distant possibility, it would now have to include the 1990s mainland settlers as equal partners.

While the population was growing exponentially over the last 30-odd years, so has development, and with it a concerning impact and risk to three facets of Bay Islands existence. First, the environment, where huge swaths of lush green hillside have been carved away by fly-by-night developers merely concerned with making a quick return and leaving.

Political leaders were given a bite, a mordida.

I was recently up in Camp Bay having a sandwich at a new cafe, and while waiting for my meal, I thumbed through a sales brochure that the developer had left there. One of the photographs showed an island which definitely was nowhere in the Bay Islands; closer examination revealed it to be Malapascua in the Philippines. It saddened me that a developer who has been welcomed here to do business had torn down acres of hillside only to dupe buyers into thinking Roatan was somewhere else. No love for the island at all, which is, I suppose, why the total destruction happened in the first place.

It is an unspoken secret that local political leaders were given a bite, a mordida, to turn a blind eye — leaders who would rather benefit from a few thousand dollars today and sell out their birthright for generations to come. If this keeps up, in another 10 years we will live in a dust bowl with no water resources.

The second impact is on the Anglo Bay Islander (Creole) culture, history and language. Unique in itself in as much as it has drawn from British (English, Scottish and West Indian in particular) culture as well as traditional Caribbean culture, it has actually come up with some contributions unique to these islands; the sweet dish “corn rice” is a perfect example. Sadly, the number of people who know how to make corn rice, a traditional “run down” or coconut bread from scratch, are few and far between. Young people nowadays are more attracted to mainland dishes like pollo chuco and tacos and are lured into eating fast-food fried chicken and pizza instead of preparing and eating traditional dishes and pastries.

Maypole and plait pole events are scarce and rarely observed or not done in the traditional way. Island calypso music using homemade instruments (washboard, spoon drums and handsaw with a bow) has disappeared completely. The pure Creole English spoken in the Bay Islands (which varies from community to community) is being watered down and in many cases pushed out and replaced by Spanish. According to Ross Graham, a linguist who wrote his Ph.D. thesis on Bay Islands English, the Creole spoken here is unique and worthy of preservation. I have been saddened on several occasions watching an interview on local news channels with a Creole (English) interviewer and another Creole — and they are speaking Spanish.

Honduranization of the Bay Islands is in full swing.

History is being neglected as well. I recently was dismayed to see that a developer had been allowed to build a road (cut and fill) right through the historic British fort at Augusta in Port Royal with no consideration for what lay beneath. Why were they given a permit to do this in the first place? This site and others in Port Royal and dotted around the islands are impressive and must be preserved. I maintain that the Bay Islands have a deeper history and far more historical places of interest than our northern sister islands, the Caymans.

The Garifuna, it is worth mentioning, have been more resilient in preserving their culture, mainly due to the priority they place on ancestral traditions as well as the strength within the Punta Gorda community and limited mixing with mainlanders and English-speaking Creoles. Punta Gorda’s main street has been transformed into a tourist mecca and a textbook example of sustainable tourism and opportunities through cultural and historical preservation; a few miles east in Pandyville, the English Creoles have a golden opportunity to do something similar if only they were given a hand and pointed in the right direction.

The third impact is the lack of loyalty to the local economy. Significant projects on the Bay Islands are being designed and built by engineering and construction firms from the mainland that have operating permits from mainland municipalities, while local firms that have long-established permits are being squeezed — some would say extorted — for unsustainable fees and taxes.

Local authorities, by turning a blind eye to mainland firms coming in, are encouraging an influx of firms that have no affinity for the island and see it only as fertile ground ready to exploit, while established island companies will always be here and have a vested interest in sustainable development. When charities come knocking at doors looking for donations, it’s the local firms that are always around to chip in. The mainland firms support mainland charities and social projects.

It is fitting to conclude that the Bay Islands are at a turning point environmentally. Creole-English Bay Islanders, as a group, are in crisis and oblivious to what is going on around them. The Honduranization of the Bay Islands is in full swing, and without knowing it, our local government leaders in all four municipalities and in Congress are facilitating the decline of a culture. We witness the paving of the way to destruction of our environment and the gradual erasure of a culture and its history. It is now imperative that voters get proactively involved.
Here is a list of ways the voting public can get involved:

There needs to be action by us, the voters, by asking questions of political leaders and holding them accountable. We need to ask them what the procedure is for developers to acquire projects and to hold them accountable for making sure projects are managed correctly with appropriate oversight measures in place. Each community council or patronato should be able to have the confidence to question why apparently damaging projects are being allowed.

Political candidates should be asked what they plan to do about stimulating economic growth for businesses and entrepreneurs wanting to start small tourism concerns such as the Creole village in Pandyville mentioned above. They should also be asked what they will do about reviving and preserving the Creole way of life through workshops and incentives to bring it to where Punta Gorda and the Garifuna are.

Voters need to get out of the partisan politics mindset that is sinking us into a swamp of conformism. Same old, same old will not save us from ourselves. Vote for the candidate — even if he or she is not well known — if they answer the tough questions with reasonable and logical answers. They are the candidate.

Citizens need to put fear aside and start pushing back against unfair local and mainland taxation and injustice.

There are tangible things that political leaders can do:
Seek and listen to advice. Gather a think tank of experience and ask them what concerns them and how they would go about addressing it. Put culture, history and local commerce as priorities. Create five-, 10- and 20-year work plans with clear objectives.

Ensure sound, consistent teaching of Bay Islands history through collaboration with regional education representatives.

Appoint a cultural city manager and a historical city councilor as full-time employees and give them the support they need.

Make a pledge to put the love of the islands before any personal or financial benefit by thinking about what sort of place we will leave for our children and generations to come.

Reach out to international nonprofits that have not only funding available but also expertise for sustainable tourism projects.

Join forces with other Bay Islands municipalities to lobby for more autonomy from the central government.

It’s not too late yet, but let us look further than the end of our noses and plan for the next generations so that they inherit a Bahamas rather than a Haiti.

The commandant asked the men to volunteer for the build. While there would be no pay, their room and board would be covered. Some of the men volunteered, while others did not. So the commandant put those who refused to work to work anyway.

He asked who in the group was a carpenter and whether they could put a roof on the buildings. Those who said they could do the job were put to work directly on the buildings. The non-volunteers would not disclose what skills they had, so the commandant assigned them to the Coxen Hole to West End road being built at that time — by far the harder work. They had to carve out and level the road using only shovels and hoes.

My father, Archie Jones, was part of the group of men who volunteered. The next day, the commandant delegated duties to each of the men working on the buildings, matching each man’s skills to his job. My father was a painter and a seaman by profession.

The men worked the first week fully, and once the week was done, the commandant let them go back to their homes. Only about half of them showed up for work the following Monday. The commandant was annoyed, as they had all promised to return, so he sent the soldiers out looking for them. They caught a few of the men who had deserted, while others hid in the bush. The ones he caught were put to work on the hardest part of the road construction as punishment, and he did not let them go home the next weekend.

They caught a few of the men who had deserted.

My dad told me that he spoke to the commandant himself. He explained to him that he had a wife and children, as well as a farm. He was willing to do the work, but he needed to leave by 3 p.m. each day to tend to his duties to his family and his farm, and he would return by 8 a.m. the next morning.

The commandant agreed to his proposal, but warned him that he had better keep his word. The commandant had seen my dad work and was greatly impressed by his skill at painting, so he instructed him to paint the entire building — a job that took about two months to complete. Their deal stood strong the whole time.

Several other men made their own agreements with the commandant. For those who did not, a rift grew between the men and the commandant, and some ran off in the night. Eventually the structures were finished and painted. One building was the two-story cabildo and the other housed the commandant’s office, the governor’s office, the judge of letters’ office, the post office, and the customs house.

Burning of the dories

I should point out that at this time, not many islanders spoke Spanish, and as time went on, more disagreements arose between the islanders and the commandant. Another example of this rift was when the commandant issued a new law not allowing horses within the main street of Coxen Hole due to the waste. This caused issues, as most transport of goods was done by horse. Islanders were forced to leave their horses on the outskirts and walk with their items to sell.

The commandant later accused the islanders of smuggling merchandise off the ships that came from Mobile, Belize, Florida, and elsewhere. The merchandise was supposed to arrive at the main dock in Coxen Hole, but the men were accused of going out by dory, off West End, to take a portion of the goods from the ships before they could pass through the customs house. The commandant used to say, “These islanders would smuggle under the nose of Jesus Christ.”

The commandant decided he would go to West End and burn up all the dories. Someone tipped the islanders off to his plan. The islanders hid all of their good dories in the mangroves, sinking them with rocks and water so they would stay submerged and out of sight. By the time the commandant arrived, he found only some old dories that the men had placed there as a diversion. The commandant ordered his soldiers to pile up the old dories and burn them all. He suspected the island people had pulled a trick on him, since there should have been many more dories — but he decided this was enough to send his message and put a stop to the smuggling.

A woman, a dog, and a local

Around this time, a yacht arrived in Coxen Hole, and her owner was a woman. The boat stayed for some time in an area called Close Harbour, located near where the west end of the airport sits today. The commandant and the woman became close friends.

The woman had a dog, which she would bring ashore around the park each evening. The locals also went to the park in the evenings. On one occasion the dog bit a local man very badly and he ended up killing it. It was reported that this dog had bitten several other people as well.

The woman complained about the killing of her dog to the commandant, who responded by sending soldiers to arrest the local man. They beat him with a bullwhip as punishment. The local man had confided in a friend that he planned to take revenge on the men who beat him. His friend convinced him it would be safer to go than to stay and risk further trouble with the commandant. He later moved to the U.S. Once the commandant vacated his position, the local man returned to the island.

The complaint to the president

A group of islanders decided to travel to Tegucigalpa to submit a formal complaint against the commandant. It was 1944 and they met with General Carías, who was president of Honduras at the time. Gen. Carías listened to them and told them he would relieve the commandant of his post in Roatan and relocate him elsewhere. The general also told the men that he would be sending a new commandant — one he knew personally — and warned that if the problems continued, he would look upon the islanders as the cause.

Colonel Ernesto Cruz

The commandant’s replacement, Colonel Ernesto Cruz, arrived on the island in 1944. In 1945 he brought a secretary to work alongside him, a man by the name of Rafael Moya. The colonel got along very well with the islanders and was well liked by everyone. The Gough brothers in Oak Ridge built a boat and named her after him: the “Colonel Cruz.”

Rafael Moya married my sister, Caroline Jones, in 1951. As a boy of six, I spent a great deal of time in Coxen Hole with my sister between 1951 and 1955. I would stop by the colonel’s office a couple of days each week. He kept a paperweight on his desk — a brass anchor — that I used to play with whenever I visited.

When the colonel finished his tenure in 1956, after 12 years in Roatan, he returned to the mainland. Before he left, he gave me that brass anchor and told me to anchor my own boat down with it once I got one. I always planned to visit him when I became a man, but I was never able to make the trip. He later died on a farm outside of San Pedro Sula. There are still descendants of Colonel Cruz living in the Coxen Hole area to this day.

I still have that anchor. It hangs in my den at my home. I often look at it, reminiscing about those years.

Both roads were dealing with an increase in vehicular traffic. They were not built even for small Japanese made sedans. Those were the first of the taxis coming over from the mainland. Those old jalopies had been driving around French Harbour and Roatan for years. Then there were the busses ferrying passengers from the bus depot on the Hill to Coxen Hole, points further west and to Oak Ridge to the east. Some islanders had the latest models of Ford and Chevrolet trucks and SUVs.

This would have been the setting in French Harbour when I joined my older brothers to visit our cousin Howard [Howie] Woods beneath his parents’ house on the Point. In the evening time, in his back yard, Howie was building a speedboat from the bottom up. This would have been after a long day’s work of preparing shrimp boats for the approaching season.

It all started with a movie that Howie saw.

We enjoyed taking some time to watch Howie work. I listened to him tell me what inspired him to build the speedboat and what his plans were for the structure that was slowly coming together. Others enjoyed doing so as well, and there was usually a small gathering of friends and family – distant and near – observing Howie’s progress on the speedboat.

It all started with a movie that Howie saw at Mister Homer’s movie theater, a structure that stood next to the cement bridge for decades. The movie was Tequila Sunrise, and featured a speedboat that captured the imagination of the eighteen-year-old. Howie was so impressed with the custom-built Chris-Craft 312 Stinger that he decided to build one himself. Albeit his version was to be a smaller, one engine boat.

Working for roughly one year, part time in the evenings, Howie figured the process out along the way by trial and error. He did not have a blueprint. He did not have the internet. It was difficult and time consuming to get the supplies he needed, but he persisted. “I was going to name the speedboat the Tequila Sunrise,” he said. “But people started calling her the Red Devil.” That is the name that stuck, although it was not painted on her.

It was on the Red Devil that, on the day the speedboat was launched, many folks made their way to his father’s wharf near the harbor entrance. She was twenty feet long, eight feet wide at the widest point, and carried a 200 horsepower Yamaha two-cycle engine that reached speeds of 62 miles per hour.

It seemed that half of French Harbour had come out to that wharf and Howie was giving quick rides to most of them. Three or four people at a time went speeding west just past Sarah Key and speeding back. It seemed Howie did so for hours. I am happy to note that I was among them that day.

With the proof being in the pudding, over the next several years Howie built five more speedboats. While most of them were for folks in French Harbour and one was for a lady from California who lived in the West End area. After some years, Howie parted with the Red Devil, selling her to Mister Arnie Grant from Coxen Hole, who named her the Morat Queen.

Then for decades, nothing. Until his son, Howie Jr., who had grown up with the stories about the Red Devil and had seen the photographs, set out to track down the speedboat. She was found ashore, a total mess and abandoned for at least a decade in Calabash Bight.

Howie Jr. and a friend or two set out to renovate the Red Devil, with advice and assistance from his father available whenever it was needed. They did the renovation in French Key and once completed she was christened Tequila Sunrise. Today she carries a 300 horsepower Suzuki motor and tops out at 62 miles per hour.

The audios were published in April 2026 by website hondurasgate.ch and Spain’s Canal Red. The audios are conversations between eight Honduran political figures — current and former Honduran presidents, a Liberal Party leader, a congress president and others.

The leaked audio files come from messaging apps such as WhatsApp, Signal and Telegram, as well as two phone calls. They were supposedly recorded between January and April 2026, but it is not clear who managed to intercept these conversations. The ability to capture audio from not just one, but several encrypted messaging systems belongs in the sphere of large national players. Clandestine services that have the interest and capability to conduct such operations are national security agencies such as the NSA, CIA or Mossad, or a combination of those. China’s MSS, Britain’s MI6 or Russia’s FSB don’t have a stake in this game.

While at least two of the people in the recordings denied having those conversations, an audio analysis of three of the audios done by Earshot concluded that they are likely authentic. It could also be true that only some of the recordings are authentic, in part or entirely falsified. That is part of the clandestine statecraft conducted by players who choose political candidates on the left and right.

It is also quite possible that JOH himself, prompted by his handlers, recorded and distributed those audios as part of a destabilizing, manipulative PSYOP aimed at chilling, desensitizing and bringing a sense of inevitability to the Latin American public.

That is part of the clandestine statecraft.

The methods described in the audios are disinformation campaigns targeting the leftist governments of Mexico, Colombia and Brazil. The recordings have JOH telling President Nasry Asfura about setting up a disinformation strategy coordinated by Washington and funded also with Honduran money and funds from Argentina’s Javier Milei. “We’re going to set up an informational cell from the USA. Dossiers are coming against Mexico, against Colombia, and against the Zelaya family,” says JOH in the audios.

Colombia’s president Gustavo Petro and Mexico’s president Claudia Sheinbaum have commented on the recordings, treating them as legitimate. The first results of targeting the leftist presidents are already in. On June 21, Colombia’s Petro lost his presidential reelection bid to Abelardo de la Espriella, a pro-Israel and pro-U.S. Candidate.

The Hondurasgate audio transcripts include explicit references to using violence and “eliminating” political opposition, with Hernández describing the operation as an effort to “extirpate the cancer of the left.” These tactics are akin to Operation Condor from the 1970s and ‘80s. JOH is only in a position to undertake these actions because he is not in jail serving a 45-year sentence for his drug smuggling crimes. According to the Hondurasgate recordings, Trump’s pardoning of the former Honduran president was orchestrated by Israel.

This would make sense, as Hernández has proved himself Israel’s staunch backer by moving the Honduran embassy to Jerusalem, buying millions in Israeli arms and, in 2015, telling an audience of the World Jewish Congress that “as long as I am president, Honduras will stand behind Israel.” Also, according to El Heraldo, just prior to his extradition to the U.S. on drug charges in 2021, JOH and his family converted to Judaism. The timing of this conversion, prior to his trial and conviction, made him eligible for help from the Jewish state. Ultimately, and according to his words in the recording, he received it.

JOH’s relationship with Israel began when, as a young man in the early 1990s, Hernández traveled to Israel under the auspices of Mashav, the Israeli Agency for International Development. Since 1957, Mashav has trained around 350,000 professionals from over 140 countries. This cadre of officials can be counted on for help when Israel needs it. Facts and leaked recordings suggest that Hernández has become an Israeli asset in Honduras and now in Miami.

Another interesting portion of the Hondurasgate audios refers to the use of Honduran Evangelical churches so that “people forget the past.” The CIA, and more recently Israel, has promoted Evangelical churches as a tool in fighting communists and liberation theology Catholics since the 1950s.

Not that Catholic Hondurans have been particularly resistant, either. Israel has captured — or at least kept silent — even the leaders of Honduras’ Palestinian community. The top presidential candidates in 2025 Honduran elections were both Catholic Palestinians. While President Nasry Asfura’s and Salvador Nasralla’s grandparents hail from or around Bethlehem, both politicians have remained silent on Israel’s genocide in Gaza, killing of their Christian kinsmen, and the destruction of churches in the West Bank.

The audio files also refer to allowing for the enlargement of U.S. military presence and handing over some Honduran infrastructure to multinational companies such as General Electric. Multiple fronts of interest for the U.S. and Israel are mentioned in the Hondurasgate audios: the U.S. Palmerola military base, the dry canal and Roatan’s ZEDE. “We’re going to create another Palmerola in Roatan,” a voice attributed to President Asfura is heard in one of the recordings. Indeed island of Roatan is a growing battleground in this operation. Roatan’s Próspera and its Satuyé Port in La Ceiba have a legal and fiscal framework that exempts them from some Honduran national laws. This is a significant asset for Próspera and its funders at Pronomos Capital.

Pronomos Capital billionaires Peter Thiel and Marc Andreessen are bankrolling several charter city projects around the world — Paxis in Greenland and Itana in Nigeria, for example. Not by chance, Pronomos Capital was named after a mythological satyr and servant to Dionysus, the Greek god of ritual madness. Thiel’s and Andreessen’s objectives align with those of the Dionysian figure of Trump and with Israel. Pronomos Capital, like Pronomos the satyr, ultimately serves more powerful individuals and interests. Their individual projects in biotech, AI, crypto and trans humanism are aligned with those of the oligarchs and take advantage of the usefulness of physical space that Próspera, and by extension Roatan, offers.

Hernández has become an Israeli asset in Honduras and now Miami.

Several things can be expected in the period ahead for the pro-Israel Honduran president. Honduras will not vote against Israel in any U.N. resolution. It will escalate purchases of Israeli military hardware and implement Israeli training of its military and police. Through that training, Israel’s aggressive treatment of Palestinians will look less and less like an outlier.

It is Israel, not China or Russia, that is turning into a Latin American hegemon, using the U.S. as a proxy and its clandestine agencies as its tools. The domino effect of Israeli politics has had its first dominoes fall, with Honduras, Argentina, Guatemala and Panama. It certainly appears that governments not supportive of the joint Israeli-U.S. interest in Latin America are to be undermined and eliminated. Cuba and Nicaragua are on that list as well.

A more recent example of this type of operation is the kidnapping and deposition of Venezuela’s anti-Zionist, pro-Iran president Nicolás Maduro. In Honduras, the unfortunate “not pro-Israel enough” candidate Nasralla fell victim to that dynamic in the November 2025 electoral coup.

The Honduran public is largely oblivious and at best confused regarding Israeli plans for their country and the region. The controlled mainstream press remains mostly silent about the recordings, which are a major story either way — whether they are authentic, partially authentic or a fabrication by bad actors.

At this point, the Bishop took one of the penitents by the hand, forming a chain out of all those who were expelled from the church. And showing his own emotion, cum lacrymis, he said: (…) today you are expelled from the confines of Holy Mother Church because of your sins and wickedness, just as Adam, the first man, was expelled from paradise because of his transgression. Meanwhile, the choir sang an antiphon that recalled the words of the Book of Genesis (Gen 3:16-19). To the penitents who remained kneeling and weeping before the Cathedral portal, the Bishop urged them not to despair of the Lord’s mercy, but rather to dedicate themselves to fasting, prayer, pilgrimages, almsgiving, and good works. Finally, he invited them to return no earlier than the morning of Holy Thursday. The church doors were then closed before Mass began. (…)

In the contemporary world—particularly since Vatican II—those who once would have been considered public sinners are now welcomed and encouraged in their deviations, even by popes, by prelates and members of the clergy who are most unworthy, whose sins are equally public and scandalous to the faithful, who in turn are led into sin. But it is precisely this that constitutes the ultimate offense to the Divine Majesty: not so much and not only the evil committed, but rather its denial, indeed its legitimization, and at the same time the condemnation of the good that opposes it.

For this reason, dear faithful, the earth is still cursed today; nor could it be otherwise. The horrors and heinous crimes brought to light in recent days with the publication of Jeffrey Epstein’s files cry out to Heaven for vengeance, all the more so because of the silence surrounding them and the impunity ostentatiously granted to the guilty. Our skies are sprayed with poisons that spill over into crops and aquifers; carcinogenic substances in food; the destruction of crops and livestock for the benefit of multinational corporations’ intensive production; diseases caused by deliberately harmful and sterilizing pseudo-drugs; the imposition of “sacrifices” and “penances” for the so-called protection of our “common home”; the minute control of our every action, no longer under the gaze of God but under the eye of surveillance cameras: all these outrages, the infernal parody with which an elite, intoxicated with power and literally thirsty for human blood, seeks to replace God in legislating, in deciding what is good and what is evil, in declaring its “saints” and its “damned,” in promulgating its “rites” and its “excommunications.” This elite also has its “public penitents,” who are ostracized by the system until they convert to the infernal ideology of globalism.

Let us return to the Lord, dear faithful. Let us return to Him in sackcloth and ashes, and may the Church return along with us to condemn sin and encourage virtue, without pretense or hypocrisy, without compromise, without culpable indulgences that offend Divine Justice and nullify Divine Mercy. This is the meaning of the prayer the Bishop used to recite before the penitents dressed in sackcloth. (…) Lord our God, you who are not overcome by our offenses, but are appeased by penitential satisfaction, look, we beseech you, upon these your servants, who confess that they have gravely sinned against you. For it is yours to grant absolution from crimes and to grant pardon to sinners, you who have said that you prefer the sinner’s penance to his death. Grant, then, O Lord, that they may keep vigils of penance for you and, by the correction of their deeds, rejoice in receiving from you eternal joys. And so may it be.

In the Summer 2024 issue of Paya Magazine, a piece titled “Island Planting Grounds” begins with the following: “Early on a windless Saturday morning in the 1980s, with the sea so calm that it is flat at the reef line, it occurs to you to feed the fish that collect around the gazebo at Fantasy Island. Many of you know the place.”

“Many of you know the place.” That sentence is equally applicable to all of Fantasy Island, particularly in the minds of Bay Islanders who have known the place since July 1989, where Sunday afternoons were spent on the Fantasy Island beach with a shrimp boil in full force beneath the coconut trees, and Saturday nights were spent beneath the giant circular palapa listening to live music. Now it is gone. At the same time, it somehow remains.

Fantasy Island was built by Albert Jackson, a native of French Harbour and a prominent Roatan businessman. Jackson also owned Mariscos Agua Azul, a seafood processing company. D.V. Woods, also of French Harbour, was charged with overseeing construction. Woods later became one of the island’s many avid participants in the annual fishing tournament now known as the Roatan International Fishing Tournament, a well-regarded and popular event that began at Fantasy Island. It was originally called the Roatan Fishing Tournament, and for the first 11 years, it was sponsored by the Fantasy Island Dive Resort and Marina and Texaco.

The resort hosted Roger Moore of James Bond.

The main structure of the original Fantasy Island Dive Resort and Marina was an L-shaped building. The lobby, reception and restaurant were located at the right angle of the L. The resort was initially geared toward visitors from the United States, and bookings were all-inclusive. Breakfast and lunch were buffet-style, with dinners served à la carte. The lunch buffets were served in the circular palapa instead of the restaurant, since patrons would usually have just come in from scuba diving. The lunch buffet options included standard fare and island staples, including fried fish, barbecued chicken, and beans and rice.

The resort’s first workers were locals, including kitchen staff. Many members of the original staff had relevant experience in the service industry, especially on cruise ships.

The resort opened to the public on Sundays. Folks came from around Roatan to enjoy the day on the beach and at the beach bars. These days centered around a boil of either shrimp, Spanish lobster caught in Honduran waters, or blue crabs caught in the Roatan bush. Thursday and Saturday nights featured special events under the palapa. A local band called Joseph and the Boys played live music. The favored music was country and western, calypso, reggae and soca. The lobby bar hosted weekly karaoke nights.

In the early years, most visitors to the resort were scuba divers from the United States. Over time, a steady clientele from mainland Honduras also developed. The Fantasy Island dive shop and marina were built along the west end of the key, with the dive shop originally run by Ben, a Garifuna from Punta Gorda.

The resort’s success led to later construction that added a marina and new rooms. During this time, the resort hosted Roger Moore, of James Bond fame, and Julio Iglesias. Those were the golden days of Fantasy Island for many of us.

In 2026, around 11 million Hondurans live in the country, and another 900,000 live abroad, primarily in the U.S. and Spain. About 154,000 Catrachos are born each year, and while the Honduran median age has fallen drastically, it still stands at 25. Both Honduras and Roatan have a youthful, energetic population.

Several demographic models project that by 2050, Honduras will have around 17 million people. That population increase, especially in an aging developed world, will give Honduras significantly more clout and geopolitical influence.

With 2.4 children per Catracha, Honduras stands in stark contrast to the collapsing native populations of Europe, the U.S., Japan and South Korea. South Korea now has a birth rate of 0.8 children per woman. The average in Spain is now 1.1 children, and U.S.-born women have an average of 1.7 children. These numbers are well below the replacement level of 2.1 children per woman.

Also the divergence in birth rates dynamics is staggering. An average age of a first time mother in Spain is 32, while in Honduras it is 20. Western World birth rate implosion phenomena created an opportunity for Honduras and Roatan. At the same time the island grew, developed and has become an attractive place to live.

The definition of a “native” Roatan islander has evolved.

Roatan has relied on migrants and immigrants for economic growth and to maintain the skill sets necessary to do so. The proximity to mainland Honduras, with its 11 million people, created coast-to-island migration from departments of Atlántida, Colón and Yoro. The higher-skilled management positions on the island are filled by natives of Tegucigalpa, San Pedro Sula and La Ceiba. That is where the majority of the island’s service-sector managers, doctors and lawyers hail from.

While historically islanders have been looking for job opportunities in the U.S. or at sea since the early 20th century. Many have left the island and settled in the U.S. or worked for banana companies on the mainland. That has changed. Roatan will likely continue demographic trends that have appeared here over the past 25 years and have strengthened in the past five.

Given wage disparities and job opportunities, mainland Hondurans have been moving to Roatan in significant numbers since the 1990s. The boom in the construction sector, tourism and service industries, security companies employing thousands of workers, and even seafood processing plants has attracted mainlanders to Roatan with the prospect of a better economic future.

What Roatan’s population will look like in 2050 is starting to emerge. The growth will continue, or more likely, it will oscillate, much as it has over the past 25 years. Roatan had three periods of stagnation this century: the 2008 U.S. financial crisis, the 2009 Honduran presidential coup and its aftermath, and the 2020-21 COVID-19 lockdowns. It also suffered under some incompetent, corrupt mayors in both Roatan municipalities who made many poor policy decisions and practically brought the island economy to a standstill.

I estimate that around 115,000 people live permanently on Roatan for six months or longer. This estimate is based on observations of RECO peak power demand, overall business trends and population shifts. The estimate is not scientific, but it is meant to be an educated guess. Since the government does not conduct such surveys, and its once-a-decade censuses are tragically inaccurate, I did my best to provide a rough estimate.

The island population will likely continue to grow by around 2.5%, or 2,870 people a year, or eight people a day. That would put Roatan’s population at 190,000 by 2050, assuming growth barely one percentage point above Honduras’ national average of 1.5%. If that percentage rises to a realistic 3%, we are looking at 210,000 people living on Roatan, Santa Helena and Barbareta. By that time, the currently uninhabited island of Morat might even have a few residents.

The ethnic demographic trends will likely continue as they have over the past years. The number and percentage of mestizo mainlanders will continue to grow, and they probably account for about 50,000 to 60,000, or half of the island’s current population.

The Garifuna population, now about 4,000, will grow slightly but lose its percentage share of the island’s total population. The Black, English-speaking islander population, currently about 30,000, will likely continue growing slowly. The White native islander population, now about 3,000, will likely maintain its numbers.

Roatan had three periods of stagnation this century.

The populations moving to Roatan in the greatest numbers are from the Honduran mainland. While Hondurans from all 17 mainland departments live here, some departments and populations are heavily over represented. The population of about 7,000 Miskito Indians living on Roatan, also known as Waikna, will likely double. That is due to two factors: Miskito birth rates of about three to four children per woman, which exceed those of other ethnic groups, and continued migration from Gracias a Dios Department to the island.

The Miskito live in Honduras’ most economically challenged and undeveloped department. They are also hardworking, skillful workers. They work in security, service and construction. They do not expect high living standards, as they come from very basic circumstances on the Miskito Coast. They also help one another and readily offer a place to stay to cousins who come to Roatan looking for work. In fact, the Miskito language on Roatan surpassed the prevalence of the Garifuna language several years ago and is now the third-most widely spoken language on the island.

The foreign population residing on Roatan will likely grow due to migration from the U.S., Canada and, increasingly, Europe. These island residents of European descent currently number around 6,000, but that figure will likely double. Their numbers are growing by a couple hundred each year. As life in many parts of Europe and North America becomes increasingly uncomfortable, and life on Roatan more comfortable, that migration trend should accelerate.

The “retirement” and “adventure” immigrants come here in their 60s. The vast majority of them don’t have children on the island and return to their country of origin in their late 70s and 80s. While many will likely eventually return to their country of origin, Roatan will increasingly offer hospice and home hospital care for those who decide to live out their old age here.

The definition of a “native” Roatan islander has evolved for centuries. From about 1,000 AD to around 1650, native islanders were the Paya Indians. Today, most people living on Roatan do not even know who Paya were.

Then, for about 50 years, from 1797 through the 1840s, the “native” islanders were the Garifuna. From the 1840s to the 1990s, Roatan’s “natives” were island-born White, Black and Garifuna residents. In the 1990s, mestizo migration from the Honduran mainland took off, and by around 2015, “native” islanders had become a minority. One thing that never changes on Roatan is that the island constantly evolves.

The trick was to first grab both sides of the dory and launching oneself out of the water with a firm kick of the flippers (fin-foot) while swinging your rear-end (bonke) on to the seating plank (thwart – pronounced ‘tort’). An experienced diver or dory man could perform this movement without his companion even feeling a shift in the equilibrium of the craft! Of course there were those that could never master dory skills and who would be forever teased and berated by the experts. I made sure to practice and become skilled but it wasn’t after being called marble-bonke and crankey a few times.

The freedivers made hay while the sun shined but of course with the demand for lobster tails and more and more boats out on the banks and more divers around the islands (Bonaccians had jumped on the bandwagon and were producing some very talented young divers as well as Calabash Bight, Fiddler’s Bight and Punta Gorda down the shore on Roatan), lobsters became scarcer and were living even deeper.

Only very skilled and experienced freedivers who had memorized their special holes could come up with a decent payday. There were special quirks and inside knowledge to lobster diving; A diver looking down at coral rocks from above would see the sand whiter and cleaner with maybe a few shell fragments at the mouth of a rock crevice where a lobster was living; of course if a lobster was in a crevice and fending off small fish it would wave its antennae (whips) to reveal its location to the diver who would be snorkeling above.

There were fatalities and injuries.

Tanking started to be practiced by the Helenians in the 1990’s following the Miskito Indians (Waikna’s) lead. But this was barebones tank diving, no buoyancy compensator (BC), no depth guage and no pressure guage! I learned to tank dive like this and was taught, just like I was taught to freedive by the best Helenian divers and the critical advice was 1. When the tank started to make a ringing sound it was getting empty and it was time to come up. 2. Never ascend faster than the speed of your bubbles and 3. If the air in your tank finishes on your way up don’t hold your breath but exhale as you float (not swim) to the top.

Needless to say there were fatalities and injuries with a few young men left to live the rest of their lives, bedridden or in wheelchairs, if their families could afford it.

Diving on Helene is still a way of life, both freediving and tanking; in fact there are a few small locally owned boats that venture out to the banks and do quite well nowadays with the implementation and observance of a Lobster season. Freedivers do well at places like Alligator Reef and Half Moon Reef (located about 70miles East of Barra Patuca) where the lobsters are in relatively shallow waters. Rich lobster producing banks and reefs like Quita Sueño (150miles east of Puerto Cabezas), once frequented by Bay Islands boats and Miskito and Helene divers are now too far to travel to with the cost of fuel and fuel range of small boats prohibitive, not to mention the advanced technology of GPS surveillance which limits Honduran vessels to remain in national waters.

I was fortunate to have lived this life for a couple of years living in Saint Helene, I was accepted by this community and my curiosity was rewarded by these humble yet very tough folk who taught me, unselfishly, all the skills I needed to survive and live the very basic life of a Helenian. I did a few trips out on the fishing banks, the first of which was on a small 60ft wooden hull called the Lady Hilda skippered by the owner Charles Tatum (popularly known as ‘Uncle Pete’) who confidently navigated his vessel hundreds of miles from these islands placing the boat at exact points with just a compass, an old maritime chart yellow with age and a VHF radio. No Loran, no Satnav, quite incredible but we trusted him implicitly. But that’s for another story!

In the 1950s, Larry’s father moved his family to Tampa, Florida. The move provided better educational opportunities than those available in Roatan at the time. Larry graduated from the University of South Florida and went on to serve in the U.S. Air Force. He was stationed at MacDill Air Force Base and also served in Alaska. After completing his service, Larry had many career paths open to him. In the end, his love for his native Roatan was stronger than any opportunity abroad, and he chose to return home.

Shortly after returning, Larry met an American named Paul Adams, who purchased land and developed Anthony’s Key Resort. Larry helped build the hotel and served as the resort’s manager for several years. He played a key role in helping many foreign investors who came to Roatan develop tourism-related projects. Larry also became a founding member of the Rotary Club.

In 1980, Larry opened McLaughlin Lumber and Supplies, a hardware store and lumberyard in Coxen Hole. His store became a well-known local business and operated successfully until 2010.

Larry also was deeply involved in politics. He was a proud member of the National Political Party and eventually became president of the National Party in the Bay Islands from 1993 to 2018. He was respected by government officials from both parties.

Larry also served as head of customs for four years and was a personal friend of President Rafael Callejas. On one of our campaign trips to Utila in the spring of 1992, at about 7 p.m. that night, on the return trip to Roatan, we broke down halfway between the two islands. We were adrift sideways in choppy seas with 6- to 8-foot waves. We could see the lighthouse on West End Point, and I took a bearing on the compass using that position. We were radioing for help on emergency Channel 16 when someone unidentified came on the radio and told us to get off that channel because it was for emergencies only.

Julio Galindo was advised that we were radioing for help, and he was on his radio when he heard this remark. Julio told the unidentified person that if this was not an emergency, he didn’t know what else would be: a boat that had broken down at sea with five of the leading men from French Harbour, plus the vice president and acting president of Honduras at the time, Jacobo Hernández. Using the bearing that I took on the compass from the lighthouse, I could tell John McNab, Carl McNab and Jerry Hynds exactly where we were, and they came to render assistance and towed us back to Roatan.

In 1989, when Fantasy Island Beach Resort launched its annual fishing tournament, Larry served as the principal judge. He was assisted by Bobby Gough and Clint Bodden. Larry helped organize and judge 10 tournaments from 1989 to 1999, contributing greatly to their success.

Personal friend of President Rafael Callejas.

Larry was a lifelong bachelor and very popular with the ladies. His next-door neighbor, who had watched him grow up, often teased him about finding a wife, getting married and having children to take care of him in his old age. Larry would laugh and reply that there would be no wife for him, but that he was “working on the children” and hoped to save enough money so they could take care of him later in life.

In the end, his wish came true. When Larry became too ill to manage his affairs, his brother, Luey, stepped in to handle his finances. His daughter, Lakisha Wood, took responsibility for his care and hired a wonderful woman, Corina Martínez, who treated him with kindness and dedication. Larry was lovingly cared for by his family and had the means to live comfortably in his later years.

I have many fond memories of my friend Larry: campaigning, fishing and partying across the three main Bay Islands. One weekend stands out clearly in my mind. We started partying at Fantasy Island on Friday, then traveled on to Bonacca and Utila, finally returning home late Sunday night.

That weekend, Ole Lar had a beautiful lady with him. The following Tuesday morning, I went to Coxen Hole with my friend Blanco, who needed to conduct business at the bank. Afterward, Blanco said, “We can’t come to Coxen Hole without stopping to see Ole Lar.” I admit I was curious to see the beautiful woman again — this time sober — to find out whether she was as beautiful as I remembered.

Ole Lar came downstairs dressed in white shorts and a blue shirt, looking as bright as a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. I asked him, “Ole Lar, where is the beautiful lady you had with you over the weekend?” He smiled and replied, “She’s gone. I don’t want any woman around me for more than three days.”

Whenever Ole Lar left his house to go partying, he was always well-prepared. He carried a bag with a couple of bottles of his favorite drink — but just as important, he carried another bag filled with toiletries. Before getting out of his truck, he would “freshen up,” as he called it. He always said he never knew whom he might meet, and he wanted to look good and smell even better.

Larry spent his last years of life with family and friends at home in Coxen Hole. He died on December 22, 2025, in La Ceiba. He was buried in the family grave at the Sandy Bay Cemetery.