Roatan Insights © November 2001
News from the Honduras Bay Islands and North Coast
November 2001
By Pierre Renaldo, The Coastwatcher©

The following is one of the news releases introducing my newly in-print novel to the press.

The Sky's the Limit
Flying High in W.W.II America

MIAMI, FLORIDA: W.W.II was the catalyst for an entire nation of people. Both those who fought in the war on the front lines and those who stayed behind on the home front. But the story of the domestic efforts of young American men during the 1940's is often overlooked and under appreciated. No longer. From author Pierre Renaldo comes "Red Dog Chronicles" (now available from 1st Books Library bkorders@1stbooks.com or by phone: 888-280-7715 refer to pr6521 "Red Dog Chronicles".)

The Novel "Red Dog Chronicles" tells the story of Giacomo Mauro, nicknamed "Jakie" on account of his unpronounceable Italian name, as he grows up in the industrial city of Buffalo, New York during W.W. II. Jakie is a high school athlete, oarsman for West Side Rowing Club, and running back for the Lafayette High School football team, itching to leave his hometown for the global arenas of war. However, limited by his age, he is forced to stay put for the time being.

But Jakie doesn't allow this obstacle to deter his dreams. He becomes a pilot, flying countless missions both in domestic and international air space during the Korean War. However his most interesting job was for All-American Airways, the airmail airline, and the only airline in aviation history that dropped off and picked up mail on the fly. In addition to discovering his calling as a pilot, Jakie discovers women and all the pleasures and pitfalls they entail.

A host of unique and witty characters joins Jakie on his adventures into adulthood. A true coming of age story, "Red Dog Chronicles" is sometimes humorous and heart-breaking, sometimes powerful and poignant, but always exciting glimpse into a generation that was left behind.

Author Pierre Renaldo, is a retired contractor. Finding a second career in writing he has published several "how-to" books related to construction and retirement in a third world country, in addition to his fictional works.

He also edits an e-magazine, Roatan Insights, and writes a weekly column, Coastwatcher: Caribbean West, both publications being available at: www.eroatan.com and www.roatanet.com, consisting of news from the Bay Islands and the North Coast. He resides on the island of Roatan, thirty-five miles off the North Coast of Honduras.

_________________________________________________

Seeing the book in print for the first time was a very thrilling moment for me. For a guy who hated to even write a three-line postcard, it is a giant step, believe me. And I am also very happy to report that my recently finished novel, "Ironshore" which is a supernatural thriller based on actual events that occurred on Roatan, will be in print early in 2002.

This month I thought it would be appropriate to cover a subject that many of you will find useful as you prepare to come to Roatan for a vacation or seasonal/permanent stay.

There is always some basic rule of good business that needs to be discussed when giving people pointers for doing almost anything. In the likely event you will be doing some traveling in your newly adopted homeland or during you visit here, we will talk about the most common form of transportation besides the foot, the wheel.

Vans, busses and taxis are more than plentiful in Honduras. Unless you are a local who uses any one or more of these conveniences daily it is always wise to determine the price of the conveyance before embarkation.

Example: "Quanto por un persona San Pedro Sula a Tela"? We have just asked the bus driver how much it costs for a one way ride for one person, to Tela, the resort area on the North Coast. These fares are usually non-negotiable, often requiring the purchase of a ticket in advance. Vans operate between San Pedro and Copan` Ruinas and many other destinations and they have fixed fares also.

Taxis are however a very negotiable form of transportation for short haul or long distance. I never accept the first quote from a taxi driver. If he sticks to his outrageous price, I just look for another taxi. They are more common than fleas on a dog.

Here are a couple of pointers to help you out when you are going to use taxi transportation. In Roatan and La Ceiba, you can get a taxi for a fraction of the price you will pay inside the airport perimeter if you just walk out to the main road, which is a very short distance. (We are assuming you have one of those little roller bags that you can wheel out to the main road.)

If you walk outside the gate at La Ceiba airport, you can get a taxi to town for twenty Lempiras 'colectivo' instead of paying a hundred to the exclusive franchisees outside the terminal building.

Colectivo means the taxi is free to pick up other riders in route to make his trip pay. And he can go out of the way to deliver those other riders to their respective destinations. Sometimes he may drop off and pick up four or five other passengers while taking you to your destination. It takes a few minutes longer but in effect, you get a free lunch out of the deal with your savings.

San Pedro and Tegucigalpa terminals are too far from the main road, so you will just have to be a good negotiator when you travel there. I never tip taxi drivers. It is not a practice in Honduras. I make my deal and that is what I pay the guy. He has already built in the 'propina' (gratuity) for himself. In fact, the locals hardly tip anybody for anything.

I think you may be interested in the following information about taxis, since you will use these rented rides more often that any other form of transport, other than your own vehicle.

This is how it works for me when I get to home base at Roatan International.

My baggage has just come off the turntable and I'm hustling out of the terminal. As soon as I walk out the door I am surrounded by at least five guys all asking me the same question in unison, dollar signs popping out of their eyes. "Taxi?"

It gives me a warm fuzzy emotion when I give them my answer. "No Gracias." "I am not a tourista," I feel like telling them, as I make my way to my own car. My bag has those little wheels on it so I don't even have to go looking for a porter to help with my luggage.

Every time I drive away from the terminal in my own car I get that winning feeling, because being a resident and getting past the taxi pack is like filling an inside straight. They won't 'Gringo' me again. Sometimes I even rescue some unsuspecting tourists by giving them a ride if they are heading in my direction, saving them from their first fleecing on the island.

But I'm getting a little ahead of myself so let me back up a little and fill you in on the 'taxi industry' on Roatan.

A simple statistic will give you some insight into a mostly unnecessary industry. By that, I do not mean that taxis are not a convenience at times. Nevertheless, when I first heard these numbers I did not believe them. Seventy-five percent of the cars on Roatan are taxis. My source of this information was the head administrator of the municipality, so I had to think there was some truth to the statement.

Wow! Seventy-five percent! Friends, that is a very high percentage in any language. It would lead you to believe that the taxis are a very lucrative business, but now that I have been here for a while I think I have a better grasp on the reason.

Driving a taxi is something just about anybody can do, even if they don't know diddle di-do about anything, even how to drive a car. As soon as you experience your first ride you will realize the sad truth. These guys don't know anything about anything, especially driving a car.

Now, for another banger. Most of the vehicles used as taxis here could not ever pass the most liberal safety inspection anywhere in the U.S.A. (Well maybe they could get by in Arkansas.) If all the taxis on the island were brought together and parked in a big field somewhere, the place would more likely resemble the morning after the Saturday night demolition derby, like they have at the local stock car track, in a small town in South Georgia.

"Well, don't these guys have to have a driver's license?", you ask yourself. Certainly they do, but let me outline the requirements for getting one. First, you have to have the equivalent of around twenty bucks. Then you have to get two mug shots, then you go to the police station, you fill out the application and that's all there is to it. It's good for two years. No road test, no eye exam, no nothin'.

If you want to be a taxi driver on Roatan, there are some other very stringent requirements you must fulfill, as a prerequisite. They are not listed in the order of their importance, because all of them are mandatory.

1) You must have an I.Q. not exceeding 40.
2) You must be illiterate, but signing your name or an eckes (x) or using your thumb print, is okay.
3) You must be an ex-Kamikaze pilot and constantly prove how macho you are in all things, especially getting 'there' first, at any cost.
4) You must be able to make your taxi pass a ten foot wide truck, on a twelve foot wide road while combing your mustache and balancing a can of beer between your knees.
5) You must have a degree in taxi electronics. Proof of this credential is demonstrating your ability to toot the horn at least 150 beeps per minute.
6) You must sign a statement that you will never, ever use the turn signals on your taxi even if they work, for any reason whatsoever. This document must be witnessed by at least two veteran taxi drivers. You can however use the emergency flashers to indicate that you are going to turn left, turn right, stop, slow down or just check to see if the flashers are working.
7) You must pretend to know everything about everything, even if you never heard of it, to impress your passengers with this great knowledge.
8) You must recite your expertise about all the best places to stay, or where to eat, and then take your passengers to the places where you make the most commissions.
9) You must not have been in any more than three accidents in the previous month, or run over any livestock or pedestrians during that interval.
10) You must promise before witnesses (two) that you will stop only in the middle of the road to pick up or let off passengers. Never pull over to the side and make sure you count your money at least three times while parked out in the middle of the road. ("Let them wait, can't they see I'm busy?")

There are other minor rules that taxi drivers have to learn as they go along but the foregoing rules are the most crucial and must be committed to memory.

It is interesting to note that the island taxi drivers have a series of hand signals which are very intricate and held close secret by the brotherhood. If you are following close behind a taxi this is what they look like and what they mean. All signals viewed from behind, and only the driver's side counts even if the passenger is attempting some desperate sort of sign language.

1) Arm is held straight out, index finger fully extended for five to six seconds, then hand drops down to a hanging position: Driver is pointing out where he used to live.

2) Arm fully extended, slightly elevated, fist clenched tightly, slight shaking motion for five or six seconds: Taxi driver is telling passenger about some guy making a pass at his girlfriend last night.

3) Arm fully extended, wrist being rapidly and wildly gyrated with index finger fully extended, radical up and down flexing motion for thirty to forty seconds: Taxi driver is trying to snap-off something he just removed from his nose that is stuck to his index finger, and it won't come lose.

4) Arm is dangling downward, swift motions like paddling a canoe: Taxi driver wants you to slow down in case he decides to turn.

5) Arm fully extended, flapping motion at wrist for ten seconds: Taxi is going to turn left.

6) Arm fully extended, flapping motion at wrist for ten seconds: Taxi is going to turn right.

7) Arm fully extended, flapping motion at wrist for ten seconds: Taxi is going to stop.

8) Arm fully extended, flapping motion at wrist for ten seconds: Taxi driver is just airing his hand.

9) Arm hanging down from shoulder, long sweeping motions like rowing a boat for ten to fifteen seconds: Taxi wants you to pass him.

10) Arm hanging down from shoulder, long sweeping motions like rowing a boat for ten to fifteen seconds: Taxi driver is trying to determine if door is properly closed.

11) Arm is fully extended, gyrating wildly from the shoulder, taxi driver is bouncing and twisting, seemingly trying to stand up while driving: The springs under driver's seat have let go and one of them is making contact with a very tender part of his anatomy.

These are a few of the more commonly observed hand signals but as of this writing there are several more under study for future consideration. We anticipate some exciting breakthroughs.

Occasionally the policia decide there are too many taxis and so they have this roadblock and round-up down next to the Texaco (pronounced Tex.-AH`-co). There is an ongoing inspection in progress, the hoods of the taxis are opened, the policia are looking under the fenders, kicking the tires and looking at the wheels.

Many shrill conversations are occurring, along with the required arm waving and taxi type animation, like flexing knees and slapping foreheads, hopping on one foot. Just ordinary expressiveness, to impress the cops as to how sincere and honest they are.

Then the dineros start changing hands, the taxi ranks thin out, the policia seem to evaporate into thin air, and everything is back to normal. The only taxi left has a dead batteria, and since nobody owns jumper cables, the driver is looking for a few strong guys to give him a push start.

The mentality of the taxi drivers is currently under study by a world renown group of anthropologists to determine whether Roatan taxi drivers are a species closely resembling Homo sapiens, or a newly discovered sub-human resemblance.

Word has spread throughout the Caribbean cruise ship industry about this breed and passengers are briefed before coming ashore on Roatan about some of the scams perpetrated on tourists while they enjoy the wonders of this island paradise.

If you happen to be around the public pier when a cruise ship is in port you are likely to hear conversations between tourists and taxi drivers that sound something like this. "Does your taxi have brakes, seat belts and good tires, and how about air conditioning?"

To which the taxi driver replies, "Of course I have brakes senior, why I just had my taxi inspected by the policia last week and everything is perfect. Would I lie to you?"

Soooooo, having been forewarned on shipboard, the tourist displays his good old American negotiating power and for the benefit of his shipmate friends, he strikes a deal to ride in a clean, safe taxi. "Okay, how much for a tour of the island?"

"For you senior, twenty dollars, and I will show you everything. My air condition is out of Freon until the next boat, but I will take you up where the breezes will keep you comfortable. You will love it!" Senior tourista is very pleased with himself. He has made a great deal for himself and two shipmates for a tour of the island in a safe, comfortable taxi.

About two hours later when this same taxi arrives back at the pier, the driver gets out and opens the doors for his passengers, and smiling says, "That will be $60 senior."

The tourista is flabbergasted.

"Why sixty dollars? We made a deal for twenty."

"Of course senior. However, there are three of you. Three times twenty is sixty, no? I made this very clear to you senior. I am sooooo sorry if you misunderstood. I am charging only what we agreed. You owe me sixty dollars." (Beware of any of these guys who know their multiplication tables, dear readers. They are very dangerous, just like the guys who can read. It might be a good idea to ask any taxi driver before you hire him if he knows how to do his multiplication tables).

So what can the poor tourist do? He pays the sixty smackers and chalks up another one for experience. After all, he is in a foreign country and who do you think will win this one if it ever went before a local judge?

These kinds of things even happen to savvy locals sometimes. One day not too long ago, a friend of mine came back on a flight from La Ceiba. He was in a hurry so he went out of the terminal and asked the first taxi driver he saw how much to take him to his boat at Brick Bay, a distance of four miles. The guy quotes fifty Lempiras, which is very expensive for that distance. But my friend was in a hurry so he said, "I think that's a rip-off but I'm in a hurry, so let's go." The entire conversation had been in Spanish so the driver understood everything.

The road into Brick Bay was in it's usual deplorable condition, and the taxi driver complained all the way in, about getting his car all dirty and full of mud and possibly even doing damage to the tires. All of it in Spanish of course.

They stopped at the boat dock and the driver demanded one hundred Lempiras, to which my friend said, plainly, "Why you crook! I agreed to fifty Lemps and even that was far too much money for this short trip."

The taxi driver began to howl like a stuck pig and threatened to call the policia. My friend was taking the bread out of the mouths of his children, the taxi driver cried. The road was in very bad condition, it was hard on the car, and besides he was entitled to one hundred Lemps for such a hazardous trip.

My friend who is a very cool kind of guy reached into the taxi and grabbed the driver by the shirt collar, nearly dragging him out of the window. "Why you slimy little crook. We agreed to fifty Lemps, you dumb bastard, and now you're trying to hustle me for another fifty. I'm going to tell everybody on this island what a chiseler you are. Taxi number 004 is a crook and I'll report you to the municipality and the policia myself! You lousy thief!"

This made the driver howl even louder.

Then still keeping his cool, my friend throws a wadded up hundred Lempira note onto the floor of the back seat, hoping the driver would have a hard time finding it, then he kicks the door and calmly walks away. His final dissertation had been in English so the taxi driver never did find out what my friend actually said, but he high tailed it out of there without even looking for the money. Not very macho, but then who would know except the stupid Gringo.

In case you have never driven along our picturesque highways, I want to describe this delightful experience. There is a feeling of closeness, like you are surrounded by something but you can't put your finger on it. You feel enraptured and somewhat confined but it is not an unpleasant sensation. Then you finally figure it out. It is the tall grass and weeds that grow tight to the pavement. This vegetation grows up six to seven feet high, giving the road a tunnel-like appearance, and making visibility around the curves very difficult. You can never tell what is waiting around the next bend.

This year (being an election year) generated a good deal of activity that rarely ever happens except when politics gets into high gear. A large crew of guys with machetes began chopping the weeds and tall grass along the shoulders of main road. There were many relics being uncovered along the roadway, like olds cars, some wrecked taxis, long forgotten junk trucks, and other historic artifacts.

As the chopping crew worked their way along the highway, they uncovered a strange sight. Nobody ever remembered seeing anything like it before, but there is was. A funny sign that although very rusted distinctly showed a squiggly black line pointing straight up with an arrow at the top. Several taxis stopped to inspect this unusual phenomenon and the consensus was that it was some old Mayan hieroglyph. Nobody had ever seen anything like it.

The policia came along and announced that it was an ancient custom that was called a road sign, to show drivers that the road had many squiggly curves. One taxi driver said, "Why do I need a sign to tell me that the road is crooked? Do they think I'm stupid or something?" They found another one of those silly signs on the other side of the road when they chopped over there too.

A friend of mine suggested to the municipality that they have some road signs made showing little taxis parked in the middle of the road, to warn people of the places they could expect taxis to be stopped. For instance on blind curves, on top of hills and some other unsuspecting places. Maybe it would cut down on the number of accidents involving taxis, she assured them. They could even have one sign showing two taxis blocking the whole road while they were talking about the soccer match they watched on TV last night.

Another form of taxi here is vans. They are 'colectivo' taxis and are very common. They are less costly because they carry several more people. You can also get a better price from the regular taxis if you agree to ride 'colectivo', which means the driver can pick up additional fares along the way.

The taxis at the airports are very high priced. If you have the time to walk out past the tollgates of the parking lots, you can usually pick up a non-airport taxi at a fraction of the price. They also operate 'colectivo', and you can save a good deal of money by this method. In La Ceiba, a five-minute walk out the gate can save you eighty Lempiras on a ride into 'Centro', the center of town. At current exchange rates that is equal to about $5.30, which buys a nice lunch.

I have noticed some of these taxi drivers go into a trance-like stupor whenever I am driving behind them. They are going very slow, and as soon as I decide to pass they wake up and step on the gas. Then, when I give up the idea, they just slow down and go back into their stupor.

I have never been able to figure out what drives these guys into the frenzy to be first. They will risk anything to get there first, like it was a matter of saving a life, but they do it even when they have no passengers. In fact, they are oblivious to their passengers once they have the slightest hint that they may not be first, and they will take the most unrestrained risks to prove they have Machismo. They are out to save the day. For whom, and for what we will never know.

There are some rules of the road you should commit to memory if you decide to do any driving while you visit or when you live here. Just remember that taxis have the rights and all others have to put up with it. That's just the way things are. If two taxis want to stop and talk, it is okay even if they block the whole road. You should wait politely until they have finished their very important discussion.

Do Not Toot. That is not fair! Only taxis can toot. Do not lose your temper when they turn or stop without any indication. Just smile and wave when they pull out in front of you like you were not there. They deserve your respect.

When driving at night do not use your high beam although the taxi coming at you has his high beam on. You should know he is on an important mission and cannot take the time to keep changing the beam from high to low all night. Besides, most taxis do not have two lights when they are on low beam.

I'll never forget the night we were out driving and we actually saw a taxi with two headlights on low beam. I am not making this up. We even took down his number so we could tell everybody about this dedicated, unselfish taxi driver. Taxi number 687 should have the taxi driver of the year award. He would get our votes for sure.

My spouse had an interesting experience not too long ago. She had never used a mini-van to go into town but one morning her car would not start and since I had already gone there was nobody around to give her a jump-start. She walked out to the main road and flagged down the first mini-van that came along. Not knowing what the fare was she obligingly paid fifteen Lempiras that the van driver demanded for the trip into town.

A week later she boarded the same mini-van with the same driver and found that everybody else only paid seven Lemps for the trip for which she was charged fifteen. My spouse said in a rather shrill tone, "Why did you charge me fifteen Lempiras when everybody else only pays seven?" To which the driver replied, "I am sooooo sorry señora. I musta make mistook. Seven Lemps for you señora, okay? I am soooooo sorry."

She didn't get a refund. If that ever happened it would be an even more important event than the taxi with two headlights on low beam, and then we'd have to start handing out awards or somethin'.

Now here are the rules for hiring a taxi anywhere:

Negotiate your total price before you hire the taxi. Be sure the quoted fare includes all the passengers in your group. In other words, how much it will cost for three 'personas' or how ever many are in the group.

Example: How much (quanto?) total for (para) three people (tres personas) to ride… to… (a) Park Centro? "Quanto para tres personas a Parque Centro?" Make sure you are quoted the total. Completo! You will get 'Gringoed' if you do not negotiate before you hire the taxi.

They all believe that Americans have unlimited resources, and you will not notice being fleeced out of a few dollars. Besides, they need the money.

One day I came around a curve and there was a dead horse lying there beside the road with his legs sticking straight up into the air, like a dead cucaracha. There was a van there too, and it was a mess, much worse off in looks than the horse. True, the horse was dead, but he actually looked better off than the van. There were body parts scattered all over the place. Van body parts, not people body parts. All the people were okay, but the van was such a dilapidated mess that hitting the horse caused it to disintegrate.

You will often find animals in the middle of the road when you're driving along without a care in the world. They seem to love to hang out on blind curves. Occasionally you may find yourself driving through a heard of cattle, who are out for a stroll along our scenic byways. Dogs love to sleep in the middle of the road, especially in the shady places where you can't see them. Sometimes little kids are wandering around out there, unattended too. Whew!

Learn to expect the unexpected. Driving here is something like the old amusement park ride, bumper cars, or the 'dodge 'em' ride as we called it. It is frequently like an obstacle course with two or three vehicles randomly stopped in the most unlikely places. You come around a curve, there they are, and there are people standing in the road talking to passengers in the vehicles too.

Here is only the rule of the road on Roatan: 'He who hits pays.' Forget about who has the right of way. That taxi could have been parked in the middle of the road, for no particular reason, but even if he is not supposed to be parked there, if you hit you pay.

The other hazard is Machismo, the dreaded disease of the taxi driver. He will sacrifice anything to prove how macho he is, bar nothing. This brain debilitating illness has infected an entire society, but it is most noticeable in the males and especially the taxi drivers.

I am astounded by the acts of Machismo, pure lunacy, that these people think is mandatory behavior. I find myself just about to cross a one-lane bridge only to be challenged by some idiot on a bicycle trying to play chicken with a big truck. He has to do it, he is driven. So he crosses first, so what? Does he run home to enter it on the big score card? Probably not, he probably can't write. I am convinced that this guy would go skydiving with an umbrella.

What makes a bunch of guys run in front of a heard of crazed bulls every year? Is it a contest to see who can get the biggest goring without dying? Alternatively, is it to be the guy who brags about being trampled by ten Toro's? Is he the real hero? Why not run before a fleet of Mack trucks on the
L. A. Freeway? That would probably sort out the weaklings of the species.

I can understand the guy in the bright colored suit and the funny little hat, strutting around in the bullring. That's a pretty safe bet, when five guys on horses go out and cut the bull's neck muscles so he can barely lift his head in his near death attempts to gore the dude with the tight pants. They leave the knives sticking into the bull's back so every move he makes cuts him more. OLE`!
Great sport.

Okay, you are right. I would not do it on a bet. I have not been raised in a society that constantly insists on Machismo to prove manhood. I did do something pretty daring when I was a kid though. I put a penny on a railroad track. A train came by and when I went to look for my trophy, I didn't find anything. But don't you think that was pretty Macho? I mean for me?

That reminds me to tell you the story about the Mexican who was killed by a weasel. He was walking down the railroad track and a train came along and ran him over. "He did not hear the weasel."

There is more to this Machismo malady. You will find that common courtesy is almost non existent on the highways, and many other places too. Yielding to someone trying to get in or out of a tight parking place or turning around on a narrow road does not even enter the minds of motorists here. The proper conduct for taxis and most other drivers is to zoom around the poor guy with your horn blaring and not give him any leeway or show courtesy by waiting politely while the poor slob gets turned around. Then if anyone should stall while trying any of these maneuvers just lay on the horn and cuss as loud as you can. What nerve for this stupid guy to stall right in front of some taxi who is in a hurry.

The lack of civility spills over into everyday life too. It will become apparent to you because it is such an outstanding deficiency in these uneducated masses. They have never been taught any of the social graces that are so common to us, we hardly even think about them. Simple things like saying "thank you," or "excuse me." They will try to get through a doorway first, rather than holding it open for someone, even their mother.

I'll describe some off road incidents in other issues. I cannot imagine an entire society so completely devoid of manners, but I do not believe anyone hereabouts has ever heard of the
'Golden Rule'. Those who have heard the expression probably think it has something to do with the soccer playoffs.

____________________________________________

Grandma Dorothy Wants to go Home

There is a small island off the extreme eastern end of Roatan named Helene`. And on this pristine, remote paradise there is a settlement, which is peopled by descendants of freed slaves from the Cayman Islands. The spoken language there is English, reggae-English, I call it.

Grandma Dorothy ,Ph.D. Registered Nurse, has been a medical missionary and teacher there for several years, after having served in similar capacities in Korea and Egypt. She is affiliated with the Presbyterian Church of Caramel California. She came in today to tell me the reasons she is leaving; Grandma Dorothy is getting too old and too tired and has third world burnout. She decided to go home to America. She is 73 years old.

I am writing this especially to help this courageous and dedicated lady to make the transition to her retirement in America.
Back to Caramel California, after a lifetime of humanitarian service to humankind.

Now if you have ever dreamed of owning a beautiful property with 150 feet of white sand beach on the Caribbean Sea, read on carefully. In addition to the sea frontage, the entire parcel is 3000 square meters or about ¾ acre. There are two small houses located on the property each independently solar powered with 24 hours per day of electricity.

A large water storage tank provides fresh community well water and there is a rain collection system with a cistern. Included is a small boat dock. It is an easy walk to the reef at low tide, and the best diving in the Bay Islands is only fifty yards offshore.

Out beyond the reef, the water depth is infinite. Bone fishing, lobster, reef crab, game fish, at your fingertips. It would be a great place for a private club, or shared ownership resort, or that quiet, secret place that you have dreamed about for half your lifetime.

I think the price is right. Grandma Dorothy told me she is motivated, willing to put a smashing price on the place in order to go home for the holidays. For a starter she asks $100,000. U.S.
Possibly negotiable if there is a fast get away in it for her. She just can't go no mo' and would like to go home for Christmas.

I will be happy to relay any serious offers. There are no phones out on Helene`. Doctor Dorothy has no cell phone. Contact me at: elouis@globalnet.hn only if you are interested, and truly serious.

The two small houses are studio-like accommodations and each would be adequate for two people. There is plenty of room for expansion. There are no roads to Helene`. The island is only accessible by boat. There are water taxis readily available to bring people to Coxen Hole for shopping, etc.

We have been friends for a long time, and I hate to see her go. I will miss our chats immensely. She has been a good friend and a very interesting source of information.
You will be dealing direct with Grandma Dorothy if you decide to talk. I am only offering information on her behalf.

Many of my readers have asked when my book "How to Avoid the Pitfalls: Building Your Dream Home"
will be in print. I am happy to announce that it will be available in soft cover not later than early 2002. It is a very informative writing and with mortgage interest rates so low, there is bound to be a surge in new home construction well into 2002. Don't go into the home building arena uninformed. This is the book written for people you have heard lament, "I wish I knew about that before I built!"
You will be able to order it by clicking: bkorders@1stbooks.com

Being well informed is to be forearmed. You will be prepared for all the little nasty surprises that befall so many. The book will walk you through the home building process step by step, in easy to understand language, even if you do not know anything about building anything.

That will do it for this month. I am going to take my first vacation in five years beginning in late November. There will be no Roatan Insights in December because I will be traveling. I will have much new and exciting information to share with you in 2002. Best wishes, and a Happy Holiday Season to all. My temporary e-mail address will be: grenaldo@msn.com from Thanksgiving 'til Jan 7,2002.

Several E-books are available on my site: www.roatanet.com/pierre/

As of September 1, 2001 the exchange rate in Roatan banks was:
$1 U.S. = LPS. 15.57

Comments or questions?

Drop me a line:

Pierre

elouis@globalnet.hn

By Pierre Renaldo, Mountain Coastal S.A,. General Contractors, Construction Management and Construction Consultants.