Utila – Week 8, Day 1: A Final Bow in Utila
UTILA
Week 8
Day 1: A Final Bow in Utila
January 01, 2022
First day of the year and our last day in Utila – and we spent half of it asleep. The come-down and hangover were more than any human should ever be expected to handle. It kinda served a useful purpose though – it distracted us from facing the fact that we’d be leaving our home the following morning.
To further aid this avoidance was that New Year’s Eve–style anticipatory feeling you get every year – with or without wanting to. Whilst I didn’t want anything to change, there were a lot of things I was excited for.
First off, the rest of my trip. I still had three and a half months ahead of me, having almost reached five months of travelling. Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras had been a blast. In such a short time, I already had made a lifetime’s worth of memories and so you can imagine my anticipation for the upcoming destinations. Nicaragua, Costa Rica and Panama in Central America, and a few others on the next leg of my journey, were still waiting for me!
Then there was the going back home part – something which, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t quite dreading. While I never felt homesick and could potentially keep on travelling ad infinitum, I knew I’d have to go back at some point. Mostly cause I had a career waiting for me – a job I missed like a mother and one I couldn’t wait to get back to. Then there was my best friend’s wedding in May and getting to see all the crazy people I get to call my family. I actually did miss them a bit by this point – something I had never felt while travelling!
But there was one thing that made me feel excited at the prospect of going back home – all the crazy things I wanted to try in Malta. Like finally getting to dive there and discover its seascape. Not to mention, I could also practice different skills I had learnt on this journey – like paddleboarding, windsurfing and a hundred other things I had never even thought about before my gap year.
One Last Sunset
After a couple of naps and multiple failed attempts at packing that lasted nearly all morning and afternoon, we somehow found it in ourselves to unglue from the bed and go watch one final sunset.
Donning our fresh divemaster shirts, Amelia and I had a photoshoot, finally announcing to the rest of the world that we had achieved the title. Then we headed to the dock and, huddled together, recounted the best memories we had of the island, counting our blessings and thanking something we don’t actually believe in for bringing us all together. It was just pure, unadulterated gratitude. I felt so immeasurably lucky to have had her as my roommate and dive buddy, to have come to know her and become a part of her life. The only thing preventing me from falling apart at the thought of leaving Utila was that she’d be joining me – if only for a short while.
A Round of Goodbyes
Following our picture-perfect moment, Dr Marius joined us. He told us he wouldn’t be able to join us on our trip to Nicaragua and that instead, he’d do everything in his power to meet us some other time in Europe.
Then we did the rounds – thanking everyone one last time and promising we’d meet somewhere else again. I apologised once more to Noah for having to put up with me and my antics all throughout my training – who, bless his soul, reassured me I had nothing to apologise for. Jokingly, he told me not to be sorry, but to be better, and said I was the only student he had learnt from. I thanked Rachel from the bottom of my heart for all her help with my visa and the courses she taught me. Once again, I warned her to get her heart out of her vagina and to put herself first before one final goodbye hug.
Then came Catherine. Her “No’s” had been the reason I’d extended (and become an accidental illegal immigrant). I was dreading this moment – not only cause I’d be saying goodbye to one of my favourite people on the island (and planet Earth), but also because I knew that if she pushed hard enough, I might bail on the rest of my trip and stay. But she didn’t. She told me to go, to take care and enjoy my trip, to consider doing the PADI Instructor Development Course (IDC) someday, and that she’d definitely visit me in Malta at some point. I nearly broke down.
After shedding a couple of buckets’ worth of tears, we gathered the gang and made our way to The Point for our final dinner on the island. Everyone seemed in disbelief that it was our last night. It felt like we’d been there for years, and somehow, everyone just assumed we’d always be around. Sadly, that wasn’t the case, and after a great meal and an even better dessert (Dr Marius’s treat), we headed back to Underwater Vision – one last time.
The Hardest Goodbye of All
As soon as I laid my head on the pillow, I knew I had to stop avoiding it and come to terms with reality – I’d be leaving the following day.
I have to concede that after the storm began and I stopped diving as much, I felt ready to move on. I was getting too comfortable, and there was the rest of Central America waiting for me. I was ready. Still, every time I thought about leaving Utila, my heart winced in pain – even though it’s just a muscle with no emotions. Every day, every moment, I appreciated every single thing about my time in Utila.
- The routine: Waking up a bed away from Amelia – someone I never thought would become so important to me, who by the end felt more like a sister than a friend. Getting up early to prep scuba gear and the boat – something I never imagined myself doing as a job. Wolfing down my egg-bacon-cheese sandwich whilst chatting with Joel and Samantha at the bar. The boat rides – staring at the horizon with the breeze on my face, soaking in the warmth of the sun, feeling like a pirate with Adah’s music in the background and a fresh slice of watermelon in hand. The diving – something that until a couple of months before had been a new hobby and that had now become a passion, a way to experience freedom unlike anything else, and a way to appreciate the other half of the world.
- The dive shop: I can proudly say that Underwater Vision was my home for two whole months. The terrace, the bar, the hammocks, the benches, the volleyball court, the dock, the office, the dorms and the porch. Playing card games, drinking Salvas, eating French toast, watching the sunset, sitting through staff meetings, chatting. Oh, also the sand flies.
- The island: The little green store across the road, Bush’s supermarket, Mama Rosa’s, RJ’s, Tranquila, La Cueva. Strolling along the main road, checking out street art, wandering around the island. Pumpkin Hill, the airport, the caves, the beaches.
- The people:
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- The Crackheads: Emma, Julia and Chad, with whom I started this amazing adventure that was meant to last only a week.
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- The Hostel Gang: Carina, Jonathan, Troy and Vanessa with whom I shared my first Utilan hostel experience.
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- Natalie: My longest travelling companion whom I’d kept bumping into on the way to Honduras from El Mirador in Guatemala.
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- Andreas: The one I fell for in El Salvador who travelled across the continent to come and see me in Utila only for me to friend-zone him.
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- Clive: The force of nature who gave me Sandy Cay, bore his heart out, and whom I adopted as my step-son.
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- Amelia and Dr Marius: The incredible duo who became my best friends on the island.
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- All the other divemaster trainees and divemasters: Liam, Gloria, Aviv, Levi, David, Omar, Eli, Ahinoam, Adah, Ava, Tim, Harry, Louis, Madeline, Jodie, Monkey and Doro.
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- The ones who came and went: Elad, Natalie 2, Michela, Emma, Elijah, Olivia, Marcia, Jasmine, Myriah, Camilo, Rosalie, Tom, Milo, Gary (Amelia’s forever sweetheart), Cory, Quentin, Ella, Emily, Eva, Helene, Carlos, Chloe, Rotem, Jente, Femke, Stef, Lotte, Nathan, Izi, Leah, Tal, Angus, Jemma, Satya, Brittany, Lonneke, and Jonas.
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- The incredible instructors who put up with me: Noah, Catherine, Rachel, Miguel, Buck, Fleur, Jagger, Lucy, Dane, Sophie, Darcy and Jessie.
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- The wonderful staff: Captain Hoover, Jamie, Tammy, Samantha, Kim, Joel and Rossie. Definitely not Danielle though.
- The Mayan Diving God: Perhaps my many encounters with the Diving God back in Tulum, Mexico had something to do with all of this. Who knows?
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- An honourable mention: Last but not least, all the Baby Jesus supporters out there!
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- The experiences: Utila was the land of firsts for me. I ignored my itinerary for the first time and went with my gut. I experimented with stuff. I got my first tattoo. Not to mention all the diving milestones!
- The dreams: As Harvey Specter once said: I have goals, not dreams. But some things are impossible to achieve, and those things I call dreams. Of those, I have three: first, to become a pirate (not a modern Somali one); second, to become a merman (half lionfish, half Chris Hemsworth); and third, to visit a place that featured in the recurrent dreams I had as a kid. In Utila, working aboard the Miss Tamara, tying knots, securing buoys, and just balancing as the boat battled the waves of a tropical storm, made me feel like a pirate. Diving made me feel one with the sea and its creatures, much like a merman. And finally, this island showed me places I couldn’t have dreamed of – some underwater (Ted’s Point, the Aquarium), some above it (Sandy Cay, Pumpkin Hill Beach).