Seeking Robinson Crusoe

Local legend, as well as an enterprising entrepreneur or two, says that the island of Utila is the place of the fabled Robinson Crusoe, who shipwrecked on a tripical island, met a man he called Friday, and lived for 24 years marooned and seeking rescue. There is even a billboard or two offering Robinson Crusoe "tours" of the island, showing where he supposedly stayed, etc. based on the descriptions in Daniel Defoe's book. For those of us familiar with the literature, it's a key clue to the nature of the people on this island and their willingness to lie, smile, and take your money (or any loose valuables you may have left locked in your room). Of course, Robinson Crusoe is a fictional tale about a fictional character, based in part on the real-life tales of several different shipwreck survivors including Alexander Selkirk who was on an island off the coast of Chile (different ocean altogether), and Henry Pitman, a surgeon who escaped from a Carribean penal colony and survived for a short time on an unknown island. That story may be the basis for the local claim, but they haven't really changed the names for the sake of the overly educated types like me.

The reality, of course, is that the locals of Utila are an odd, mostly hardworking, but also impoverished lot. The men who work here make about the equivalent of $10 a day and are regularly up before dawn to work on the fishing boats or in construction around the island. The local restaurants are staffed and run by the local women and girls (or by rich expats who own the bars). Many of the young men either make money working on the boats or sell drugs to the tourists. Quite a few of them spend the day sitting around doing nothing. There is work on the island, and local bar and restaurant owners often resort to hiring travelling students for short stints while on the island to help subsidize the cost of their diving instruction, mostly because they will actually show up for work on a regular basis. There is also a small, loosely organized crime group on the island who import marijuana and cocaine and sell it to the locals and tourists. A number of the local men have become addicted to the local "crack" trade and will gladly climb in your bathroom window while you're off eating and look for electronics, cash, cigarettes, etc. they can trade to the dealers for more drugs. The dealers sell the good on the mainland to buy more drugs with, and the great cycle of crime continues.

This is not to say the island is unsafe. On the contrary, normal considerations that any traveller knows to take are fine. Hide your money, electronics and passports (or lock them in the hotel safe), and don't leave anything in the room you can't live without. There is no violence on the island to speak of, other than occassional fistfights among the local boys. The police are here on the pretense of looking for drugs, but they generally stand around on the incoming pier and check people's passports. A report of a theft to them is almost always met with a blank stare and shrug that says "and what do you want me to do about it?" The vast majority of the locals are beautiful people, friendly, hard working, and grateful for you patronage. I can honestly say we've made some great new friends among them, but we still lock our doors and hide our valuables.

"Robinson Crusoe" found a paradise of clean beaches and beautiful waters, and even secured a local servant to ensure his 17th Century British standard of living. Those of us willing castaways today will definitely find lots of beautiful beaches and clear waters, but also biting sand flies, oppressive humidity, thieves, and liars. Paradise is close... but not perfect.

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Part of trip: Honduras 2009

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