Cabañas on Clark’s Cay, Guanaja, Honduras

Dear Fellow Diver,

Sometimes the adventure in going to less-traveled dive locations starts with the travel. On this trip in February, the adventure began with a 15-minute flight in a four-seater chartered Cessna from the island of Roatán to the island of Guanaja. I enjoyed the great view, but for one friend, it was a white-knuckle flight all the way. Upon arrival, no worries about TSA lines, just walk a few steps to the dock, where Clark's Cay's boat crew whisked us to the resort's private isle. (The Guanaja airport is accessed only by boat.) By 1.00 p.m., I had a Salva Vida beer in hand, while I listened to the welcome briefing from one of the owners and manager Lee Gano, who is also developing condos and a marina on Guanaja, near Clark's Cay.

After overnight travel from San Francisco, I was fine with chilling for the afternoon and circumambulating the lovely eight-acre island. My partner looked for birds, and tried out the "circular river" around the pool, powered by Jacuzzi jets. At 4:30 p.m., I settled into the outdoor bar-restaurant for drinks and happy hour snacks -- I ate too many shrimp fritters, but no worries, they brought out more. As I often do, I brought some CDs to pass to the bartender to enhance their music library, but I'm behind times. Here you just ask to use the bartender's phone to makes selections on Spotify.

The next morning, my first dive was at "Spires," typical of the good Caribbean diving found here. (Code word: "Caribbean diving:" calm waters, pleasant, somewhat monochromatic corals, plenty of tropicals, many critters, few larger fish.) We descended to the shallow bottom, cleared our masks and took out our regulators, and passed the checkout. Kennet, our divemaster, slowly led our group -- the four of us who came together and an American couple, both experienced divers -- through a sand channel between patch reefs, where I spotted razorfish, tilefish, yellow-headed jawfish, a tiny sand diver, striped goatfish nosing through the sand and spreading tidbits for wrasses, and a bar jack shadowing them. Kennet found a shortfin pipefish, my partner pointed out a pike blenny peering from its hole, and Kennet got a Peterson shrimp to tickle his finger. (Why does that never work for me?) After 55 minutes, I was at the safety stop, getting a close-up of comb jellies.

Before diving, I had met with the dive team -- two friendly and competent Guanajans, Kennet and Raynel, who have worked at the resort since it opened and daily swap between being captain and dive guide -- to discuss what we four travelers would like. Our slow diving style, with lots of time for exploring, was exactly their vibe, with everyone free to do their thing. Both guides were good creature scouts, helping me add a few little critters to my life-list (with the aid of my magnifying glass for really close-up views). Once, when my vintage high-pressure gauge sprung an air leak on the boat, they replaced a teeny O-ring at the gauge and I was ready to dive.

Pinnacle was another good dive; with the sand bottom at about 130 feet, though I barely broke 80 feet. Near the top of the reef, I swam with big schools of bogas, blue tangs, and creole wrasse and later spotted four species of hamlets -- barred, indigo, black, and butter -- while my partner marveled at the colorful tunicates.

Each morning, we would board the 45-foot boat powered by twin outboards (there is another boat available), which carried a DAN O2 kit. With gear already loaded and set up, we would buzz off at 8 a.m. for two dives, with an hour interval between. It's approximately 10-15 minutes on the south side to sites, and 20-25 on the north side. By 12:30, we would be back for lunch, then head out again by 2:30. One day, we stayed out, and they brought us a fancy lunch in big metal serving trays and containers.

The third dive of each day had me back at the dock by 4.00 p.m. for several hours of the Caribbean 3 Rs: rum, relaxation, and romance. At Clark's Cay, it's easy to love the down time. I'd shower off by the pool, then hit the hot tub before going to my room to change, and then join my partner and friends for happy hour.

Everything about the resort lived up to the "wow" service advertised on the Clark's Cay website. My cabana (#1), in a duplex, was spotless and spacious, with a modern bathroom and AC, which I appreciated in the afternoon's high 80s (low 70s at night). It had a wrap-around porch for visiting and reading. (One couple at the resort told me they had used Google maps to scout the layout and picked Cabana #7 before reserving.) The staff replaced beach towels as often as I wanted, and if I left dirty clothes in the hamper, they would be washed, dried, and before happy hour, returned folded (a bit over the top, perhaps: I really didn't need my underwear folded, but that represents how everyone attended to detail.) On Valentine's Day, the towels on the bed were folded into two swans in love with a red hibiscus.

In the center of the property, La Casita served as a central office, where I'd get my early morning coffee and cold drinking water to resupply my room. (Guests receive water bottles with their names on them.) In the evenings, divers sat around the bar/restaurant tables poring over Paul Humann ID books, checking emails, and telling stories.

My always-eager-for-food friend marveled at the white board's detailed dinner list. I sometimes email in advance to a dive resort to request local food, having had enough of Mom's spaghetti in decades past. Here, you will get some Honduran touches, but the real "wow" showed up in the great buffet meals at the outdoor eating area and bar. A typical breakfast was a cheddar omelet (or eggs made to order), ham and cheese roll-up, mango crepes, fresh fruit, avocado, yogurt, and chismol (Central American pico de gallo raw salsa), with melon juice. Chef Daniel served up four-star lunches and dinners on the mango-wood tables. A typical dinner was carrot ginger soup, smoked pork ribs, blackened grouper, mac and cheese, roasted vegetables, salad, and strawberry cheesecake for dessert. The last dinner was Capirotadas (Honduran dumpling soup) followed by Argentinian mixed grill of Chimichurri beef tenderloin, lobster tails, and grilled veggies, twice baked potato, salad, and then coconut flan. I've been to a number of small dive resorts and never had a meal like this. The gourmet food was matched by great service, and a bar staffed by Toy, who had fun making a daily special drink. With this great food, I gained a pound or two.

Back to the diving: At Bayman Bay Drop, I stepped off the stern platform into 81°F water (my 3 mm jumpsuit was perfect). Lined with moorings, the reef runs along the north side of the island. I cruised at 70-80 feet along a nearly sheer wall with occasional schools of fish above. In the holes, my light illuminated blackbar soldier fish, a glass eye snapper, long-snout butterfly, and a sunshine fish. I was eyeing a black grouper in the blue when my partner waved me back to see an over-decorated decorator crab. I eased up to reef top to head toward the mooring, among schools of reef fish -- the DM found both a secretary blenny and a diamond blenny -- and pillar coral, staghorn and elkhorn. Later, owner Lee, who dived with us a few times with a slate to record the quality of the reef; said he thinks they are among the healthiest in Caribbean. Indeed, there was a good share of staghorn and elkhorn new growth; however, I think Cuba's Jardines de a Reina and perhaps Belize's Glover's Reef clearly edge it out. Warming oceans and acidification are taking their tolls everywhere, sadly.

For our night dive, we arrived at Sebastian Reef at sunset and waited for dark to envelop us. Once in the water, the first 10 minutes over the grass produced only one small coral head with urchins, anemones, and a miniature spotted moray. In contrast, on the reef, my light darted from one critter to another. Dozens of basket stars spread out, catching the zooplankton, while the usual suspects were all there: sleeping parrotfish, tiger tails poking out, boxfish toddling about, an octopus out hunting, and grunts filing off the reef for their nighttime hunt in the turtle grass. The water was loaded with cardinals, and when the DM flashed his light, I saw one quickly become a squid's dinner. After lingering to admire a big patch of beautiful corallimorphs, I had two first sightings: a bearded sea cuke waving its creepy little tentacles, and a free-swimming mystery eel, which I followed but never IDed. The DM called it a "false eel," which means nothing to me or my web search. After an hour underwater, I passed up my weights, climbed the ladder, peeled off my gear, and Raynel handed me a delicious hot chocolate.

On the off-afternoon, they took us on a tour of Bonacca Town, home to half of the 6,000 (locals claim 10,000) people on Guanaja. It's a funky Honduran Venice, built entirely over water, with water taxis to reach the island. I talked to a friendly guy, who said "tell your friends to come, but not too many." He knows the problems that come with gaggles of gringos buying up everything. He and I know that's coming, because money wins out. Indeed, Lee, the manager and part-owner, pointed out the acreage where they plan to construct condos and a marina.

On Friday, our last dive day, the first dive was Black Rock Canyon, where volcanic rock crevices and a cathedral give a different look. I saw more big fish than on other dives: dog and cubera snapper, Nassau and black grouper, a big midnight parrot, and tag-along nurse sharks that I saw at a few other sites. This is now a protected area, so hopefully, the big fish will find safe-haven and return. Raynel and Kennet speared lionfish to reduce numbers and fed them to nurse sharks, turning them into pets. In the holes along the crevices I found interesting inverts, and a peppermint basslet, and in the sand sailfin blenny.

While snorkeling in the turtle grass around the islet (no shore diving; too shallow), I came across heart urchins, upside-down jellies, and juvenile fish -- it wouldn't occupy a non-diver for long. But snorkelers could join the divers on trips to the shallow sites.

On the last day, happy hour was the time to sum up the diving with old and new friends (where I had to tear away one of my friends from his laptop, where he was already preparing a PowerPoint for when he returned to work). We agreed it's good Caribbean diving. Since we had windy days all week, our diving was predominantly on the lee side of the island, so we missed favored sites such as Jim's Silverlode, Vertigo, and the Jado Trader wreck. We expected no pelagics, no big stuff, and there was none; but, there were plenty of tropicals, some interesting reefs, and if you like poking around for interesting fish or critters, you may very well add a few to your life list.

As for the resort, it's pretty much "wow" all around: the surroundings, the staff, the dive operation, and certainly the food. If the resort was full-up at 20, I don't know if the service would be so impressive. Lee said they are only full when they get dive club groups, so maybe that would help keep things going smoothly. It is a fine resort for dive clubs, as long as the divers aren't demanding, and divers with little experience. And for nondivers? You'll be able to polish off a good book or two.

--M.A.

Our Undercover Diver's Bio: I've been diving for over 30 years, all over the Caribbean, mostly in less-traveled places. I've written a number of articles for UC, and sometimes I get ideas for fresh places to check out from Ben. That's how I got to Clark's Cay; UC had a short blurb about a new upscale dive resort off Guanaja. I care about the future of our planet and its coral reefs and am active politically to try to save a future for them.

Divers Compass: I made all arrangements online and by phone with Pam, Clark's Cay' agent. I paid $2136, including tax, which included everything, including liquor, with no nickel and diming . . . Nitrox was $120 extra, but I asked for a discount for us four and got $100 off ... There are the paddle boards and kayaks . . . While Guanaja and all the Bay Islands are notorious for no-see-ums, on this tiny islet with no mangroves and sea breezes, my DEET was unopened; but don't count on it . . . They encourage a 10% tip/person into a central pool . . . The round-trip charter flight from Roatan was $195/person ... www.ClarksCay.com