I just returned after a week-long stay at the Inn of Last Resort with 20 other members of a New York City-based dive club. While I've often used TripAdvisor to seek out information about travel, I've never been sufficiently motivated to write my own review -- until now. After experiencing the ILR's dive operation for the past week, I felt the need to share my impressions, and recommend that other divers stay away (unless it truly is their "last resort").

Let me preface my comments by saying that the accommodations and food were more than adequate. I'm an adventurous traveler, perfectly content with rustic, bare-bones establishments. Not that I would call the ILR bare-bones: it was quite a beautiful compound, nestled in a lush jungle environment, and the upkeep of the buildings and grounds seemed to be quite good. The resort's lagoon area was beautiful (though lacking the advertised hammocks, to our disappointment), and had some amazing snorkeling (we spotted a large eagle ray and multiple octopuses within the shallow lagoon itself). Also, the food was plentiful and varied -- in particular, the fresh soups, served with each dinner, were nearly all excellent. And I want to give a special shout-out to bartender Ziggy, who was always eager to please and made some excellent, creative cocktails.

However, for a place that markets itself primarily as a dive resort, the dive operation was substandard, unprofessional, and in a few respects, downright unsafe. I have a hard time understanding the good reviews I've read about this operation. Following is a detailed recap of the chronic problems we experienced during our week.

Our large group started our first day of diving split between the resort's two active boats, Special Lady and Captain Ariel. The Special Lady pushed off first, but it immediately became apparent that the rudder had become reversed during a recent engine overhaul (turn the wheel left, the boat went right, and vice versa). After half an hour of impromptu repairs, that issue was solved, and we got underway. However, the delay cost the people on Special Lady our second dive of the morning. If the boat had been taken out for a test run after the overhaul, a problem so obvious would have been noticed, so clearly the boat didn't get a test run after the engine work, which defies belief. Anyway, the resort's manager, "Captain Ed," assured us that the boat would work fine from now on.

During our afternoon dive, the Special Lady's engine died multiple times, and the skipper had to "hotwire" it at sea to start it. This involved removing the large and heavy cover (approx. 5' x 8') off the engine compartment and using a wire to get a spark off the battery. Eventually, the skipper just left the cover off, to save the effort of removing it each time, which created the dangerous situation of having a 5' x 8' open hole in the deck into which an inattentive person could easily fall or step into (despite this, neither the captain nor divemaster ever cautioned anyone about it). When we finally made it back into protected Gibson Bight, the engine died for good before we made it back to the dock. We sat there adrift for half an hour before we could finally be towed to the dock. During that half hour, no one ever informed us what was going on, what steps were being taken, etc. We had to just watch and try to overhear what was happening. Finally back on the dock, we were informed by Captain Ed (again) that the boat would be working fine tomorrow.

Our second diving day dawned to less than ideal weather conditions. Small waves were breaking on the barrier reef, and it was a bumpy ride out to the dive site. Nevertheless, the boat seemed to be working okay (though the engine had been running all morning, which made me suspect they'd had to hotwire it again, and were afraid to shut it off -- which turned out to be true). We had a great dive, only to discover on ascent that the boat had ripped off the mooring line in the rough seas, and then by sheer bad luck had fouled the prop in another mooring line (effectively mooring it, but also rendering it unable to escape the mooring). By sheer good luck, our other boat (Captain Ariel) was only a short distance away, so she tied up to us, and our divemaster cut the mooring line. We were still disabled by the fouled prop, however, so we had to be towed. This was dicey in the rough seas, but we were near West Bay Beach, so they towed us to the nearest dock there.

As we were being towed, swells kept sweeping large quantities of seawater into the boat through the open stern, which kept dumping right into the engine compartment (again, the cover was off). There was so much water in the bilge by this time that we joked that our next dive would be in the bilge. And again, there was no communication from the crew as to what was going on, what they were doing, or where we were going. The crew themselves seemed unsure of what to do, and seemed at first like they wanted to tow us all the way back to the resort (which would have been exceedingly dangerous). We finally made it through the barrier reef at West Bay and to the dock, but not before the tow line snapped, hitting one of our club members in the thigh (leaving a painful, grapefruit-sized welt that kept him limping all week -- see photo). We sat on the dock for an hour (again, with zero communication from the crew), during which time some of the staff arrived by land with a pump for the bilges (see photo). We later learned that 3 of 4 bilge pumps on BOTH boats had failed; you could see Captain Ariel visibly listing to port and riding low in the water. At first, they suggested we get back on the boats to go back to the resort, but our entire group agreed that it wasn't safe and insisted on being driven back.

Once we all returned to the resort at lunchtime, ILR owners Andy and Donna had a mutiny on their hands. Up to this point, most of us divers had remained patient through the numerous mechanical problems. But now, nearly all of us freely vented our frustration. To their credit, Andy and Donna offered (and followed through) to take us on a jungle canopy tour that afternoon for free, and even offered refunds if anyone were to demand one. However, despite these offers, they repeatedly made excuses about all the problems (e.g., "there are always bugs to be worked out after an engine is overhauled"), rather than admitting any fault. In other words, their offers of freebies rang hollow, seeming like they just wanted to placate us instead of being truly remorseful.

They then promised that they'd take us out for extra dives the rest of the week to make up for our lost dives, saying that the seas were too rough to go back out that afternoon. I found that interesting, because the conditions were unchanged, just as bad as they were in the morning -- so to me, that demonstrated a lack of judgment in taking us out into the rough seas in the first place that morning. In any case, their promise to take us on extra dives was never honored (they stuck to the normal number of scheduled dives for the rest of the week).

Captain Ed then gave us the same old tired line that they were going to work on the boats the rest of the day, and they'd work fine tomorrow. But this time we weren't buying it, and we basically said we weren't going back out on those boats. So the next morning, they had hired a boat from Anthony's Key that half our group used for the rest of the week (which worked great), and the other half (including myself) used the Captain Ariel. That boat had fewer mechanical problems than the Special Lady, and at that point we just wanted to go DIVING, so we didn't put up much of an objection. And it ran fine the rest of the week -- however, it leaked copious amounts of oil into the water at all times, so when the boat was moored in the marine park, we would always come up at the end of the dive to a large oil slick surrounding the boat (see photos). This continued the rest of the week, despite us reporting the problem to Captain Ed, which shows a callous disrespect for the marine environment (which is the raison d'etre for a dive operation; go figure).

Other than the oil slicks, and the failure to "make up" our lost dives, the rest of the week went relatively smoothly -- till we checked out on our last day. Our trip leader had collected tips for the divemasters from everyone in our group, as he does on all our club's trips. What we didn't know at the time, ILR has a "tip share" system, and all tips go to management to be doled out according to some arcane percentage basis to the entire resort staff. I think it's great that they make sure tips get shared with kitchen & wait staff, cleaning staff, etc. However, if I as a customer want to give a tip to someone directly -- particularly a key staffer who goes above and beyond, like a divemaster on a dive trip -- then that should be between me and the person I'm tipping. In any case, Andy got wind of us tipping the DMs separately, and told our trip leader that he was going to fire the DMs straightaway for not reporting the tips. Granted, if that's how they do things at that resort, and the DMs signed on with that understanding, then I guess Andy may be justified in firing them if they don't obey. But it doesn't seem fair to me, and it makes it easy to understand why they have a high turnover rate with their DM staff.

Some people may be tempted to dismiss the foregoing as the rants of a disgruntled TripAdvisor complainer (there are plenty of those on this site, that's true). But that's not the case here. We were all thrilled to have escaped the Northeast winter and be in the Caribbean, so we were very tolerant and patient, until it became painfully apparent that the dive operation was horridly unprofessional, that the vessels were barely seaworthy, and that the attitude seemed to be one of simply trying to do the minimum necessary to keep things going. I've done a lot of traveling and a lot of diving, and this was hands-down the most poorly run operation I've experienced. I think most divers would agree that the most important thing to diving is safety. Based on that, this place would be shut down if it were in the U.S.

Diver, beware: this "Last Resort" might be your LAST resort.