I had the good fortune to spend forty-five days on the island of Utila this year. I came with the intent of earning my divemaster certification and to continue my photographing of the island and its people. My plan was thrown into disarray when I was unable to go diving for my first two weeks because of some dental work. I then turn my attention to photography.

In the previous year among the photographs I took were quite a few portraits. I made 8 x 10 inch prints of them and brought them along. I intended to find the people and give them copies. I did not expect the reactions that people had to being given photographs of themselves. I think it is a sign of the times. We now see many more images everyday on social media. But they are scrolled through at high speed. These are different. One can really see the faces. Large instead of on a backlit three-inch screen. The photographs feel more real. I think they convey more too. When they got them there was smiles, screams, foot stomping, and calling for others to come see.

The process also opened doors to conversations. People would tell me about their lives, history of the island, stories of other people in the pictures, and where to find the people.

You might have a hard time describing the kinds of pictures I take. I am not searching for a particular subject or style. I just let the images flow as my day goes on. Therefore, you will find landscapes, portraits, townscapes, events and some street photography. I have always flowed from one thing to another. I do not have a favorite either. I just let the experience of life come through my camera.

I went to a place called Trade Winds several times. This is where the volcanic rock and coral meet the ocean. The rocks are sharp and jagged. Pumkin Beach is another spot I took landscapes. But then again other sights would come up in my travels. Cows on the side of the road. Palm trees. The harbor.

Much of the work this year involved the people I met. On the island there are the local people and the divers. There are other groups, but my knowledge is not so nuanced. The divers tend to be from all over the world. Not too many Americans. Europe is well represented. I met people from everywhere. The Hondurans were very nice. They work long hard hours. Many have multiple jobs. Most people were quick to help and happy to talk. Language was not always easy. Many on the island spoke English. There are also those who only spoke Spanish. I am not multi-lingual. At the same time, my photography often bridged the gap. Many folks who I could not talk with would still greet me and shake my hand in the street.

I was at Chepes Beach one day. It was a quiet weekday. Only about a dozen people were there. Then tuk tuks, scooters and quads began arriving. A couple of women put on white religious robes. It turned out to be a christening. It was a man with his brother and son being baptized. I photographed the scene. Religion is very prevalent on the island.

Another day at the same spot a television crew came by. They were loud and doing a show on the island. I asked the star of it all if I could photograph her, she said yes. There had been a little girl playing in the water. She was totally unaffected by the commotion. I put both in the frame.

At sunset all along the shore the divers gather on their docks. Some jump in the eighty-degree water.  They talk about the day’s dives, where they came from, what they are doing and enjoy the end of light for the day. The sun goes down early here. Usually around six.

On one of my last days, I finally caught up with the donut man. He used to just walk around the streets, beaches and dive shops with a tray of donuts. Yes, they are good! This year he got a spot to make his goods and sell them. He still sends his workers out to sell on the streets. He always has a smile on. He loves making his donuts. He was unsure of having his picture taken, but when I showed him, he was excited. Maybe for this moment I was to photography what he was to donuts.

I spent some time in the cemetery. It was called “Garden of Memories”.  Tucked away up on a hill and not on a well-traveled road. The photograph I took of the sign reminded me of a Monet painting. The peeling paint on the wall gave impressions of flowers. The flowers in the cemetery were almost all plastic. I can’t imagine real flowers lasting very long in the heat. I thought about the memories that are found there.

The yellow bridge is a stopping point for most. On one side is the harbor. There is a great view of the sunset from this spot. On the other side of the bridge is the lagoon. Many of the dive boats park there at night. This year my apartment was next to the bridge. All day and night people would drive up and park on the bridge. They would look out to the ocean. Sometimes just look at their phones. Tuk tuks were often there. There were three boys that came down late in the afternoons to fish. They were always very excited.

There are many places on Utila to find good food. The Pink Flamingo is a great breakfast spot, though not the only one. They always greet the customers with a smile and call you “Love”. It is sweet.

There are dive classes up and down the harbor. My spot was the Utila Dive Center. They are noted for their professional approach to teaching. I will say that I was well taught and as a former high school principal I will say that their instructors were all well trained.  I took some pictures of the classes from the Rio Coco Café next door. It is my understanding that it is here where you get the best coffee in the world. I cannot vouch for this as I never drink coffee.

One day the former mayor of Utila approached me. We had met him a couple of days before. He said there were some people he wanted me to photograph. So, we arranged to meet up with him. He wanted me to photograph the fishermen on the Cays. These are small islands near Utila. There are a few hundred people who live on these two islands which are connected by a small bridge. There were a few scenes that were incredible. It was late afternoon. The men were gathered in a small courtyard. Some were playing cards. Others just sat and talked along a wall. Kids were playing soccer. I took pictures. The kids got a kick out of being photographed. Then we walked through the islands on the sidewalk that cut down the middle. I saw a school for teenage boys in session. I asked if I could come in and photograph them. The teacher said yes. The whole trip there was fascinating.

There are many murals throughout the island. I photographed some because they add so much to the flavor of the island. One of my favorites was on the side of the bank building. I took a couple of photos of it last year. I was very disappointed when I returned to see it vandalized. On my last day the artist was painting a new mural over the old one. I got to photograph her and the new mural. We had an interesting conversation. I love her work. She has done a few others around the island.

The red wall is an interesting place. People sit on the red wall which is located at the center of town. Usually, it is just men. It met some interesting people on the wall. Larission is a 72 year old carpenter. He built a five-story building back in the eighties. He told us how it withstood earthquakes and hurricanes. A couple of people told me that he was the best carpenter anywhere. I ran into him quite a bit. He was always a gentleman and always came over to shake my hand.

It was funny on my last day; I was going by the wall on my scooter. There were about ten guys there. I had photographed about half of them. I said goodbye to them. They told me to stay. They laughed when I told them that I had other lives to lead, but I will return.