While you and I would have a bit more noise to contend with than the narrator in picking up these sounds, thankfully there are quiet moments when we do. Quiet island moments when we hear what we otherwise would not. Imagine yourself on a wharf at the lagoon in French Harbour at dawn. What is that sound? Imagine wild pigeons cooing in the mangroves, their gentle calls carrying over the dark water.

Since you have taken the trouble to be at the wharf on the lagoon at dawn, listen some more. Hear that sound? That little racket compared to the pigeons? Those are the ching-chings, roosting in mangroves as well, fussing as they begin to take on the day. Then, in the pause between the ching-chings’ racket and the pigeons’ cooing, a sudden, violent splashing erupts in the middle of the lagoon—the sound of a school of mullet escaping a barracuda.

Before taking the pathway to the lagoon, walk along French Harbour Road up the point. In the quiet, you will hear little rippling waves silently and smoothly brushing the white sand just feet from the edge of the seaside road. You may not see them, but there will be small periwinkles clinging to rocks that are half in, half out of the water and green with thin moss. Shiny sharks, each only inches long and with oversized heads and mouths, lie motionless with their stomachs on the sand. They lie hidden between the moss-covered blades of turtle grass in the shallows.

The island abounded with wild hogs, pigeons, parrots and other wild birds.

As a child growing up in French Harbour in the 1970s, quiet could also be found in the middle of the day when the sun was high in the sky. While standing in the mangroves along the canal, you felt your feet gripping the mangrove roots as you steadied yourself, watching a man from the Hill clean a fresh catch of conchs. He had returned from the lagoon and the green and blue waters beyond and had tied his dory in the shade of the mangroves. There, he finished his work before paddling to his home only minutes away.

First, he uses the back end of a carpenter’s hammer to poke a hole at the top of a conch shell. Then, using a butter knife, he expertly pushes the conch from the shell. As he dresses the conch meat with a butcher’s knife, the man carefully checks each slippery, de-shelled conch. You are not certain why he is looking so closely at and poking the de-shelled conchs. Then it comes to you — he is looking for conch pearls. Having had no luck finding pearls, the man completes his work. He then throws the conch waste into the middle of the canal — five heaping mounds in his large, cupped hands. You watch the light-colored conch waste slowly descend in the dark canal water. Your stare intensifies. You know what will soon come.

Tarpon suddenly descend to eat the trash in frenzy. The canal water boils from their sudden turns beneath the surface. Water splashes as tarpon jump above the surface. A few large dog teeth snap, joining in the melee. The smaller and more timid fish eat the trash that settles on the muddy canal bottom.

Those are some of the sounds one hears on a quiet day in Roatan. I look forward to the next time I am in the Bay Islands. For one night, surely, I’ll go to sleep early just to be in French Harbour before dawn.

If I lived in Miami, Tampa, or New Orleans, however, the situation would be quite different. In those cities and their surrounding areas, there are many families who have a strong cultural link to either Bonacca, Roatan, or Utila, and to the Bay Islands generally. Some of them had lived there for generations.

While I am not a first-hand participant in any of the Bay Island ‘subcultures’ that have developed in these places, and in others, an important part of nurturing my sense of being from Roatan, and of being a Bay Islander, is through food. That is unsurprising, given the power of a particular taste to transport a person to another place and time.

One recent meal at my home – with the temperatures hovering around 30 degrees Fahrenheit outside – was a meatless ‘dummy’ tapado, replete with Cocos (malanga), Yucca, green bananas, and ripe plantains. Another, this while snow flurries were predicted later in the day, were the Honduran red beans, first soaked in water overnight and cooked from scratch, and white rice. As a side, there was a salad made of thinly sliced cabbage, diced tomatoes, rice vinegar, salt, and black pepper. Both meals you will agree were as simple as the day is long, but each – apart from being delicious – transported my thoughts back to Roatan and the Bay Islands.

Corn pastelitos with a filling of picked fish.

As I look back to my youth, I see a group of rowdy boys playing a pickup football match behind the Ruben Barahona public school in French Harbour. The Honduran-made leather football’s warped shape, combined with the unevenness of the gravelly field, makes a ground pass unpredictable. They could not care less. Most boys are barefoot and are a combination of boys who live on French Harbour Point and up on The Hill.

“Miss Jestane is here!” yelled one of the boys suddenly, and abruptly the game was disrupted. Miss Jestane is on her daily excursion (minus Sundays) through French Harbour. She is selling home-made baked goods. This day, she has pine cookies and pine tarts – my father’s and younger sister’s favorite – as well as square molasses cookies. No sugar-coated donuts this day, nor flour pastelitos. The sales are brisk, and Miss Jestane is soon on her way. The football match slowly begins anew, and some of the boys finish eating their snacks while chasing the warped football.

There were several other women in French Harbour who made traditional foods at home and which they sold in town door-to-door. Another would have been Miss Louise Bertram Wagner, who continues to do so even today.

These foods would have included the staples mentioned already. Others would have been corn pastelitos with a filling of picked fish cooked with onions, the fish having been caught out on the reef or in the harbour. Honduran-made hot sauces were an accompaniment for all pastelitos, with a brand name I recall being ‘Satanás’ (Satan). There would also have been freshly roasted peanuts and cashews, individual portions held in pieces of brown paper folded into cones. Then there was corn hominy – the eyes of the kernels removed individually – cooked in a thick and sweet milk base, with freshly pounded flakes of cinnamon throughout.

This was brought to the fore of my thoughts while eating a traditional island dish, all the while looking out at a northeastern winter.

The 1970’s and 80’s with the growth of the commercial fishing industry, and more significantly the mid 1990’s with the beginning of the development boom, attracted waves of settlers from mainland Honduras to the islands. The second and third generation of these settlers (those born here) now own property and businesses and speak English. The Bay Islands settlements of Barrio Los Fuertes and Colonia Policarpo Galindo are where the voters are, and for the first time in History we have a Governor who was not born on Roatan and whose native language is Spanish.

For the first time, the majority of councilors on the city council are Hispanic, but they are Bay Islanders now and have the strongest voice in local government affairs. This, of course, is why the newer communities that are predominantly Spanish-speaking are developing at a quicker rate (roads paved, rural electrification, potable water); this disproportionate rate of development is compounded also by the indifference of the English descendants and the absence of social cohesion within predominantly Creole and English communities.

I have read quite extensively about the early English settlers on Roatan in particular, and the impression I get is that they were an extremely resourceful and resilient people, working hard at farming and trading and extremely God fearing. I get the distinct impression that they were very disciplined, respected authority, and were prudent about who they put in charge.

Their culture and habitat are rapidly disappearing.

In 1844, even prior to becoming a British Colony, Royal Naval officers visiting Roatan were surprised at how well land regulation among islanders was organized and how the islanders were respectful and considerate of each other. Statistics show us that the Bay Islands produced and exported to the United States 1.8 million bunches of plantains in 1855 and up to 3.6 million by 1859. By the turn of the century, 5% of the total national exports came from Bay Islands farms . And why did this come to an end? Much as most good things in the Bay Islands come undone, instigated by Tegucigalpa (ergo Central Government).

Lt. Colonel Juan Barahona (Tegucigalpa appointed Governor 1917-1919) put pressure on Bay islanders applying huge levies thereby forcing them to sell to the mainland for much less than what they were selling to the US for and eventually this, compounded by Hurricanes was the end of the era of Agricultural success of the Bay Islanders and the first successful attempt at Honduranizing the Bay Islands.

Bay Islanders need to wake up and realize that their culture and habitat are rapidly disappearing under their very noses, the environment is being stressed to the breaking point (we will soon be an eroded Haitian wasteland with no water resources) and the central government walking away with millions in tax revenue that we could use here for roads and waste to energy plants. Bay Islanders need to be inspired by those intrepid, brave, resourceful men and woman who came before them like Uwins Elwin, Joseph Cooper, the Haylocks and the Kirkconnells.

Independence is a pipe dream – it is unconstitutional and would not garner any international support. Let’s be realistic but autonomy is feasible and can be negotiated within the framework of Honduran and international law; but this requires leadership and the age old Islander ingredients of initiative, grit, and resourcefulness. The ZEDES debacle showed us that it was possible to work together towards a common end, Spanish and English Islanders alike. Bay islanders of all ethnicities need to take charge of their birthright once more and right the ship before it capsizes, we still have time.

Percentage of Islander Children with Disabilities Grows

Forty children were evaluated on the first day of the visit at the French Harbour’s Adventist Medical center, which currently serves as a temporary non-emergency facility after a fire destroyed the Roatan public hospital.

One of the caretakers who came on October 31 was Victoria Cabreras, from Flowers Bay. She brought in Ian, her 10 year old grandson, for the preliminary evaluation. Little Ian did not speak until he was six years, and communicates infrequently. “We’ll see what the doctors will say, and so that we can help him,” said Cabreras.

After three days, a total of 140 children had been attended to. However, many other children with disabilities did not come. In 2015, a government medical census team visited Roatan and registered 112 people with disabilities, including 25 children.

Parents don’t know where to go and don’t know where to turn.

According to Connie Silvestri, founder of CATTLEYA center for the disabled, the parents of disabled children are often afraid that the child might run onto the street and be injured by a passing vehicle. While some parents see this strategy as their only tool of how to keep their disabled child safe, often that is not what the child needs. “Ignorance is such a big issue. With ignorance comes abuse,” said Silvestri. “They [the disabled children] get beaten a lot. They get tied down, they get chained down.”

Repeatedly these parents don’t know where to go and don’t know where to turn. The disabled children are often misunderstood and suffer in silence. “The children can’t express what they are feeling and they can’t talk to anyone,” said Silvestri.

In 2012 Silvestri has launched CATTLEYA with a part time teacher and two volunteers. CATTLEYA which stands for “Con Amor, Trabajo y Terapia, Logramos Educar y Avanzar” -With Love, Work and Therapy we Educate and Advocate is an island NGO that has a school component called CEDICA – “Centro Educativo de Desarrollo Inclusivo Cattleya” (Educational Center for Inclusive Development) where children and adults come to receive specialized attention.

The NGO is located at the Jackson Memorial Library in French Harbour. CATTLEYA makes it by with what it has, and sometimes it is not much. CATTLEYA has several sponsors that help out – Max Cable provides free internet, Arcos gives free water, and Norman family has given the use of the building for the last eight years. “Our teachers are not really specialists. None of them are therapists, none of them,” said Silvestri. “My everyday worry is how much more we could be doing. We need to educate the educators.” The three CATTLEYA educators are taking online courses in psychology at UTH.

CATTLEYA is taking care of 36 individuals with disabilities. The center is open from 7:30 am to 4:15 pm, five days a week. While the vast majority of them are children, some as young as four, there are also three adults in the program. To manage such a diverse group of students, the center takes care of their patients in developmental groups, with the biggest group having 13 children.

The children attending CATTLEYA suffer from a broad number of disabilities: autism, down syndrome, traumatic head injuries, and deafness. One disability dominates above all the rest, however. “More than half of the children here have autism,” says Elizabeth Peña, the director and math teacher at CATTLEYA.

According to Silvestri, there were no autistic kids on Roatan in the 1980s or 90s. Since Silvestri’s son was born with Down syndrome in the 1980s, she has been paying attention to families with special needs children on Roatan. Back then the island was relatively small, and the community living here was tight knit. The first known cases of autism on the island appeared in mid 2000s.

The origin and the frightening increase of autism rates was a taboo subject in the US, and in many ways in Honduras. In the 2024 United States presidential election, Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s candidacy for president brought badly needed attention to the issue of childhood vaccinations and autism. Kennedy has been nominated to head the Department of Health and Human Services, and has shown documents linking the American health crisis to an explosion in required childhood vaccines.

Frightening increase of autism rates was a taboo subject in the US.

While only one in 1,000 US children in 1995 had autism, in 2024 that number has risen to 1 in 25 children. The official government stance in the United States and Honduras is that the causes of autism are a great mystery; there are powerful interest groups vested in not determining the cause of autism. The pharmaceutical industry is one of these groups. “We got all of these new vaccines, 72 shots, 16 vaccines… And that year, 1989, we saw an explosion in chronic disease in American children… ADHD, sleep disorders, language delays, ASD, autism, Tourette’s syndrome, ticks, narcolepsy,” said Kennedy, who wants to test every vaccine to the same rigorous standard as drugs already are.

Autism rates increases are indeed astronomical, and California is a record holder in this tragic category. In the last 35 years, the autism rate in California has catapulted 4,300 percent. In 2020, according to Autism and Developmental Disabilities Monitoring (ADDM) Network, 1 in 22 California children have been identified to be on the autistic spectrum. California is also a national leader in childhood vaccinations.

The increase of autism has not only caused harm to children, it has caused destruction to entire families. “A lot of relationships end because one of the parents never accepted [their child’s disability], or didn’t want responsibility,” said Silvestri. “They abandon the family and leave to start a new life.”

The Smiling Sandy Bay’s Entertainment Duo

Both Walter and Dwin were born in Sandy Bay, a place where many island musicians have their roots. “My father was a music man. I watched them play and I just kept right on,” says Walter about Norman James, his saxophone-playing father. James speaks with a soft, cracked voice. Walter started playing music in his teens. He played the drums, then moved to playing the guitar and eventually lead guitar.

On 1970s Roatan there was no TV or internet, but sounds of musical instruments were all around. One of Walter’s brothers was a trumpet player, and the other played the guitar and banjo. After his brother passed away, their sons: Jimmy, Joseph and Jonny continued the family tradition on music.

As a young man, Walter ran away from the Honduran army and settled back on the island and begun performing. Saturdays were dance nights on the island back then. In the 1970s, he already played for tourists at AKR. “We had Allan Flowers; Polin Galindo wrote songs,” remembers the old times Walter.

In the 1970 and 80s, many island one-man bands or two-man groups entertained the entire Roatan population. There were many solo artists and bands playing all over the island, especially on Saturdays.

Dwin Osly Bodden was born in 1991 in what he believes is Roatan’s music center – Sandy Bay. “If you dig down deep you will find that 80% of musicians are from Sandy Bay.”

At 13-14 years of age he started at 13-14 years old with gospel music at the church of God, “My maternal grandfather, Robert Gorfry, played bass guitar,” recalls Dwin who now sings both gospel and secular music.

If you dig down deep you will find that 80% of musicians are from Sandy Bay.

The Happy Boys due have been together four years. They play at the regular tourist spots: La Placita, Sol y Mar, AKR for the tourists and charity events. Roatan music scene is heading for tourist entertainment route.

The Happy Boys also travel. They have been to Cayman Islands several times, they performed on Utila, Guanaja, and the Mosquito coast. “We play reggae, soca, country and western, Merengue, Cumbia, we are quite versatile,” says Dwin. They don’t write their own songs however. “We mostly follow music, not writing,” adds James.

The shrimping season [La temporada] typically opened on the first day of July. Though some departed at dawn, other shrimp boats began leaving at midnight, one after the other. Their hulls were painted in patterns unique to the owners, colors not easily discernible in the night, But their back decks, all painted white, were ablaze in light with their outriggers spread wide.

Once passing the reef breakers to the port and starboard and with a course set at 110 to 115 degrees, the captains opened up the shrimpers’ throttles and the Cummins and Caterpillar engines roared. There was the Gulf Wave, Silver Seas, Captain Dale-O, Active, Thunderbird, Lady Val, and Lady Barbara, the last two being wood hulls. There was the Captain Carl, Three Brothers, Miss Verna, Sheena Mc and Geechee Boy, the last being a fiberglass hull. And there were so many others, with each becoming a world on to its own for the next three months, the standard length of the first trip of a shrimping season.

In the 1980s, there were some 75 to 80 shrimpers.

On board a shrimper, in addition to the captain, there are the winchman, the cook, and the regular crew. Given the large hauls of shrimp at the start of the season, the regular crew can comprise eight to ten men. At the start of the season, many boats work around the clock, fishing offshore at night and along the beaches during daytime, with the captain holding the 6 a.m. to noon and 6 p.m. to midnight watches, while the winchman holds the other two. The winchman is responsible for the maintenance of the nets and a myriad of other duties. The cook is paramount, preparing two meals per day.

The shrimping grounds are vast and are nowhere near the Bay Islands. Depending on where a captain wishes to spend his first night shrimping, his boat could be running continuously for twelve hours or more before the nets are put down for the first time. On a given night, well into a season, some shrimpers can be dragging the grounds off of Punta Castilla, while others are off of Punta Patuca or Caratasca. Still others are at the same time working up near Cabo Gracias a Dios, or the big open grounds west of Bogus Keys (Cayos Vivorillos) or in the vicinity of The Hobbies (Cayos Cojones).

Competition of Bringing in Maritime Passengers to Roatan is Heating Up

The daily maritime transport of several hundred passengers, sometimes as many as two to three thousand, between Roatan and the mainland is a multimillion-dollar business. Paya Magazine estimates that the annual gross revenue from moving such passengers is well over $10 million. The customer base for the island-to-mainland ferry market is plentiful as Roatan has well over 100,000 residents, Utila around 7,000, Guanaja about 14,000, and there are typically an additional 4,000 visitors staying in the archipelago at any given time.

On October 3, 2023, Dream Ferries inaugurated its Roatan to La Ceiba passenger ferry service. “The island has grown 10x [times] over the last ten years, but the ferry service hasn’t really improved,” said Kenny McNab, founder and CEO of Dream Ferries. A young, driven Roatan entrepreneur, McNab also owns several key island businesses, including a chain of BIP (Bay Island Petroleum) petrol stations, BIP Gas distributors and Dream Ferries.

The Roatan Dream catamaran that services the Roatan to La Ceiba route is the company’s newer, larger vessel. Measuring 140 feet and weighing 186 tons, it can seat 300 passengers and has a total capacity of 520. “We see the need for better connectivity between the islands,” says Kenny McNab. “Our next goal is to connect the islands.”

Until October, Galaxy Wave practically monopolized maritime passenger transportation to and from Roatan for three decades. The only brief period of competition took place 1998-1999, when a boat named The Nautica, owned by Ervin Dixon, competed with Galaxy on the Roatan to La Ceiba route.

Galaxy launched in May 1994 when their boat Tropical undertook its initial voyage between Roatan and La Ceiba. The captain of the boat was the company’s founder, John McNab, Kenny McNab’s older cousin. Today Galaxy is run by John McNab’s two children, Jennifer and Ron. Jennifer McNab serves as the company’s general manager. Ron McNab, who is also the current mayor of Roatan Municipality, serves as the operations manager.

Customer base for the island-to-mainland ferry market is plentiful.

Galaxy has been playing things very close to the chest when it comes to their next moves. Based in Dixon Cove, the company operates two catamarans that run twice daily to La Ceiba and on weekly schedule to Guanaja: the 2006-built 160-foot Galaxy Wave, with a passenger capacity of 450, and the 150-foot Tropical Wave, capable of seating 350. It seems a logical next step for Galaxy to introduce a bigger, faster, and more efficient boat for their Roatan to La Ceiba route. “Safeway has been serving our community and clients for 30 years, innovating and evolving right along,” said Jennifer McNab. “We plan to continue to do so while providing the best service we know how.”

In mid December 2023, Galaxy made a strategic shift, evolving from a maritime passenger company to encompassing both maritime and air travel. Galaxy acquired a substantial stake in CM [Cielo Maya] Airlines, an airline that boasts a fleet of six airplanes. CM Airlines serves eight destinations within Honduras and, in partnership with TAG [Transportes Aéreos Guatemaltecos], offers international flights to Guatemala, El Salvador, and Belize.

CM Airlines, with a hub in San Pedro Sula, now considers Roatan as its secondary hub. Following this acquisition, Dream Ferries faces competition not only from Galaxy Ferries but also CM Airlines for its Roatan, La Ceiba, and Utila routes.

The Galaxy Roatan to La Ceiba ticket is priced at $35, or around Lps. 860, subject to dollar fluctuation. Dream Ferries offers a competitive edge by pricing their tickets for the same route at Lps. 800 per passenger, and Lps. 720 if purchased online. “We have to compete with the airlines. It has to be cheaper for you to take the ferry than to fly,” says Kenny McNab.

The increased competition has greatly benefited Roatan residents. The options for travel to the mainland have doubled, and now there’s even the option to transport two cars to and from Roatan on the larger Utila ferry. “We saw an opportunity to come in with newer, more efficient boats, and with a different schedule,” said Kenny McNab. “There are a lot more options [now] for locals and for tourists.”

The Dream Ferries features newer catamarans with more efficient designs. The Roatan Dream and the 104-foot, 295-passenger Utila Dream are powered by two propellers, in contrast to Galaxy’s catamarans, which are driven by four motor jets. “I have been all over the world and I have seen what they are doing and what we are not doing,” says Kenny McNab. “Step up your game or cease to exist. (…) It’s good for us and it’s good for clients.”

Roatan passengers have certainly taken notice. “It’s super clean, and there is great attention from the staff,” said Paola Dolmo from Coxen Hole, commenting on her first voyage with Dream Ferries. “They even bring umbrellas to you so you don’t get wet getting out.”

Kenny McNab has made strategic land purchases for the Dream Ferries terminal, located directly adjacent to Galaxy terminal in Dixon Cove. He plans to build a hotel for business travelers right next to the terminal. Dixon Cove is on track to becoming a central hub for passenger travel, cargo, and business accommodations in the Bay Islands. In the future, passengers might be able to walk just a few yards from a Dream Ferry to the Galaxy facility to the east.

The design of the Dream Ferries terminal stands out for its minimal use of walls or barriers, embodying a different concept of how a ferry terminal should look and feel. Similar to their setup in Utila, passengers on Roatan can now purchase a Dream Ferry ticket and proceed directly to the boat. Dream Ferries opts not to spend time scanning for weapons or drugs, resulting in cost savings for the company and time savings for passengers. “It’s an open concept design, access is more free. If you want to come up to the ferry and take a photo, you can,” said Omar Martínez, manager of operations at Dream Ferries.

Kenny McNab launched the Dream Ferries project in 2013 with his friend Richard Watler. “He saw the need for improved service from Utila to La Ceiba,” said Kenny McNab. Watler, a Utila native who had lived in New Orleans for most of his life, was also a golf buddy of Kenny’s. “It took us six months to design and 18 months to build,” said Kenny McNab. The inaugural service started on October 29, 2015, with the route from Roatan to Utila via the Utila Dream ferry beginning in early 2016. The company launched its ferry service with a brand new 104 foot Utila Dream, capable of accommodating as many as 240 passengers. “It was a struggle at first. I remember days we had one or two passengers,” Kenny McNab recalled. Watler sold his share to Kenny McNab about a year after the launch of the Utila Dream ferries. “The competition was heated when we started,” Kenny McNab remarked.

The company responsible for building the two Dream Ferries catamarans is also a partner in the business. Midship Marine, based in New Orleans, operates a yard specializing in the design and construction of lightweight aluminum watercraft up to 225 feet long. Midship Marine has a track record of notable projects, including the construction of the 118-foot Utila Aggressor II and a ferry servicing the route between Puerto Juaréz, Mexico, and the islands of Isla Mujeres and Cozumel.

There is plenty of room for growth for ferry services in the Bay Islands. “The long term mainland [goal] is car passenger [ferries],” said Kenny McNab. “Roatan has a lot better roads now than before. (…) We are already moving cars on Roatan Dream.” The Roatan Dream catamaran can carry two cars, charging Lps. 9,000 per car, with the driver traveling for free. It’s an attractive option for tourists coming with a luxury vehicle to Roatan. According to Martínez the ferry moves around three vehicles a week.

Kenny McNab is exploring using Puerto Cortés port as a base for reaching Roatan. “The car passenger ferry would have to operate out of Puerto Cortés,” he said. “It would be a five hour run, compared to an hour and a half.” While Puerto Cortés is an extra 47 miles farther from Roatan than La Ceiba, its port ties in to a brand-new road network in Honduras and offers much better port facilities.

He plans to build a hotel for business travelers right next to the terminal.

The Roatan to Puerto Cortés route would circumvent the congestion and delays of travelling to La Ceiba, and makes travel to Roatan more feasible for visitors from San Pedro Sula, Tegucigalpa, and even Guatemala. The La Ceiba port has faced challenges with inconsistent dredging of the port entrance, leading to issues with vessels scraping the bottom, needing to turn around, or even sinking. “If it wasn’t for that, we would have even bigger boats,” said Kenny McNab.

There are still additional passenger and car passenger ferry routes that could be developed. One such route is Roatan to La Mosquitia. With thousands of Misquito natives living on Roatan, a passenger service to the less accessible Gracias a Dios Department is in demand. Island Shipping, based in Brick Bay, is another player in maritime transport along Honduras’ north shore. It’s possible that this company could expand to passenger services on their already existing services between Roatan and Puerto Cortés, or even Puerto Lempira and Cauquira.

Bobby is Roatan’s Veteran Singer and Songwriter

His musical journey has been a long one. It began when he learned to play a few guitar chords when he was 12, back when JFK was president.
He played harmonica in Chicago’s north side blues clubs. “I got to jam with Eddie Robinson, Mighty Joe Young, and Magic Slim,” says Bobby. “I couldn’t play that good (sic) either, but they let me get up there.”

At 23 Bobby was working as a substitute teacher at his old high school when a friend of a friend mentioned an idyllic island in the Western Caribbean. He was quoting a letter he received from a man named Gordon Ford who lived on Roatan beach, and overlooked a development project for a developer named Bob Plombo.

Bobby tried to look up Bay Islands and Roatan in the local library, “but you couldn’t get hardly anything,” remembers Bobby. Still, the letter was intriguing enough that Bobby forsakes his fascination with Brazil and headed out to Roatan. “The island was a very remote place back then,” says Bobby.

It was 1973, and while hippies were discovering the hippie trail to Kathmandu, Bobby headed out to the Bay Islands. “I came for the adventure. I didn’t have anything holding me down,” Bobby remembers of his first Roatan visit.

For two weeks, he lived in a hexagonal beach house on Palmetto Bay before moving to Crawfish Rock, where he stayed for six months and bought an acre of land for Lps. 1,000 ($500). That purchase sealed his commitment to the island. On the overland journey back to Chicago, through Guatemala and Mexico, he played harmonica every chance he got.

He moved to Roatan permanently in 1974. He lived in Crawfish Rock and French Harbour, supporting his growing family.

Bobby didn’t have any carpentry skills when he first came to the island, but he got his first lesson by preparing posts for his thatched roof house. Within a few years he had a carpentry crew working for him, and, he has supported himself as a carpenter and builder since 1975. A couple of times he had to return to the US to earn a little extra and support his growing family on the island.

His Roatan music adventure developed gradually. His singing debut came in 1981 at the Roatan Yacht Club. It was a place where all the shrimp and lobster fishermen came. “I never sang in my life, but I knew three songs: Rivers of Babylon, Fishin’ Blues and [Me and] Bobby McGee.”

A friend had given him a folder for harmonica music, and someone else gifted him an Ovation fiberglass acoustic guitar that was left behind on a sailboat. His lack of inherent musical skills was overcome by his passion for the music, and before long Bobby’s solo musical career was off to the races. “They didn’t take a long cane and drag me off the stage,” Bobby remembers of his first solo performance at the RYC.

Roatan shaped Bobby Rieman just as much as they shaped his lyrics.

He performed solo from 1981-1996 and wrote his first song “The Roatan song” in the mid 1980s. He played in Bayman Bay Club in Guanaja in the 1990s, and on Utila during the island’s annual Carnivals. “Over the years we played just about everywhere,” says Bobby. “I was in my first band at age 46.”

In 1986 he finally purchased amplifiers. “I was learning, and I was very passionate about that,” says Bobby. In 2000 he recorded his first CD in La Ceiba: “Roatanified.” With Brion James, a professional musician living on Roatan, he recorded two more CDs. All in all, Bobby recorded 34 songs − 33 original and one cover song. “I am proud of that,” he says.

At 73, Bobby still writes songs. His last CD “Putting in Time” was produced in 2017. His song lyrics − just like their titles are melancholic: “Northwest Caribbean Sea,” “Lights are on, but nobody’s home,” “Six Days in between.” Roatan shaped Bobby Rieman just as much as they shaped his lyrics, lyrics that describe the island’s history, idiosyncrasies, quirks, and feel.

Bobby has heard some beautiful voices in his days. He has seen many talented musicians and singers, but one stands out above the rest. “Jeffrey James – that guy had the most excellent presentation and talent with the guitar,” says Bobby. “He was left handed and played the guitar upside down with the low string on the top. He made sounds that you just can’t duplicate.” The two musicians jammed a lot together over the years.

In 2023, Bobby’s band plays at Bananarama on Sundays and at AKR. Bobby’s trio of musicians is called “The Band” and includes two Roatan veterans. Junior Bodden plays the bass and Cornelio Güity is on drums.

Bobby appreciates being heard and creating sound that will live on for decades. “Seeing people moving to what you are doing makes you feel a connection,” says Bobby. “It makes you feel that you are inspiring people to move. That is what music does.”

You can enjoy more Bobby's songs on his Youtube Channel: @bobbyrieman1950

The idea is to create two new tax regimes while eliminating the possibility of joining any of the current 10 regimes. This change doesn’t affect us currently as issuing of new ZOLITUR permits stopped years ago. The Secretary of the Presidency is correct in the video published: they aren’t eliminating the existing benefits, just any future possibility to affiliate.

In the justification for the proposal of this new law, the legislator also cited corrupt practices by all the regimes. Among other abuses stated, were that under ZOLITUR benefits. There are five companies that import twice the amount of fuel the island can consume.

I would like to know where they got the numbers for this statement. We haven’t had a proper census in years on the island, just an electoral one. I want to see the compiled data for what 1 person consumes in fuel according to this study for the Tax Law proposal.

Here is data I want them to show in this tax proposal. Honduras is projected to generate $600 million in tourism revenue in 2023. With two million visitors expected, vast majority of the income is coming from the Bay Islands.

One third of revenue generated by Roatan cruise ships ends on the mainland and stays there. On the other hand cruise ships that dock here, deplete our resources: our water, roads and beaches.

This could open the door to a spike in kidnappings.

As islanders and resident ex-pats we pay plenty in local and federal taxes. On the other hand, what central government invests back here is very little to sustain the natural resources and protect the tourism industry that produces this income for them.

Personally I think that when it comes to tourism in Honduras, Bay Islands leads the way. When it comes to remembering the island for projects from central government well let’s just say we are far from their top priority.

The new law also proposes to eliminate the bank confidentiality to allow the tax offices to freely have access to our bank records without a court order. Every employee that works at the tax office will have the ability to access your bank information. As information about individual cash assets will become accessible this could open the door to a spike in kidnappings like 20 years ago.

Here is where it gets fun for the islands and the field of real estate. The Honduran lawmakers are pushing to eliminate bearer share corporations. This is a problem, as we islanders pay more capital gains tax here than anywhere else in Honduras. We pay on actual sale value and they pay on cadastral value or an assessed value.

We are allegedly charged only 4% instead of the 10% that is paid on the mainland. We pay that tax regardless of affiliation to ZOLITUR for the benefits. I believe that ZOLITUR is doing a fine job spending our money on its projects in sanitation and infrastructure.

The new law makes it sound like we don’t pay any taxes to the government at all. The companies under the ZOLITUR regime still must collect the taxes and pay them to the government. An audit to weed out those abusing the ZOLITUR system is needed, I’m all for that.

Funeral Businesses on Roatan are Looking at a Bright Future

For a-century-and-a-half, Roatan’s caskets were made to order by local carpenters. Even today some people still choose to have a carpenter make their casket.

In 2023 there are three places to purchase your caskets on Roatan. The first one opened by Samuel Alexander Ebanks, 79 and his wife Patricia Elaine Bennett, 78, on the main street of Coxen Hole. Their forty-year-old business, Islander’s Funeral Home, is the oldest such one in the Bay Islands.

Mr. Samuel remembers a voice speaking to him: “When you stay home you got to sell caskets”

When he retired from his sea fearing career, Mr. Samuel remembers a voice speaking to him: “When you stay home you got to sell caskets.” It was 1983 and Roatan had no casket stores. When someone died a carpenter would have to make a simple casket right there and then. The island custom until them was that men would build the casket at night during the wake and bury the deceased the next day.

He had an employee making caskets, another man painting the caskets and then another man would fix the inside. If the family wished a viewing glass, it was installed on the top of the casket.

Eventually Mr. Sam began buying caskets in San Pedro, in Copán, in Tegucigalpa, in Olanchito and in La Ceiba. Islanders from Utila and even Guanaja would travel to their funeral home to purchase a casket for their deceased family member.

In 1980s and 1990s mahogany was still inexpensive and majority of caskets then were made on the island used this hardwood as the main material. “The first casket I made was a mahogany casket,” remembers Mr. Samuel.

Samuel remembers the best cabinet maker he ever had. Edmundo Ponce was from the coast, and he could make the finest casket even if all he had was scrap wood. He once made a Copa de France design casket using throw away pieces of wood. “The foot is round, and the head is round,” says Mr. Patrick. “DV Woods bought that casket for his daddy.”

Not every deceased is shaped the same and Mr. Patrick has to be ready to make caskets for smaller and bigger deceased. “Sometime I have to make a big casket.… I had to buy one inch plywood and had to make 36 inch wide casket. She was big,” remembering one such client Mr. Patrick says “It took 10 men to put her in that house.”

His caskets range from Lps. 25,000 to Lps. 35,000, but he has some economical models for Lps. 12,000. While on a typical month his funeral home would sell one, or two caskets, they sold 15 caskets in one month. “When the Covid 19 came to the island, it was the most we sell,” says Mr. Patrick. He has a network of casket makers.

In 2012 a second Roatan based funeral home opened its doors just 200 meters down the road from Islander’s Funeral Home. Divino Paraíso is one of 12 funeral homes opened in Honduras by Salvador Laro from La Ceiba. Laro opened his first store in 2009 and the Roatan operation in La Punta in Coxen Hole begun two years later.

The funeral home serves the entire spectrum of caskets, from Lps. 8,000 to Lps. 38,000. The Wood composite caskets are the most economical option, while the painted and varnished wood caskets at Lps. 38,000 are the ultimate luxury.

Osiris Zambrano and her husband Ronald Rojas have been managing Divino Paraíso for 11 years. They are the biggest vendor of caskets on Roatan and typically have about twenty caskets on hand.

According to Zambrano there was a spike of caskets purchases in 2020 when the funeral home was selling 15-20 caskets a month. Now they are back to pre 2020 levels with sales of two to three caskets a month.

Funeral traditions on the island are different then of those on the mainland.

One reason allowing the funeral home to grow is funebre, a contractual payment option where clients are contacted to begin paying off their caskets in monthly installments. “It is an option for the most humble families,” says Zambrano. These monthly payment vary from Lps. 300 up to Lps. 2,000 and the family has up to eight months to pay off the casket after the death of the client.

Mrs. Zambrano says that the island’s security companies are one of the Divino Paraíso’s best clients. “They pay up front in any of their employees dies,” says Zambrano.

The funeral home can move the body in a vehicle and have 25 chairs, casket stretcher, candelabras, altar that can be used during funeral services.

The funeral home also offers Embalming services. The Embalming is an option taken by all, but the most modest of their clients. The embalming costs Lps. 2,000 and Lps. 4,000. The service is more expensive if the person was overweight or if there was disfigurement at time of the death as with “people who died in motorcycle accidents,” for example.

The funeral traditions on the island are different then of those on the mainland. “I don’t think the islanders would want a funeral room like the store has in La Ceiba,” says Zambrano. “There are hundreds of people that show to funerals here, and there just wouldn’t be enough space.”

The funeral home works with importing of human remains to the island form abroad. The remains are typically flown in to San Pedro Sula and then transported by road to La Ceiba and to the island via Galaxy Ferry.

Cemetery burial is one of several options for the deceased on the island. Jardines del Recuerdo in San Pedro Sula offers cremation services in Honduras. According to Zambrano this option is typically taken by foreigners. Burial at sea, usually three miles out to sea, is sometimes an option taken by foreigners with few economic means.