It's been a great two weeks.....thanks!
SURVIVOR RAOATAN: OutDive, OutDrink, OutSleep...CoCo View Day 2
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seaangel
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I have totally enjoyed reading this thread. I know that I am not staying at the favored CoCo View in July, guess I am taking the second choice of Fantasy Island Resort but I am sure looking forward to some of those awesome dives. Just six weeks and counting.
OP
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SURVIVOR ROATAN, Dateline: CoCoView, Day 14, Saturday May 29, 2004
The final episode
Friday evening I went out for dinner, skipping the Lobster and Steak feast at CCV unfortunately, but found a very good new restaurant called appropriately, The View. It is just East down the road about a mile (the other direction from Coxen Hole). Jim and Ellen from Dockside drove us over.
Im no expert on describing cuisine (as previously accused in responses here), but it was mighty tasty. We all thee ordered seperately, but asked for the same thing. A beef steak dish on the order of an Argentinian BBQ, liberal doses of seasoning, no lack of garlic on anything (including the mashed potatoes and the breads). We drank 9 beers, had three appetizer/sides, and three beef entrees- the entire bill was $45. This was much more convenient than trudging to the West end and a stunning overlook view of the North side of the island, looking across 15 miles of coastline into the red streaked sunset.
As we returned to CCV at 2100 hrs, we could see that the Friday Night free Rum Punch Party was in full swing on the small cay that lies just West of CCV. This was punctuated by our view across the water of the performance of the Fire Dancers as the spit fire- illuminating the night sky quite spectacularly!
The party featured the usual Limbo Contest, including dancing and merriment by the ladies from the kitchen staff. They definitely had the music in them after a cup of rum punch- and easily dragged the most shy guest into a few dance steps. The limbo contest is one of those events that can be droll or quite amusing, also dependant upon rum punch consumption level as well as they style of dress some of our lady guests select. Men can put on quite a good show as well in our akwardness, but the women always elicit comments of howd she do that?.
I didnt mention that earlier in the week there is the Hermit Crab race, which is quite the way to make big money betting on your favorite crustacean squatter. I just thought Id mention that as it seems to also bring on peculiar behaviors in the guests, also quite likely due to alcohol. :dazzler1:
That being done, the Rum Punch that is leftover the fried chicken consumed, the resort dogs have ambled off, you better go pack all of that smelly stuff into your bags so they can be moved by the DMs for you to the airport.
The worst part of your trip is about to begin
Get up for the 0745 boat ride to the bus, have some breakfast first, then get off and get in line at the airport, did I reinforce that this is the un-airconditioned airport? Stand there in line for 35 minutes (+) and be thankful that CCV has deposited your luggage right at the security screeners.
If the TSA in the USA screened bags like this, we would have no problems. Period. None.
They will meticulously screen the first 10 passengers, then as the lines back up, they moderate their speed by random selection of passengers, allowing several to pass without cavity searches. Every little piece of cr@p had to be mauled, touched, fondled, inspected and gawked. She even started to open a clear jar of sealed honey. I pretty well had enough at that point and literally snatched it out of her hands and held it up and said in my best Spanish, Its honey, its from bees, the bees may be dangerous, but the honey is not. This is apparently (by description) the same inspector that looked at every item that Herself had brought through a week earlier. Every item.
Check in was a snap. TACA is learning to behave. Probably too late as Continental will eat them alive come mid June.
Then, in Honduran fashion, you step thru three separate booths, separated by 5 feet each, where you throw down $25, $2, and $3,,, all to people in the same uniforms, same badges, different reasons. Everybody has their job, everybody stays busy. Could they do it the old way when CCV used to get your departure $ and get all your stamps and tickets for you? Sure. But that would put 6 people out of work. Yes, I said six. Two at each station. Observing each other for money security? Maybe. Placed there for a job?
Absolutely.
Now X-Ray scanning, out of the open, high ceiling and airy ticket counter area, into the hazy mist of the 95 degree exit lounge. The little food bar has no ice. They have Diet Coke and other delights. There is a last chance to buy carved boxes, coffee, cigars- and as you pass thru the ineffective x-ray scan, you can do the duty free shops which still have passable prices on Flor De Cana rum.
And now you sweat.
I was perspiring so badly, that as I presented my boarding pass and my now delaminating US Passport (I kid you not) and as I was directed to the final invasive search of my carry on bag, I used that annoying opportunity to proclaim my absolute disdain for the ridiculous process by changing my wringing wet t-shirt right in front of the little uniformed, blue gloved girl who was doing her damndest to break my camera one last time. Not a pretty sight for her, but thats the breaks of law enforcement.
So ends the worst two hours of your trip.
TACA, you never felt so good. The a/c was cranking when we got on so hard that the vents looked liked a disco smoke machine what with all the vapors. Now, I had offered to pay a first class upgrade, but they said they were full. (4 out of the 8 seats were taken, go figure), and sat down on my seat in Monkey Class. I ate my deli snak and looked at the 1 hour infomercial on the founder of Amazon.com which featured this pied piper genius and his hideous laugh all throughout. (On the way down, the infomercial was about Las Vegas) It was punctuated by real commercials for and by TACA congratulating themselves of being so wonderful and having very hip advertisements that featured a traveler who seemed to have forgotten his pants whilst getting dressed for the flight. Very avante garde. Their Viagra commercials, however, teetered on porno, at least in the double entendre Spanish verbiage. Good liquor cart, excellent red wine, anyway.
Houston? Thats a snap. Welcome home, come on in, you dont look like no Al Queda to me. Toss your bags over here, well run em over to your connecting Continental flight. No problem, no worries. Maybe they were relying on their knowkedge of Roatans invasive searches, maybe we just smelled like innocent SCUBA divers. (Is there such a thing?)
Waiting in Houston. The realization that the world didnt go away- only we did but for a short while. CNN, Wendys, TV monitors they still exist.
NEXT? CoCoView by the numbers how much time, diving, money, sleeping, whatever down to the detail of functional time accounting.
That should be enlightening.
Right about now the new guests are going out for their Sunday Orientation Dive.
The final episode
Friday evening I went out for dinner, skipping the Lobster and Steak feast at CCV unfortunately, but found a very good new restaurant called appropriately, The View. It is just East down the road about a mile (the other direction from Coxen Hole). Jim and Ellen from Dockside drove us over.
Im no expert on describing cuisine (as previously accused in responses here), but it was mighty tasty. We all thee ordered seperately, but asked for the same thing. A beef steak dish on the order of an Argentinian BBQ, liberal doses of seasoning, no lack of garlic on anything (including the mashed potatoes and the breads). We drank 9 beers, had three appetizer/sides, and three beef entrees- the entire bill was $45. This was much more convenient than trudging to the West end and a stunning overlook view of the North side of the island, looking across 15 miles of coastline into the red streaked sunset.
As we returned to CCV at 2100 hrs, we could see that the Friday Night free Rum Punch Party was in full swing on the small cay that lies just West of CCV. This was punctuated by our view across the water of the performance of the Fire Dancers as the spit fire- illuminating the night sky quite spectacularly!
The party featured the usual Limbo Contest, including dancing and merriment by the ladies from the kitchen staff. They definitely had the music in them after a cup of rum punch- and easily dragged the most shy guest into a few dance steps. The limbo contest is one of those events that can be droll or quite amusing, also dependant upon rum punch consumption level as well as they style of dress some of our lady guests select. Men can put on quite a good show as well in our akwardness, but the women always elicit comments of howd she do that?.
I didnt mention that earlier in the week there is the Hermit Crab race, which is quite the way to make big money betting on your favorite crustacean squatter. I just thought Id mention that as it seems to also bring on peculiar behaviors in the guests, also quite likely due to alcohol. :dazzler1:
That being done, the Rum Punch that is leftover the fried chicken consumed, the resort dogs have ambled off, you better go pack all of that smelly stuff into your bags so they can be moved by the DMs for you to the airport.
The worst part of your trip is about to begin
Get up for the 0745 boat ride to the bus, have some breakfast first, then get off and get in line at the airport, did I reinforce that this is the un-airconditioned airport? Stand there in line for 35 minutes (+) and be thankful that CCV has deposited your luggage right at the security screeners.
If the TSA in the USA screened bags like this, we would have no problems. Period. None.
They will meticulously screen the first 10 passengers, then as the lines back up, they moderate their speed by random selection of passengers, allowing several to pass without cavity searches. Every little piece of cr@p had to be mauled, touched, fondled, inspected and gawked. She even started to open a clear jar of sealed honey. I pretty well had enough at that point and literally snatched it out of her hands and held it up and said in my best Spanish, Its honey, its from bees, the bees may be dangerous, but the honey is not. This is apparently (by description) the same inspector that looked at every item that Herself had brought through a week earlier. Every item.
Check in was a snap. TACA is learning to behave. Probably too late as Continental will eat them alive come mid June.
Then, in Honduran fashion, you step thru three separate booths, separated by 5 feet each, where you throw down $25, $2, and $3,,, all to people in the same uniforms, same badges, different reasons. Everybody has their job, everybody stays busy. Could they do it the old way when CCV used to get your departure $ and get all your stamps and tickets for you? Sure. But that would put 6 people out of work. Yes, I said six. Two at each station. Observing each other for money security? Maybe. Placed there for a job?
Absolutely.Now X-Ray scanning, out of the open, high ceiling and airy ticket counter area, into the hazy mist of the 95 degree exit lounge. The little food bar has no ice. They have Diet Coke and other delights. There is a last chance to buy carved boxes, coffee, cigars- and as you pass thru the ineffective x-ray scan, you can do the duty free shops which still have passable prices on Flor De Cana rum.
And now you sweat.
I was perspiring so badly, that as I presented my boarding pass and my now delaminating US Passport (I kid you not) and as I was directed to the final invasive search of my carry on bag, I used that annoying opportunity to proclaim my absolute disdain for the ridiculous process by changing my wringing wet t-shirt right in front of the little uniformed, blue gloved girl who was doing her damndest to break my camera one last time. Not a pretty sight for her, but thats the breaks of law enforcement.
So ends the worst two hours of your trip.
TACA, you never felt so good. The a/c was cranking when we got on so hard that the vents looked liked a disco smoke machine what with all the vapors. Now, I had offered to pay a first class upgrade, but they said they were full. (4 out of the 8 seats were taken, go figure), and sat down on my seat in Monkey Class. I ate my deli snak and looked at the 1 hour infomercial on the founder of Amazon.com which featured this pied piper genius and his hideous laugh all throughout. (On the way down, the infomercial was about Las Vegas) It was punctuated by real commercials for and by TACA congratulating themselves of being so wonderful and having very hip advertisements that featured a traveler who seemed to have forgotten his pants whilst getting dressed for the flight. Very avante garde. Their Viagra commercials, however, teetered on porno, at least in the double entendre Spanish verbiage. Good liquor cart, excellent red wine, anyway.
Houston? Thats a snap. Welcome home, come on in, you dont look like no Al Queda to me. Toss your bags over here, well run em over to your connecting Continental flight. No problem, no worries. Maybe they were relying on their knowkedge of Roatans invasive searches, maybe we just smelled like innocent SCUBA divers. (Is there such a thing?)
Waiting in Houston. The realization that the world didnt go away- only we did but for a short while. CNN, Wendys, TV monitors they still exist.
NEXT? CoCoView by the numbers how much time, diving, money, sleeping, whatever down to the detail of functional time accounting.
That should be enlightening.
Right about now the new guests are going out for their Sunday Orientation Dive.
Hank49
Contributor
Nice to have met you RoatanMan. We chatted a bit in the office at CCV as I came in the eve of the 28 and you left the next day. Great diving. great people. The seas were a bit rough but that made if fun actually. The boat is great. Easy to get back aboard through the shute in the middle of the hull. No hassles leaving the airport when you fly in on Atlantic from Belize. Only about 10 passengers so no lines but you have to get up at 4 am. Well, I'm back in Belize. Back to work but will dive this weekend. I'll get back to Roatan some day. Later, Hank
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