I'm currently sitting on the open topped, blue wooden balcony of the dive school looking out at the rickety wooden pier next door where lots of excited looking divers have just returned on their boat. Eleanor is swinging in a hammock next to me and the sea is a turqoise blue. Today, it is nearly completely still. There are certainly worse places to be stuck due to ash clouds over the UK.

When we first decided to come here, we did our usual research and concluded that Honduras is a country not particularly known for its safety. The FCO websites clearly states:

'The main types of incident for which British nationals required consular assistance in Honduras in 2009 were: victims of crime, mostly from armed robbery or pickpocketing; hospitalisations; death and replacing lost or stolen passports'

Hmmm....(their poor grammar aside) we discovered these facts having already decided to go. Just before we got on our plane to San Pedro Sula to be exact. At that point we discovered that this lovely city was one of the murder capitals of the world...so...I get off the plane in San Pedro wearing my pointy cowboy boots that definitely don't blend in the way they did in the States. We immediately change into the worst clothes we own before going downstairs in the small airport to see if we can avoid leaving the airport. Thankfully, we have 10 mins to spare before a little 12 seater propeller plane leaves for Utila -a small island in the Bay island group. Previously a British colony the Bay islands still speak mainly English, a spattering of Spanish and of course thick Creole that everytime I attempt to copy sounds like a very bad Jamaican impression.

The plane takes off at a small angle to the wind and we rise up over thick green forest that stays with us for the full 45 minutes to La Cieba where we land. Here we wait for our next plane that turns out to be even smaller with 6 people crammed. The lone pilot hangs his arm out of the window as if it were a car as he takes off, one handed, in the jerky little plane which gets tossed around in the wind. In no time we're over deep blue water and 15 minutes later we make a tentative landing on the hard baked mud strip that appears to be Utila airport. Once here, we jump in a mini bus driven by a friendly local guy called Hank who drives us into the main area of the island - east harbour.

Utila immediately feels right to us, after weeks of visiting places that are a long way from home but feel so developed, European and ultimately sensible the thick humidity, lush green trees, sounds of insects accompanied by our tiny little wooden bedroom complete with noisy, old fan make us feel that we're back on an adventure again.

After some more exploring, Utila turns out to be more developed than we had expected - up until a year or so ago there were only sand roads and no petrol powered vehicles, similar to a lovely place we once visited in Belize. However, development has caught up and there are now two thin, cement roads that have quads, motorbikes and golf buggies flying up and down them, just missing the pedestrians who share their narrow highway.

There are also dive shops everywhere, at least 12, but the island still retains a local feel. You can still eat local food in little wooden shacks along the road. What kind of food? Balleadas - Flour tortillas with refried beans, cheese, sour cream and lettuce or comidas tipico for breakfast and lunch which will usually be rice/tortillas, beans, a piece of meat, some cheese, some plantain. In the evening it's bbq fish and meat all the way with fries, coleslaw and, yep, rice and beans.

We spent a few days diving at one dive school before deciding to visit a smaller cay (pronounced 'key' and meaning island) called Jewel Cay to spend a few nights. It's tiny with a little alley about 2 metres accross being the 'High street'. The land itself has disappeared under a higgledy pigledy development of wooden houses, jetties and huts which build out from the land on little wooden stilts into the water at least doubling the liveable size of the island. Despite the tiny size there is a school and the islanders are so friendly. They all say hi to you as you walk past (there's never more than 10 or so tourists here) and you can walk its full length in less than 15 minutes. Off all the jetties, the crystal clear water lets you see plenty of fish floating meters below living their quiet lives, hoping to see nothing big and toothy.

Not much to report on Jewel Cay, other than being a very nice place to relax and spend some time, but we did end up going for a day on another little cay called Water Cay. This is your sterotypical Robinsoe Crusoe type island. Small, white sanded with palm trees. Here, the local boat captain from our dive school had been cooking a huge metal pot of Bando over a smouldering fire he'd set hours before. Bando is a fish stew of Baracuda (a 1.5m long monster he had caught off the jetty at Jewel Cay), potato, bread fruit (like potato but lighter), plantain, cabbage, carrots, onion and coconut milk. The stew is made without the fish first and left to cook before the fish is added in slices. The result - a great tasting caribbean broth that went brilliantly with the rum and beers also supplied from a little cooler.

Now, it's time for us to go home. We left Jewel Cay for a night in Utila before flying out the next day...and that is where the story should end.

But it doesn't.

Of course, you all know of the volcanic eruption in Iceland...which has stopped all flights in UK airspace. That means we can't get home, further, as we were travelling on standby flights the airline has no duty to get us home which means that we are bottom of the list until they have their backlog cleared. That's going to take weeks so we'll have to fly to Peru and get our original flight home...a long way round.

But, hey, I'm writing this up on my laptop looking at a great view. When this is done I'll grab a mask and go looking for the seahorses that allegedly hang around on the legs of the pier. On top of all of this, being stuck here has also resulted with the fulfilment of an ambition - two days ago we were on the dive boat between dives when a big pod of rough-toothed dolphins started playing alsongside the boat. Our captain slowed down and we scrabbled to pick up our masks and fins. Me and Eleanor slipped off the back of the quiet boat and I took a big breath before sinking under the water. As I did, a dolphin appeared from the deep blue ahead of me, shooting through the water and swimming right past me. Then a line of three or four more, two or three of them with calves swimming right alongside. Still on one breath I stared in amazement and swam around under the water, a drowning sloth in comparison, as one of the dolphins broke off from the pod and swam towards me before deciding that I was no where near interesting enough, flicking his tail and disappearing again. The whole time, the water was alive with crackles and fizzes as the dolphins navigated and chatted to one another. The sound remained audible long after they were out of our view.

Wow.

We got back on the boat amazed, we'd never been in the water with wild dolphins despite having seen them from boats plenty of times. They had looked awesome, powerful and fast. No more than 5 mins later, the captain shouted for us to get low on the back of the boat again...he'd seen a tuna boil ahead....

A tuna boil is where a huge school of tuna attack a ball of smaller fish (called a bait ball) near the surface of the water. The feeding is so frenzied the water for anything up to 50m across looks as if it is boiling hard. The interesting thing is that the tuna are feeding on the small fish, the small fish are feeding on the plankton and in these waters, in this month, there is something altogether more exciting feeding on the plankton too...

whale sharks.

These are the world's biggest fish, a shark but of whale like proportions - up to 12 metres long. They're black with vivid white spots and huge mouths that gape open to allow gallons of plankton rich water to rush in. On pushing the water back out inbuilt filter like teeth trap the good stuff in their mouths. We knew it was the right season but no-one here had seen one since December. We'd lost hope.

We get to the boil and see the tuna flipping and leaping out of the splashing water - our boat captain screams at us - 'Get in', 'Get in NOW'...

We slip (as quietly as possible) into the water and look into the deep, vivid blue all around. Nothing but the occasional tuna darting by. I look to the boat, the captain points to my left and says 'SWIM'. I put my face down and do just that. Then I stop dead.

Ahead of me is a tilted, giant, black body with white spots. Head to the surface and massive tail down low. As I watch it sinks its head down and then swims right at me with its huge mouth gaping wide as it continues feeding. I'm aware I'm not allowed to get in its way so I swim to the left until I'm alongside and then just stare as it slowly swims by, its tail sweeping slowly through the water. I follow for a while and then watch as it disappears into the deep blue, tail visible last then disappearing suddenly as if by magic.

I come up speechless. Me and Eleanor look at one another amazed. Did that really happen? We get back on the boat and really can't be bothered with the second dive anymore - what's the point, it'll pale in comparison...but it turns out to be a great and I see a massive barracuda hunting fish around a small wreck.

So, while many people don't like you very much, thanks volcano. Without you we wouldn't have had that day, we'd have been on a plane back home. I know you're not too happy at the moment but just calm down - we're really looking forward to Africa in a few weeks time and don't want to miss it.

Best Wishes,

Jonathan and Eleanor

PS: Since writing this we've been out on the boat again and seen two more whale sharks, the first floated through the water as a 3 metre long silky shark swam underneath it, circling in its hunting pattern and, frankly, scaring the hell out of me. That was another great day but now, it's really time for us to leave.