The Hidden Cost of ‘Easy Investment’: How Camp Bay’s Reef Is Being Buried Under Illegal Development

For years, people have said that investing in Roatan is “easy.” Buy land, build fast, sell for double. That message has been pushed especially hard by developers who aren’t from here—people who see the island as a profit machine, not a home. Camp Bay is the latest and most alarming example of what happens when that mindset goes unchecked.

Photos of the current state of Camp Bay's reef after the runoff, taken by Caroline Power.

One of the main players is Scott Miller, an investor from the United States who has bought multiple properties on the east end of Roatan, on the municipality of Santos Guardiola. His company, Roatan Caribbean Living, has been aggressively promoting a series of projects in Camp Bay. According to him—and to the people he hires—developing land here is as simple as getting an operations permit from the municipality and starting construction immediately.

But the law doesn’t work that way. And for good reason.

Photos of the development in Camp Bay taken by Javier Tejada.

In Honduras, large-scale developments legally require an environmental study and a license from SERNA, the Secretary of Natural Resources and Environment. Depending on the size, intensity, and ecological risk of a project, SERNA assigns one of three levels of environmental permits. A development of the scale seen in Camp Bay requires a full environmental impact study and formal approval before any land can be cleared. In many cases, a second permit from ICF, the Institute of Forest Conservation, is also required, especially when native vegetation, mangroves, or hillside forests are involved.

These steps take time and money—Lawson Rock in Sandy Bay, for example, waited two years for its license. But that project respected the law, adapted to the terrain, and built with environmental safeguards in place. That’s the way responsible development is done.

Camp Bay is the opposite. Scott Miller won't wait that long. Developers like him resort to instead tell the municipality they are only subdividing eight lots—a small number that qualifies for a basic municipal permit. But in reality, those “eight lots” often turn into fifty or more. The strategy is to build first, profit first, and deal with consequences later. Once the damage is done, they simply pay municipal fines and continue advertising the land.

The reef, however, cannot be fined back to life. When it dies, the loss lasts for decades.

And the sales tactics behind these projects are bold. One of Miller’s developers, Zach Collins, openly posts memes encouraging people to buy “raw land” in Roatan and flip it for “100% plus returns” in a year, framing the island as a cheap, easy investment playground. The tone borders on mocking the environmental concerns raised by residents and conservation groups. To islanders, conservationists, and local property owners, there’s nothing humorous about the destruction happening in Camp Bay.

To push the marketing even further, the company brought in an American realtor, Emmy nominee, and HGTV host, Miranda D. Tate, to promote the lots. She has already started promoting these lots on her Instagram stories and the island on her social media feed. Her participation is being used as a badge of credibility to draw U.S. buyers who may not know the construction is illegal. The urgency to sell quickly says a lot about the developers’ priorities.

Warnings from the local community, activists, and environmental groups intensified as soon as large areas of hillside began to disappear. SERNA received formal complaints, and the very next day conducted an inspection of the site. Vice Minister Jorge Salaverri confirmed to ARC+ that the findings were serious enough that the case has already been remitted to the Attorney General’s office, which is requiring the company for two separate cases of illegal development. This is not the first project where the developers bypassed environmental requirements.

At this point, Scott Miller cannot claim ignorance. He knows the legal process, understands the environmental risk, and has chosen to ignore both. His response? Silence. He has chosen instead to block anyone that doesn't agree with him, including ARC+.

The consequences speak for themselves. When hillsides are cut illegally and left exposed, the first rainfall turns loose soil into thick, heavy runoff. In Camp Bay, the mud traveled downhill in a direct path to the sea. Aerial images show a brown plume spreading across the shoreline, flowing straight into previously clear waters. Underwater photos reveal the result: a layer of sediment blanketing the coral reef.

Photos of the runoff caused in Camp Bay taken by Javier Tejada.

This kind of sedimentation is catastrophic. Runoff suffocates coral by blocking sunlight, clogging its structure, and cutting off oxygen. Once smothered, coral begins to die within days. Recovery takes years—often more than a decade—and only if conditions stabilize. In many cases, the damage is permanent.

The reef in Camp Bay sustained direct, visible harm. Entire sections are now dead and dying. This affects not only marine life, but the local fishing community, tourism, coastal protection, and the overall health of the island’s ecosystem.

Development itself isn’t the enemy. When done within the legal framework, it creates jobs, supports families, and strengthens the economy. But unregulated development—unchecked, unlicensed, and driven purely by fast profits—does the opposite. It strips the natural environment, harms communities, and leaves long-term damage long after the developers have sold their lots and moved on.

The people who stay behind are the ones who pay the price.

A special thank you to Javier Tejada and Caroline Power whom shared the very important shots used for the content of this article and the online campaign against this disaster in Santos Guardiola.