Utila – Week 1, Day 3: Wrecks and Bioluminescence
UTILA
Week 1
Day 3: Wrecks & Bioluminescence
November 15, 2022
PART I
Ooof, long, long day! Started off slow, but then a hell of a lot seemed to have happened at one go. I got up early, my throat still sore from the previous day’s karaoke, ecstatic at the idea of spending yet another day here in Utila.
All groggy and chewed out, I made my way to Underwater Vision to continue my diving adventures. This time round, I’d be welcomed with a knowledge review, which meant going over an entire book to answer some questions on a test. Years of med school trained me to just scan for the important bits and skip the rest, something which let me finish the damn thing in an hour or so, while Chad and Emma trudged behind – refusing my help.
Admittedly, getting to chill on a hammock with a freshly squeezed melon juice was a much better alternative than studying. I was still on holiday, after all.
Wreck and Roll
Then it was time for the actual fun part – diving. And of that, we’d have our fair share: two afternoon dives and a night dive. Our first would be quite simple and uncomplicated – a 30-metre dive to the Halliburton Wreck, a ship deliberately sunk some 20 years ago by a dive school.
Turns out this is common worldwide, with wrecks being popular not just for their charm, but also for the wildlife that overtakes them in time. Also, something I learned while in Utila: Malta (my very own motherland) is home to some of the best diving in Europe, with wrecks being our specialty. Nifty, huh? I genuinely couldn’t wait to go back (for the first time in my life) to start exploring them. But now it was time for the Halliburton. And we wouldn’t even have to practice any skills – just a fun dive!
We made our way to the dive site and, once geared up, jumped into the sea. As we descended, we could see the wreck right beneath us, having to stop only cause Emma was having trouble equalising. After a few minutes, Noah decided she’d continue the dive with another group while I joined Chad and Clarissa as their buddy. The ship, some 19 metres tall and 30 metres long, is truly a sight to behold, especially for someone on their first wreck dive.
We started at the base of the ship, where coral had taken over its entire sides, fairy basslets and angelfish swimming around it mindlessly. Then we went over its deck – a grid with recesses full of coral and sea plants – and peeked through a door that stood at the front, though we couldn’t access it without a wreck specialty course. But honestly, that felt good enough. Everything around the ship seemed fascinating in and of itself. We continued spiralling upwards, accompanied by a large snapper, until we had explored the entire exterior from bottom to top, its roof practically covered in rod corals, making for a spectacular view.
Greg, the moray eel that’s been living in the wreck for years and is known to all local divers, pulled a no-show this time round – much to my disappointment, since I had never seen one before. Still, it was an incredible experience throughout.
Monkeying Around
Meanwhile, Emma was having quite an adventure of her own. She was paired with Olivia, a 19-year-old Aussie who’d been on the road for the better part of a year (you go girl!), and Monkey – an American guy in his late fifties. Yes, he actually goes by Monkey.
Turns out Monkey’s a retired respiratory nurse turned skydiving instructor. His real name’s John, but since five other Johns worked at the same place, he got rebranded. Whatever floats his boat, I guess. According to Emma, the second he got in the water he started trembling with a mix of excitement and anxiety, but he pushed through. After five minutes, Olivia had to surface due to severe ear pain. At the same time, Monkey had equalising issues – something that took him 20 minutes to accept, effectively cutting Emma’s bottom time to a few measly minutes, at which point Noah took her down for a quick visit to the wreck. After the whole ordeal, Monkey kept coming up with all sorts of excuses – blaming the girls for his equalisation problems…
Next up: buoyancy training at Half Moon Caye Wall. Here, Noah and Liam explained we’d practice more skills on a sandy patch, focusing on our buoyancy. Needless to say, both Emma and I looked at each other helplessly, knowing we were gonna screw up big time. “It’s gonna be fun!” they reassured us.
First up: buoyancy. We had to float midwater flat, then in Buddha pose, and finally upside down. Then we’d have to swim through a square plastic tube – first forward, then upside down, and then a U-turn through it. To top it off, there’d also be a race and a human pyramid. Easy, right? Not for Team Crackhead – or so we thought. Turns out, we nailed almost everything, while Chad and Clarissa struggled. Cue us flashing the “friggin okay” sign (IYKYK) and bragging shamelessly.
Into the Deep: Night Dive at the Aquarium
We headed back to Underwater Vision, wolfed down whatever we could find (they make the best crispy chicken burger), then geared up again for the night dive. We’d begin right at sunset – giving us time to adjust to the dark and experience the underwater world of the Aquarium dive site at night.
Much to our dread, Emma and I had to redo our navigation exercise – this time in total darkness. Me being me, I failed to understand Liam’s start signal, but after some exasperated gesturing, I finally got it – and nailed it on the first try. I did cheat a bit though – I followed Liam’s flashlight instead of the compass on the way back (which he later admitted he angled toward me cause he knew I was directionally challenged). Emma, meanwhile, got completely lost, and I had to drag her toward Liam with my instincts on overdrive. But then we re-joined the group and finally got to enjoy the dive.
And lemme tell ya – diving at night is something else. You literally see the ocean go to sleep while another part wakes up. With our torches on the coral walls, we could actually see the bright colours at 30 metres – reds, oranges, and yellows lit up like Christmas. We saw shrimp, lobsters, and even an octopus in full glory. After we swam for a while, we arrived at a sandy patch where Noah had us form a circle and sit on our knees. Here, he signalled us to switch off our flashlights and to move our arms up and down like crazy. We didn’t quite know why we were doing it, but he had told us he had a surprise in store for us… And boy was he right. Trailing behind our hands, the agitated water started to glow. Bioluminescence… It reminded me of my night hike in El Mirador when we came down from one of the pyramids and the jungle was all aglow with fireflies. Truly an indescribable feeling, to be suspended in water surrounded by thousands of tiny specks of light. It felt like I was flying in a starry sky! Absolutely magical.
To finish, we were made to hold hands and swim in pitch darkness to help build confidence and adjust to moonlight. I loved every second. The others, however, would probably beg to differ, given that most of them crashed into rocks and corals alike, whilst carrying Emma and I who swam comfortably in the middle without so much as a scratch. Noah swore this had never happened before. But all’s well that ends well, I guess.
Once at the surface, everyone was freezing and shivering, all wet after the dive, the cold wind blowing harder than ever as the boat rode away. I, for one, didn’t mind it one bit. I felt alive. The adrenaline had kicked in and I felt more alive than ever. I started at the black horizon, broken only by the shimmering reflections of the moon over the waves. Right at that very moment, I felt like I could do this for the rest of my life. To be out in the open sea – a calling I hadn’t felt since I was a young kid. A calling I have dismissed for the better part of my adult life – always saying becoming a pirate was one of my three impossible dreams (along with becoming a merman and finding this mystical place I had recurrent dreams about when I was a kid). But this was yet another dream and not a goal.
My goal was to become a successful surgeon – neurosurgery, my one true passion, was still waiting for me. Anything else would be just a dream, a distraction from my one true goal.
PART II
One Special Ceremony
Back at the dive shop, we showered and got ready for the night – all except Julia, who was feverish and had diarrhoea. I checked up on her – doctor mode activated – and reassured her she’d survive. Then Emma and I joined the others on the terrace. A group from Jersey – Tim, Jasmine, Myriah – plus Michela from London, introduced us to a new card game called Scabby Queen (which became Tim’s nickname after repeatedly losing).
Then it was time for the divemaster trainee (DMT) graduation. Finally, the four DMTs who’d been working so hard for weeks to months on end, had finished all their prerequisites to actually become divemasters – a major feat by most scuba divers’ standards. With the DMTs sat in chairs, the instructors fired diving questions at them – each wrong answer equalled one shot of tequila. This was then followed by a rope-tying contest – something I wish I could have joined in given how excellent my reef knots had gotten over the years. And finally, the legendary beer mask-chugging contest. Yup – pour beer into a snorkel mask, clear it by inhaling through your nose and then gulping it down. First to finish wins. Looked insane – and also gave me serious FOMO. But I wasn’t diving that deep yet – Team Crackhead still had a way to go.
Plus, this was something I’d probably never be able to do. I simply had no time in my itinerary – not to mention that diving was just a new hobby for me. I wouldn’t be able to justify spending so much time and money for such a thing! In another life, I could probably be a divemaster and spend my days feeling free whilst out on the open sea – a proper pirate. In this one though… I was too deeply entrenched in my life as a doctor. The fact that I was on a gap year was already more than most people in my position could even hope for! Still, daydreaming about it was nice.
Tequila, Politics, and Wonder
I didn’t have much time to dwell on this. You see, Tuesdays in Utila are synonymous with one thing – binge drinking. In fact, Tequila Tuesdays are best celebrated at Tranquila Bar, where one dollar gives you a shot glass and unlimited refills for an hour. After that? 50 cents a shot. Cheap, dangerous, fun.
Now me, I wasn’t that hyped about it. I grew up watching Grey’s Anatomy, with Meredith and Cristina downing entire bottles of the vile, toxic substance. Being my role models, I used to think they were the epitome of coolness, and as such, I used to drink my fair share of it. Until I almost got arrested. that is. Completely dazed in my drunken stupor, the police scraped me off the floor, took pity on me, and instead called my parents to come and pick me up. It took a long, long while for me to try it again. Back in Mexico, I somehow regrew to like it – but even so, it was only liking not loving. Big difference.
But this is Utila and what happens here… well, you know. And so, I joined the rest of the group without much hesitation. Fifteen shots in, I was definitely regretting it – but man, it was one hell of a night. I hadn’t danced that hard and partied as much in ages, so I just went along with it. And lemme just say, Emma and I were definitely the life of the party – dancing on tabletops while doing my reputable Car Dance (don’t ask).
Owing to the fact that the bar was hot and stuffy as hell, apart from me being an old soul that’s aversive to loud music, I made my way to the bar’s terrace by the sea. Here, the gang from my hostel were all sat down, busy discussing something or another. The minute they spotted me, they asked me to join them, with Vanessa wanting to discuss something urgent with me.
I was expecting something flirty, instead, she caught me off guard when she told me she had listened to a podcast about Daphne Caruana Galizia – an internationally renowned Maltese investigative journalist who linked several people in power involved in the Panama Papers scandal and was murdered in cold blood. Politics has always been one of my favourite things to discuss, especially with a drink in my head that has me let go of all my inhibitions and speak out as loudly and passionately as can be. And that was that for the rest of the night. I was hooked. With tears in my eyes and fire in my guts, I told her all about the corruption that brews right under our noses back in Malta, the same thing most of us choose to remain silent about, the very same thing that makes me want to leave the god forsaken island. I couldn’t stop thanking her for acknowledging our struggle, that even just knowing about it is somehow empowering to me, a Maltese citizen who believes in freedom of speech and equity.
I couldn’t believe I was having such a conversation under a such a clear, starry night in Utila, Honduras. Who the hell would have thought? That I’d meet a complete stranger from Australia who knew about Daphne. That I’d ever be in Honduras. It felt like I was living someone else’s life. My life seemed completely unrecognisable to the one I had left behind.
When Dreams Get Loud
Maybe it was the openness of the night, or the string of serendipitous conversations, or just the sheer dislocation from my normal self – but I ended up doing something I’d never done before.
And so, when Carina approached us and offered us a dance with the powdered devil, I forewent all my inhibitions and the limitations I had always set on myself and decided to just go for it. I had always kept myself from experimenting only cause I don’t trust myself and if I know that if I can feel that good, I’ll want to chase that high forever. But here it’d be different – it’d be a one off, or maybe something I’d do occasionally during this once in a lifetime trip. I broke a rule I’d always stuck to. Out of curiosity, rebellion, or maybe just a desire to see what would happen if I let go. And, thanks to Carina, I had a safe space to do just that.
To be honest, I didn’t feel much. At least not physically. I expected this rush of euphoria to hit me but it never quite did. But my brain was buzzing. Conversations felt raw, clear, direct. In fact, when Liam and Emma joined us a few minutes later, I found myself asking him all about his experiences in the military at the Gaza Strip without much hesitation and fear of breaking boundaries. I asked him one question that still echoed in the back of my head after my discussion with Jonathan in El Mirador, Guatemala. “Did the power ever get to your head?”, to which he confessed that it sometimes did. However, he added, being a jet pilot means that his actions affect places and people that are far away from him, with the repercussions being easily overseen, and that for him, it was much more of an adrenaline rush rather than anything else. Emma , being a fully qualified lawyer with a special interest in humanitarianism, had a lot to say about this, with all of us condemning the Israeli government’s stance with regards to the State o Palestine. As difficult as it is to have such conversations, we all managed to keep level-headed throughout. In fact, Liam ended it with a compliment – calling us Crackheads his favourite students ever.
After yet another long conversation, everyone started heading back, all wiped out after such a long day. I, on the other hand, could have gone at it all night. In fact, when I finally stumbled back to the dorm, I lay awake in this strange, calm intensity. My thoughts racing, but not in a panic — more like a stream of clarity. It was this internal dialogue on turbo between me, myself, and I. I had read somewhere that it does that to people with ADHD – that it makes them think and feel more clearly by improving executive and behavioural function. Maybe that had been it all along. Maybe it took me breaking character to discover this.
Regardless of the why and how, it made me question a lot of things: my rigid itinerary, my goals, my identity. And I kept circling towards one thought – I love Utila. I couldn’t imagine myself leaving at the end of the week. I had made this perfect itinerary which allowed me to make the best use of my time, and, so far, it was all going well. But now I found myself at cross-roads. Can I allow myself to be more flexible and just go with the flow, much like my fellow backpackers seemed to be doing? Do I follow the itinerary or stay longer? Should I chase the moment instead of the map? I pondered that all night long, tossing around, unable to sleep.
Stay wild,
Marius
Post-Scriptum
Whilst I was occupied with my whole thing, Chad decided to go for a night swim and jumped from the terrace at the bar. Little did he know that there was no ladder and no other means for him to get back up. And so, in an effort to help him up, Emma stood at the edge and pulled as hard as she could. Natalie, drunk and seeing stars, tried being gallant herself and, walking past Emma, ended up joining Chad – fully clothed and all phoned up. Still mad about missing that!