Iranians have been burring not only Israeli and American flags, but statues of Baal, the Satanic demon appeased by child sacrifice, usually by burning. On February 11, on the 47th anniversary of the Iran’s Islamic Revolution, Iranians burned Baal effigies across several cities. This attitude is in a stark contrast with the UK and USA where in 2016 Arch of Triumph of the Temple of Baal from Syria was erected and celebrated by high UK officials in London’s Trafalgar square. The Iranian Baal effigy carried a slogan: “We, the monotheists of the world, by the help of God, will bring down the worshipers of Baal, the worshipers of Satan, and the arrogant oppressors.” Thirteen days later, the Israel-US attack on Iran begun by perfidious assassinations of its 84-year-old religious leader meeting to discuss a response to US demands. Bombings begun on February 28, the eve of Jewish holiday of Purim – celebrating Jews killing 75,000 Persians in 355 BC. In another assassination that day 176 Iranian schoolgirls aged 7 to 12, were killed by US jets in a “double-tap” missile strike that also killed first responders who came to help the survivors 40 minutes later. While US public is confused about why their armed forces attacked Iran, many Iranians believe the true nature of their struggle is spiritual and eschatological in nature.

Isaac Coming to Honduras

In June 2025, President Milei’s personal Rabbi launched the Isaac Accords – Israel’s diplomatic initiative to spread its influence across Latin America. The Isaac Accords are modeled after the 2020 Abraham Accords that served as a prelude in spreading Israel’s sway in the Middle East and its war on Syria, Lebanon, Yemen and Iran- countries that were not part of the accord. The original signatories of the Isaac Accords were Uruguay, Panama and Costa Rica and in 2026 Brazil, Colombia, Chile, and potentially El Salvador could join in. As Honduras’ president Asfura owes a debt to Israel for his controversial 2025 election win, it is likely Honduras could be signing the accords in not too distant future. The cooperation proposed in the accords focuses on forming intelligence-sharing alliances, economy and security.

Drones in Haiti

XXI century technologies XXI century technologies have arrived in Haiti – Western Hemisphere’s poorest country. Since March 2025 over 1,200 Haitians have been killed by quad copter explosive drones. The killer drones are manned by private military contractors Vectus Global, which is led by Blackwater founder Erik Prince. According to human Rights Watch the “gang member” assassinated by the drone strikes were not directly threading any civilians. The most lethal of those drone assassinations killed 57 Haitians in one explosion. These strikes not only kill suspected “gang members,” but many civilians and until now 17 children. The so-far $52 million cost of the drone assassinations comes out to $42,000 per person killed and is paid by Haitian government. Haiti is providing a glimpse at the future of surveillance and punishment systems that are being implemented across the world.

More SSPX Bishops

The Catholic Priestly Society of San Pius X [SSPX] has announced that it will move forward with consecrating a number of bishops after Vatican refused their approval. The consecrations are scheduled for July 1, 38 years to the day after SSPX consecrated its four bishops, also without Papal approval. Two of its four consecrated in Écône in 1988 bishops have died in 2025. Vatican has stated that these consecrations would form “decisive rupture of ecclesial communion (schism)” and carry “grave consequences.” While both the consecrating bishops, and consecrated bishops face an automatic excommunication (latae sententiae), SSPX argues that the “grave state of necessity” that exists in the Catholic Church allows them to proceed to with consecrations as the paramount Catholic goal is saving souls. Without new bishops SSPX faces a risk that the communities it tends to lose the ability to receive new ordained priests and receive bestowed by bishops sacraments of confirmation. SSPX was funded by Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre in 1970 and grew from around 60,000 followers in 1988 to include 700 priests, 134 schools, six seminaries and well over 600,000 followers today.

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.

Kilotonnes of Seaweed become a Curse to Many, a Resource to a Few

You can look at the Sargassum overabundance as a curse, and you can also look at it as a blessing. In February, when millions of cubic meters of Sargassum washed onto beaches and mangroves along the Roatan shoreline, many islanders took action. Others did nothing at all. After two months, the results are in.
The winter of 2026 broke records, creating a Sargassum bloom never before seen at this scale in the western Caribbean. The 2025 Sargassum biomass was estimated at 37 million tons, but this year will surely smash the record once the tally is in.

The extraordinarily large bloom is attributed to wind-driven upwelling in the Atlantic, which brought extra nutrients to the Sargassum belt.
On Roatan, two species of Sargassum have wreaked havoc: Sargassum natans and Sargassum fluitans have been washing up. Sargassum is a type of brown macroalgae, or seaweed, that grows in the Atlantic and is pushed eastward by wind onto the shores of islands and continents. Things get out of hand when Sargassum quantities become 50 or 100 times greater than in a typical year.

The Sargassum Impact

Sargassum disrupts ecosystems, creates a foul odor and traps tiny fish. The seaweed depletes oxygen in the surrounding water. As it breaks down and decomposes, Sargassum produces hydrogen sulfide and ammonia, resulting in a low pH level. This further harms the aquatic environment and the animals that live there. The result is the creation of dead zones under and around floating, decomposing Sargassum.

In other words, Sargassum degrades water quality and makes the marine environment inhospitable. The number of species and the density of marine life drop. Once Sargassum leaves the island’s coast, the true scale of those negative effects can be assessed. When Sargassum envelops mangrove areas, it also stifles local fish species that use mangroves as nurseries.

Another negative effect is the microplastics that are brought in by the Sargassum. The pieces of Sargassum float hundreds of meters from beaches, and swimming or snorkeling can be a less pleasant experience.

There are a few benefits of this seaweed for critters that feed on it. Sargassum provides a rich environment for organisms such as bacteria and fungi, which grow on decomposing plant matter, breaking it down and turning it into nutrients. Some fish, including juvenile triggerfish and filefish, feed on the invertebrates that live with the Sargassum. Tiny amphipods and isopods graze on the decaying Sargassum, and those, in turn, become food for crabs and fish.

There are examples of such events in the recent past. In 2018, Mexico’s Caribbean coast was so inundated with Sargassum that it caused a die-off of dozens of animal species. This year, Sargassum has overwhelmed Roatan’s beaches, and the island’s marine life has been hit hard.

While Roatan is about 42 kilometers long, its meandering shoreline stretches well over 160 kilometers. Tens of millions of cubic meters of Sargassum have washed ashore on Roatan.

WEST BAY UNDER SARGASSUM SIEGE

On Feb. 9 and 10, the situation got out of control. As rainy weather kept most West Bay tourists from going to the beach, Roatan’s premier beach shore was packed with Sargassum. West Bay, the jewel of Roatan tourism, has been affected as never before. The 1,000-meter-long beach was surrounded by a belt of Sargassum that was 100 meters wide and half a meter thick.

Local authorities became preoccupied with solving the immediate problem of Sargassum affecting the beach experience for thousands of tourists visiting the jewel of Roatan. They felt they needed to act quickly, and that solution was to truck the Sargassum to dumping sites across the western side of the island and bury the rest under the white beach sand with heavy machinery and plenty of manpower.

Sargassum has been racked by hand by dozens of municipal workers, wheel barrowed onto trucks and dumped by the side of West Bay Road and at the municipal dump. Paya Magazine calculates that more than 300,000 cubic meters of Sargassum were removed from West Bay Beach in the winter of 2026.

While covering tons of Sargassum directly beneath two meters of white West Bay sand seemed to solve the aesthetic problem in a matter of days, as with many quick decisions, the unintended consequences might take several months or years to be realized. “Burying the Sargassum on a white sandy beach like West Bay can result in changing the color of the sand over time,” said Darrell Humphries, HOA manager at Palmetto Bay since 2016. “If you start placing Sargassum there, you can end up with darker, browner-colored sand eventually.”

According to Humphries, turtle grass and spaghetti grass, with their high calcium content, eventually turn into sand, but Sargassum turns into a solid, darker material. “Sargassum is a darker type of product once it is broken down,” Humphries says. “It’s empirical, a lot of observational stuff we have learned over time.”

Another potential unintended consequence of burying Sargassum under a relatively narrow and steep West Bay Beach is the potential to speed up beach erosion. While burying Sargassum along West Bay Beach has given beach users a wider and taller beach, that effect could be only temporary.

Sargassum blocks sunlight reaching both coral and sea grass.

The higher beach will erode more quickly from currents and storms in the coming months, and perhaps a year or two. The waterlogged, spongy Sargassum will eventually be compressed into a minuscule layer of brown solids. When the currents finish their equalizing work and the Sargassum compression process ends, West Bay Beach might be narrower and lower. The beautiful beach might be less wide after Sargassum floated into West Bay in February 2026.

BEYOND WEST BAY

While the attention of Roatan Municipality authorities focused resources and manpower on tourist areas such as West Bay and West End, the rest of the island was left to fend for itself. The communities of Punta Gorda and Brick Bay were particularly affected by the tons of decomposing, foul-smelling seaweed.

Some places have had it worse than others. In the Brick Bay community, the Sargassum has been accumulating and decomposing for more than six weeks. Several hundred people live in this densely populated south side seaside village.

As older seaweed decomposes, new waves of Sargassum wash ashore, replacing it. The stench of rotting Sargassum is similar to that of a failed septic system. While no one has become ill, constant exposure to the stench of decomposing Sargassum has been stressful and miserable. “People are getting accustomed. In their homes, the smell seems less strong,” said Ricardo Hernández, a longtime Brick Bay resident.

The Honduran Navy has considered bringing in a floating barrier to prevent more Sargassum from floating into Brick Bay. The most likely outcome is that the problem will solve itself naturally. Nature will take away what nature has created. “We are waiting for a northern that would move the Sargassum out to sea,” says Hernández, whose Brick Bay home is 15 meters from the sea.

SARGASSUM AS A RESOURCE

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, goes the proverbial phrase. The ideal situation would be to treat Sargassum as a periodic resource: a fertilizer, a building material for roads and landfills, and even an element for creating building blocks.

In Mexico, local entrepreneurs have found a way to turn Sargassum into a construction material. They gather Sargassum from beaches, and then wash it with fresh water to remove the salt. Next, the Sargassum is dried and shredded, and a cement mixture is added. The rectangular Sargassum building blocks are then dried in the sun. The resulting Sargassum-cement blocks are strong, fire-resistant, thermally massive and inexpensive.

On Roatan, some islanders have been using Sargassum as fertilizer for well over a decade. They pick up the seaweed from the beaches, rinse it with fresh water, and then spread it around the base of their fruit trees. “We let it dry out and put it all over the plants,” said Richard Anderson, a hotel owner from West End. “It’s like Popeye when you give him spinach.” Anderson rinses the Sargassum and then dries it out before using it all over his property.

There are also islanders who use Sargassum as a construction material and landfill material. Over the years, the Palmetto Bay maintenance staff has become expert at quickly gathering Sargassum from the beach and using it for improvements in community areas.

Islanders have been using Sargassum as a fertilizer.

Palmetto Bay maintenance staff has been using washed-out Sargassum, turtle grass and spaghetti grass to construct a walking trail and road system in its low-lying Bird Sanctuary community area. This project began in 2014, so the Palmetto Bay HOA staff has gained extensive experience handling Sargassum and using it in careful, strategic ways.

Palmetto Bay maintenance staff have been using Sargassum as a natural, free fertilizer for some of their plants. “It’s a great fertilizer; it’s great for mixing in with regular soil,” says Darell Humphries, manager at Palmetto Bay.

The steps in producing this free plant stimulant are minimal. Workers gather the Sargassum with a tractor, place it on a trailer, and dump it in an area where rain rinses it down. Then the Palmetto Bay staff places the broken-down Sargassum at the base of plants and trees. “Peppers and other vegetables do very well with Sargassum,” says Humphries.

The maintenance tractor operators try to avoid picking up Sargassum that has rolled around in the water and become entangled with a lot of sand. They try to keep picking up Sargassum and keeping the entangled sand to a minimum, somewhere around 5% to 10%.

As a youth, Henry signed up to be a seaman. He was running bananas from the border of Nicaragua and Honduras to Tampa, Florida. Mr. Henry worked at SS Caravelle, an LCI (Landing Craft Infantry) ship from World War II. Eventually he worked as a seaman on a shipping vessel hauling cargo between Tampa, Havana, the Isle of Pines, and Haiti. “We were picking up chicken feed from Haiti,” remembers Mr. Henry.

Mr. Henry’s wife Mrs. Sula, was born in Utila Cays on July 11, 1941 to Henry Rose Suniga and Evelyn Mae Howell. The two met at a dance at Wilson Hotel. “We mostly danced boleros,” remembers Mr. Henry. In 1961, they married. “Every one damn thing is different. They are hard to get along with,” says about the Caytons Mr. Henry.

Mr. Henry learned how to shrimp in Texas in Port Isabel and became a shrimp boat captain in Western Caribbean. “I was the first one to fish [shrimp] out of Puerto Barrios, Guatemala,” says Mr. Henry. “I’ve been a shrimper all my life.” He was also shrimping out of Nicaragua and Louisiana. Back in the Bay Islands, he shrimped out of Mariscos de Bahía in Oak Ridge.

While he was at sea, Mr. Henry and Mrs. Sula communicated via single side band radio. Every day the young captain would call home to Utila to check how things were. The couple had eight children; five chose to live on Utila.

I’ve been a shrimper all my life.

Mr. Henry was the first shrimp captain to open shrimp grounds near Tela and Puerto Castilla. “I shrimped till I lost my eye,” said Mr. Henry. He lost his right eye in a fishing accident while motoring between Utila and Roatan. Mr. Henry took his dory and departed solo for Roatan to take part in a surprise birthday party. He had placed fishing lines trailing in the water, and three miles outside of West End he caught a fish that was hard to handle. After a struggle, a line slipped and bobby from the fishing rod hit Mr. Henry in his right eye. “Utila was so far I thought I was going to bleed to death,” remembers Mr. Henry. “I was bleeding like a hog.”

He was closer to Roatan and decided to just keep going. “I am going carry you to Anthony’s Key, there is a hospital there,” a Roatan fisherman he encountered off West Bay told him. The Good Samaritan towed Mr. Henry’s boat to Sandy Bay and likely saved his life. Since then, Mr. Henry had seven operations on his eye. The accident marked the end of his fishing career.

Utila was so far I thought I was going to bleed to death.

An old parrot and two small dogs keep the couple company. Mr. Henry and Mrs. Sula smile and hug one another as they swing on the porch of their tidy hillside home surrounded by a spotless garden. Mr. Henry feels most proud of “the days we spent together with his wife.”

There are about nine ambulances providing emergency transport from accident scenes to emergency centers around the island. UNIMED has two; AirEvac in West Bay has one; Woods Medical Clinic has one; there is the airport ambulance; the Red Cross and COPECO have one ambulance each; and the Roatan Fire Department has two ambulances.

The islanders relied on their neighbors and enterprising businessmen to help with emergency transport until the late 1990s. That changed in 1998, when Hurricane Mitch battered Roatan and the Fire Department received its ambulance. It was based at the Coxen Hole fire station and staffed by Fire Chief Elton Woods.

Emergency dispatching takes place via WhatsApp groups, where someone posts an emergency and another person reads it and says an ambulance has been contacted. It is a poor man’s emergency dispatch system, but it works.
Some believe it could work better. “It is a shame Roatan still doesn’t have an emergency dispatcher,” said Ana Svoboda, president of the Honduran Red Cross Bay Islands Council from 2016 to 2021. “This would reduce anxiety; get emergency services to accident scenes more quickly and ultimately save lives.”

It is a poor man’s emergency dispatch.

Roatan is now dotted with private clinics offering emergency ambulance services. West End-based UNIMED has two ambulances and provides services to tourists and locals. Their ambulances provide BLS, or basic life support, and DLS, or advanced life support. They have systems to treat heart failure. “Our doctors provide treatment on-site, not at the clinic,” says Daniel Cartagena, UNIMED’s manager since 2018. “We do the first assessment on-site, and if it is a motorcycle accident, we take them to Satuye Hospital.”

UNIMED is strategically located in West End and offers emergency transport, 24/7 emergency care, lab tests, X-rays, general surgery, air ambulance services, and an array of specialist doctors. UNIMED began in 2015 with a wheeled ambulance based at Coconut Tree in West End. “We assisted with many emergencies at that time,” Cartagena says.

In 2019, UNIMED expanded its services to provide a stabilization facility and care for minor emergencies. UNIMED is part of a chain of clinics and urgent care centers in Latin America. UNIMED is a sister company of AirEvac International and is owned by Raul Mendoza, a California businessman.

There are several other private clinic ambulance providers for cruise passengers in case of emergency. One of them is the island’s oldest private hospital, owned by Dr. Jackie Woods.

Dr. Woods opened Woods Medical Center, or WMC, on Main Street in Coxen Hole in 1999. From the beginning, the center has operated as a 24/7 emergency facility. Since 2023, it has had its own ambulance. “We only use the ambulance for cruise ship patients,” said Dr. Woods, owner of Woods Medical Center. In 2025, WMC has an intensive care unit, or ICU, that is able to stabilize a patient. “We can treat trauma,” Dr. Woods said.

The biggest necessity is the blood bank.

Other elements of good emergency treatment include the availability of emergency blood centers and 24/7 laboratories. The key is Coxen Hole’s Satuye Hospital, which stores Roatan’s blood supply. The typically stored supply of 10 to 12 pints of blood is small and easily depleted. “The biggest necessity is the blood bank, 10 to 12 pints of blood, and those can be drained with just a couple of motorcycle accidents,” said Jackie Woods. While the island’s Red Cross has a list of several donors with AB blood type, the price per pint is $60 to $70.

After operating for years at the mall in French Harbour, CEMESA is currently closed. CEMESA purchased a house from the former Roatan mayor at the intersection of Jackson Road and Main Road in Brick Bay and is working to open sometime in 2026.

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!

Blaze Consumes Large Portion of Fantasy Island Resort

Wilmer Guerrero, Roatan’s fire chief, said getting water to Ezekiel Cay, where the hotel is located, was difficult because the wooden bridge leading there could not support heavy water trucks. The hotel opened in 1989, and the 250-foot wooden bridge could not support the 50,000-pound weight of a fire truck carrying 3,000 gallons of water.

At the time of the fire, Fantasy Island was hosting about 60 guests. While guests were safely evacuated to nearby hotels, some lost personal items and documents.

The fire spread because of the high heat and the highly flammable wooden structure of the hotel resort. The buildings formed one continuous structure that allowed the fire to spread with little impediment.

Almost half of the resort was destroyed.

The wind blew from east to west, engulfing the hotel’s wooden structure. The recently renovated lobby, reception area, dining area, kitchen, convention center and discotheque were all consumed by the fire. Also, 36 of the 108 rooms at Fantasy Island were destroyed. In the end, almost half of the resort was destroyed.

The eastern wing of the hotel was spared thanks to heavy machinery. A heavy digger demolished part of the hotel, creating space between the building already on fire and the hotel rooms to the east.

According to Elvin Canales, chief of Fire Department Company B in Dixon Cove, about 900 meters of 2.5-inch water hose was connected to cisterns on the main island. The hotel used two excavators to destroy part of the building so the fire would not spread to the eastern side of the hotel. “Airport firefighters provided the hoses,” Canales said.

The firefighters also placed their only floating water pump, a Kawasaki FJ180V, inside the Fantasy Island swimming pool. Pumping at a rate of 260 gallons of water per minute, the pump was eventually damaged by the intense heat generated by the fire.

There were several devastating fires on Roatan in the past three years. According to Canales, the Fantasy Island fire, alongside the 2024 Roatan Public Hospital fire, are the largest structure fires in Roatan in the 21st century. The French Harbour Hill neighborhood suffered a fire that destroyed 25 to 30 homes in 1990. The Agua Azul packing plant also was destroyed by two fires.

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.