24 days in Roatán, Honduras

On my first day in Roatán, I learned that coral cuts deep; on my second day in Roatán, I learned that whale sharks are rarer than I thought, even in Roatán; on my third day in Roatán, I learned that no matter how friendly the green moray eel looks, you shouldn't pet the eel, and that my nickname on the island is El Flaco; on my fourth day in Roatán, I learned that if you see a hammerhead shark on a dive that most people will respond with fuck you no way are you serious, because hammerheads here are not all that common; on my fifth day in Roatán, I learned that dive insurance is worth the money, as are the Monkey Lalas; on my sixth day in Roatán, I learned what it feels like to get vertigo underwater; on my seventh day in Roatán, I learned not to play pranks underwater; on my eighth day in Roatán, I learned that I love eating lionfish; on my ninth day in Roatán, I learned that you can buy a dead horse $150 and feed it to sharks 1,500 feet below the surface for another $3,600 (for two people); on my tenth day in Roatán, I learned that eating 17 fish tacos is a terrible idea; on my eleventh day in Roatán, I learned that if somebody named Pinky pulls up to the dock at sunset with a boat full of girls, to get on the boat; on my twelfth day in Roatán, I learned that tequila mixed with vodka and rum is disgusting, but drinkable in a pinch; on my thirteenth day in Roatán, I learned that sometimes you can lose a day; on my fourteenth day in Roatán, I learned that swimming through a sea of pearls while surfacing on a night dive is surreal and beautiful and post-coital; on my fifteenth day in Roatán, I learned that if somebody asks you if you have permission to use the giant water slide at one in the morning, to say yes and hurry up the fun, because it'll probably be coming to an end soon; on my sixteenth and seventeenth days in Roatán, I learned that it's possible to lose a couple of days; on my eighteenth day in Roatán, I learned that sometimes the power goes out, on the entire island; on my nineteenth day in Roatán, I learned that the venomous lionfish really do sting (Mike, oops); on my twentieth day in Roatán, I learned that lionfish are mostly passive but still not always easy to hunt; on my twenty-first day in Roatán, I learned that the island won't let me not come back, and that a hermit crab can be strong enough to drag a foot-long fish across the seabed; on my twenty-second day in Roatán, I learned that spearing a lionfish but not killing it feels awful; on my twenty-third day in Roatán, I learned that spearing a lionfish and then feeding it to a Nassau grouper feels much better; on my twenty-fourth day in Roatán, I learned that when you leave, the island may cry with an afternoon downpour goodbye.