The best of my four trips. Perfect weather, and a night diving bonanza.
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It was a long dry spell. Last June, I spent a week on Bonaire with my family and a pair of unwanted accessories, crutches. A hip injury kept me from fully enjoying the total diving freedom that Bonaire promises, but soon after returning home I booked a December trip to Grand Turk, where I was looking forward to a week of pain-free diving. An illness forced me to cancel those plans, and for a while I thought my diving might be over, but I got better, and as soon as I did I booked a February trip back to Bonaire, and this time I intended to make up for lost bottom time. By the time the trip finally arrived, I was healthy, and after an 8 month surface interval I was so, so ready to get back to my favorite pastime.
Flamingo Tongue snail
This was my fourth trip to the island, and since I was traveling solo I decided to return to the Divi Flamingo resort for it’s value, location, and easy shore entry. I couldn’t get a reasonable connection directly to Bonaire with my AA frequent miles, so I decided to go to Bonaire via Curacao, which looked good on paper but ended up being a rather large pain in the butt. The AA flight to and from Curacao is at a much more reasonable hour than the brutal early AM and late PM Bonaire connection, allowing a full day of diving the day before with a comfortable time-to-fly interval, and the $75 round-trip connecting fare to Bonaire is extremely reasonable. There were two competing airlines that fly this route, Dutch Caribbean and Bonaire Express. I chose DC because the connection time was better, and the baggage allowance was much more generous, and when you are traveling with full scuba, a pony tank, and UW camera equipment, that baggage weight adds up quickly.
A few days before my trip, DC canceled my flight (very suspiciously, I might add) and rescheduled me on their first and last flights of the day. My superb connection turned into a potential 10 hour layover in Curacao, at the same time ruining my last day of diving. Thankfully, when I was shopping for this connection I had left my reservation with Bonaire Excel intact (they don’t require ANY deposit for reservation), and I just reconfirmed that reservation and told DC they could go fly a kite. In hindsight, I’m not really sure they could.
Once that little hurdle was cleared, the travel all went unusually well. No problems with security, all the connections went smoothly, and Bonaire Excel didn’t even mention the fact that I was some 50 pounds over their luggage weight limit, which saved me enough money for a special meal on Bonaire.
My flight put me on the island at 3:00, so I planned to hit the ground running and try to check in, unpack, and get a dive in before dark. In order to make that happen, I had phoned in advance to be sure I could get my pony tank filled, and to arrange an expedited orientation (required of all new divers on Bonaire) to be sure I would be able to make the morning boat dives. I was told no problem on either the tank or the orientation, but I was in for a few unpleasant surprises before I could finally get wet.
The small Bonaire Excel turboprop touched down, and I exited the plane to the warm, humid tropical air and the15-20 knot breeze that is usual to the windward side of the island. As they began unloading the cargo, I spotted my red duffel and breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that even if I had no cloths for the week I would have my dive gear. This may be the first time I have gone to Bonaire and gotten all my luggage the first day. The ground crew unfolded a wheelchair for one of the passengers, which was promptly caught by the breeze and began a 200 yard hilarious chase across the tarmac, at one point going under the wing of another parked aircraft and almost hitting the landing gear.
I cleared customs, and grabbed a taxi for a short ride to the Divi, and filled out the paperwork while the clerk argued with the taxi driver about the voucher. As followed the bellman to my room, I looked over my shoulder to see the driver waving unpaid vouchers in the clerks face and demanding cash. I didn’t see the ending, but my money was on the driver.
Settling into the ocean front room at the Divi was a pleasure. Of the three resorts I have visited on Bonaire, the Divi is my favorite for divers, and not a bad choice if there are non-divers along. The Divi is, I think, the perfect size for a dive resort, not too big, not too small, just right. The entire resort rests on a narrow strip of coastal real estate, with a boat dock on each end of the shoreline. On the south side are on and off water resort rooms and a pool, in the middle is the are the two waterfront restaurants, the “beach”, the office, and a small casino, and on the south are the off-water timeshare apartment units and another pool. The south dock was only used for loading tanks on boats and mooring, and the north dock includes the “dive shack” for gear storage, full and empty tank storage for shore dives, rinse tanks, and a fresh water shower. At the beach end of the dock is a full service dive shop.
My ocean front room was just perfect for me. Clean, comfortable, relatively roomy, and quiet. The vaulted ceilings in the upstairs units give a very spacious feeling, and the view is to die for. Sitting on your private balcony, you are almost looking straight down on the gentle surf washing over the ironshore, and in a perfect position for viewing the reliably spectacular Caribbean sunsets. Cable TV, a very efficient and quiet AC unit, plenty of hot water, a phone, and a room safe add to the comfort level. My only small quibble is that there are too few AC outlets for a photographer, and there was no auxiliary inputs on the television for viewing photos and video. Small potatoes, though. I love it there.
View from my room
Many have asked about the beach at the divi. Here it is, with the adjoining jetty that serves as additional sunning and relaxing space. Small, but far better than nothing.
I downed a couple glasses of the fine tasting and safe Bonaire tap water to rehydrate a little from the travel, threw my gear in my mesh bag, and set off for the dive shop. It was now about 4:30, plenty of time to get my Pony tank filled and get in a dive before supper. I thought. I walked into the dive shop and was greeted by one of the managers, who upon looking at my pony tank informed me that it was due a visual inspection and couldn’t be filled until I got one. For some reason, maybe it was the long day, I slipped into “ugly American” mode and replied “you’ve got to be kidding me”. It was the wrong thing to say to this particular chap. He slowed way down and made it perfectly clear that he was not, in fact, kidding. I then received a nice lecture on tank safety and procedure. OK, I said, inspect the thing and let’s move on. He then informed me that this shop did not do VIP’s. OK, where can I get it done? Well, it turns out that on an island where the entire economy revolves around diving, where there is a dive shop behind every bush, there is one place and ONE PLACE ONLY that does VIP’s and hydros. And, they are closed in 10 minutes. I’m now thinking how big a mistake it was to get huffy with this guy, and even though my BS meter is in the red I realize I better make nice or it’s going to be a long week.
So he calls the shop and finds that they are absolutely booked until tomorrow afternoon, and there is absolutely no other way to get a VIP. I started thinking “this is like being in McDonalds and being told they are fresh out of hamburgers”. Further questioning doesn’t help, waving a little cash doesn’t help, so I resigned myself to diving a while without my faithful yellow buddy. I’ve gotten kind of attached to the little fellow over the years, but what are you gonna do? Answer: go diving. In fact, that answer works for all sorts of questions.
So, back to the room to grab my camera, and then back to the dock to gear up for a shore dive. As always, for the first dive of the trip I geared up slowly and deliberately, checking all the equipment and being certain I didn’t make any dumb mistakes. Without the pony tank, I was going to be more solo than usual. Everything checked out, so I sat on the bench and slipped into my BC, buckled up, put in the weight pockets, secured the octo, tested the auto inflator, and finally, turned on my dive computer-which promptly turned itself right back off. I tried it again, this time looking closely, and was able to see the blinking battery indicator before it flickered off again. Unbelievable. These batteries had only 17 dives on them, but I guess 8 months lying about did them in. Crap.
I could dive tables (remember those things?), but, alas, no depth gauge without my computer. So, I slipped back out of my gear, put the tank back in the rack, and headed to the front desk with the faint hope that I could locate a couple of weirdo batteries on an island that only had one tank inspection station. Fat chance. The desk clerk was very helpful, and even though it was after hours I dialed around and found one store clerk that assured me he could get the batteries-in two weeks. OK, now I was getting frustrated, and even more determined. I went back to my room and thought a few minutes, and had an idea: I removed the batteries and rubbed them between my fingers for about a minute each. I replaced them, and sure enough the old Resource fired right up! After 10 minutes it was still going strong, so I grabbed my dive lights and headed back to the dock for another try.
By now it was well past dusk, so this was going to be a night dive. Well, that’s cool because I have been dying to try my new aiming/focusing light on my housed Oly 5050. This sleek little gizmo attaches to the diffusion panel on the housing, and holds a small LED light. I ordered it a week before I left, and it arrived the day after I left. Which, you may have figured out, was a little too late. I already had the light itself, so the day before I left I went to the hardware store and bought some small copper battery clips and a piece of copper wire, and soldered together a shop class version of my missing holder. Other than having to be mounted under the camera rather than above, it worked great.
Why an aiming light? I realized during my last trip that I simply didn’t have enough arms to take underwater nighttime photographs. My right hand holds the camera, my left hand holds the dive light. Already, my daytime trick of steadying myself for macro shots by placing the index finger of my left hand on a rock or some dead coral was out the window. Also, forget about making adjustments to the camera which require both hands, as many of them on the c5050 do, without stowing the dive light somewhere. Finally, when using your primary dive light as a focusing light, it’s brightness both frightens most subjects and creates a hot spot in the photograph. So, in addition to the aiming light I bought a Princton Tec Matrix head worn light for my primary, and clipped off my 4 C cell UK as a back-up. Left hand is now free for steadying, pushing buttons, and occasional scratching, and the aiming light on the camera is the perfect color and intensity to spot and focus without disturbing the subjects too much. I’m ready, Freddy.
So, down the slippery steps and into the warm, clear water. Before I got even 20 feet across the shallow sandy flats toward the reef, I noticed a fragile tube anemone waving in the surge, and tried out the new light system. It worked great! The aiming light was perfect for the job, and I got a few good shots right away. As I worked my way toward the drop-off, I noticed a hermit crab extended from his shell on top of a large rock, and settled into the sand for a few more shots. Afterward, I slipped down the reef and just as I was getting settled into this wonderful first dive, my aiming light flickered and died. Bollocks! I shook it a couple times, and screwed the lens on a bit tighter (which was the on-off switch on this light), and strangely, the LED came back on a glowed dimly. Bad connection, I thought, I can fix this later, so I pulled out my spare light and completed the dive, but that was my last decent photo for the night.
The center of a tube anemone.
Red Reef Hermit Crab
Well, back in my room I found it wasn’t a bad connection, but a good old-fashioned flood. How the LED continued to work with the light full of salt water I haven’t a clue. I cleaned it out, scraped the contacts, rinsed everything with fresh water, set it in front of the AC to dry, and headed over to the on-site restaurant, the Chibi-Chibi for a late dinner. I got a table, ordered a Corona and a piece of fresh fish, and threw a few scraps of bread over the rail to the hungry tropical fish waiting in the glow of the floodlights. The breeze through the restaurant was perfect, the fish was delicious, and the Corona was ice cold. It was going to be a good week.
The next morning I grabbed a quick diver’s breakfast and got to the dive shop early to see what could be done about locating some computer batteries or renting a computer for the week, and darned if my luck didn’t change. They had two batteries right there in the shop, and only charged $2.50 apiece for them, cheaper than the States. I ran back to my room and loaded them into the computer, then ran back to the dock to catch the morning two tank boat dives. I saw a couple familiar faces on the boat crew from my trip to the Divi two years ago, which was a good sign considering the quick turnover of dive staff you often see at resorts. I then saw lots and lots of other faces on my dive boat, which was a bad sign. Each of the 22 or so divers on board had a face, and that was really too many faces for this boat. I elbowed into a narrow slot and began to set up my gear, when to my amazement I looked over and saw 6 snorkelers boarding. This was surprising, because I don’t remember any such crowding on my previous trip. Well, no worries, it’s a short boat ride and a big ocean.
Normally when I’m traveling alone I request permission to dive solo, but Without my pony tank I needed a buddy, so I was curious who I would draw today in the buddy lottery. There appeared to be the usual mix of Angus and Holstein, uh, er, I mean experienced divers and newbies aboard, so I crossed my fingers, and ended up with Trish, a USA expat now living on Bonaire except on working trips home to New York where she is a theater critic. We exchanged some words about the dive, looked over each other’s gear, and then I gave her my standard disclaimer, “I’m an UW photographer, and, as such, suck as a buddy”. The disclaimer now includes an out clause, so potential victims understand I have no problem if they want to choose another buddy. She said that going slow, not following the group, and not being glued together were fine with her, and she turned out to be a fine buddy and we ended up diving together several times.
The boat headed for Klein Bonaire, a small island less the a mile away from the Bonaire proper, which is always good news on a boat dive. Away from the shore diving pressure that is applied to the Bonaire reefs, the Klein sites seem to be a bit healthier and harbor a denser population of fish, and it may be just me but I seem to notice slightly better vis over there. Since almost all of the Bonaire sites are accessible by truck, I try to get to Klein as often as possible when on the boat.
Golden Eel
Juvenile Spotted Trunkfish
Since I was in the front of the boat, there was a line ahead of me to the dive platform on the back, and things were proceeding at a predictably slow pace. My buddy required assistance to get in the water, so she was first in line and waiting for me so I managed to clamber past several divers still in the final stages of gearing up and entered the water. As I came around the side of the boat to connect with Trish, I noticed another diver back-rolling in from a side opening in the boat, which I had waddled right past en route to the stern. Now why in the heck didn’t I think of that? Even though it turned out that this day was the most crowded of the whole week, and most of the other boat dives were much more reasonably loaded, for the rest of the week I just parked myself amid-ships only two short steps away from an easy back-roll, and avoided running the gamut three times a day to the rear platform.
The morning dives were typical Bonaire. Warm, clear, no current, and loaded with health coral and fish. The two tanks burned quickly as I clicked away with my camera, and before we knew it we were back at the dock and rinsing gear. Once stowed away, I headed to the dive shop to retrieve my pony tank and grab a cab into town to get a VIP. This was going to be expensive and a PITA, and would probably cost me my afternoon boat dive. When I walked in, though, the shop manager Serge informed me that he had done the VIP for me, no charge, and filled the tank! Back in business, and the large plate of baloney I had been fed by the assistant manager was quickly forgotten. It somehow popped back into my memory when I wrote this report, though...
Lunch time, and this time my Divi package also included a very nice buffet breakfast every morning and lunch at the Chibi-Chibi every afternoon. These meals were consistently very good, especially the lunch menu choices at the Chibi. The service was usually very good and meals came quickly, which is an important feature when you are between dives. The Caesar salads and fresh fish sandwiches were standouts. Unless you specifically want to sample lunch fare around the island, I would recommend the breakfast/lunch package highly.
Chibi Chibi restaurant, taken from the beach pier
The afternoon boat dive was much less crowded, which was more like what I remembered, and much more pleasant. At this shop, you signed up for the boat and location you wanted the day before, and as the boats became full they added more boats. The trick was to sign up first thing, just to be sure you had a slot, then move you name to the most recently added boat which rarely filled. I didn’t care much where the boat was going, there aren’t any bad sites on Bonaire, so I just took pot luck on the most empty boat. Since I was now diving with my pony tank, I just remained silent when the DM asked who needed a buddy, and started going solo on the trips when Trish wasn’t aboard. Luckily on this dive I followed the group, because the DM located a beautiful frogfish, the first one I had ever seen when I had a camera along.
Frogfish at Klein Bonaire
After the afternoon dive, it was time to visit a store for a few staples, and plan dinner. I decided to only rent a truck for the last three days as a cost saving measure, so I was on foot, but the very convenient location of the Divi made doing without transportation tolerable. Having said that, next time I go alone I’ll rent a scooter or something for the first half of the trip, as I did get spoiled on my last two trips with access to a vehicle 24/7. Anyway, I walked out the front gate, and about 1/2 mile later I was in downtown Kralendijk and perusing the isles of the local supermarket for essentials-beer and snacks. I prefer darker and more flavorful beers than the island staple, Amstel Bright, so as I was combing the beer isle for something a little more substantial I noticed cans of Amstel Malto. Now we’re talking! So I bought 2 six packs, some chips and fruit, and headed back. My route took me right past the Casablanca, an Argentina steak house we had visited and enjoyed last trip, so dinner planned itself.
Back at home base, I inspected my flooded light, and it had dried out completely, and miraculously it fired up and worked perfectly when I re-assembled it. Reasoning that it had flooded because I had only tightened the lens cap enough to turn the light on on the first dive rather than tightening it as far as it would go, I figured I had lucked out and would still have the spotting light. I put some extra grease on the o-ring and crossed my fingers. After returning from dinner at Casablanca, I iced down some Amstels for my apres-dive beverage, then waited for complete darkness and headed to the dock for night dive number two.
I geared up, headed out for a pleasant evening of unhurried photography, and my spotting light flooded again within 2 minutes. Damn! My new head worn light worked great, but when I was shooting a macro subject and looking at the viewscreen, the camera was in between the light and the subject. So, back to the drawing board, and back to holding the light with one hand and the camera with the other. With my more powerful primary light in use, I was soon surprised by a large tarpon swooping past, one of the many that frequent the Bonaire reefs and have learned to use diver’s lights to locate prey. It’s pretty startling to have a 4 foot long fish dart past you at night, but it’s really cool to have a “pet” along for a whole dive. This guy stayed around for the entire tank, sometimes passing as close as a foot away but never connecting with any food that I saw. I’ve seen these guys on night dives before, but never one that was as persistent.
Spotted Scorpionfish
Sand Diver
After my first full day of diving and four wonderful dives, I was really looking forward to a cold brew, so once I got back to my room I plunged my hand into the ice and withdrew a frosty can of Amstel Malto. Luckily, I was near the bathroom when I took my first big swig, because the unexpected sickeningly sweet liquid elicited a classic “spit take” into the sink. I quickly read the fine print on the can and found that I had purchased a “non-alcoholic malt beverage” that tasted like molasses mixed with sparkling water. You have been warned. Even funnier yet was the process of returning 11 cans of this slop to the supermarket, and the looks I got from the locals as they waited in line behind me while the crazy Yankee tried to trade up to real beer.
The next day was one of those “hey I’m really here!” wake-ups, you know, when it takes a second to figure where the hell you are, then you realize you’re on vacation. Wonderful feeling, especially when you are on the front end of the trip and have the whole week ahead. After a quick stop at the buffet for eggs and OJ, I boarded the boat, and set up my gear as usual, including my routine of hanging my mask from the Velcro strap on my BC so I can always find it when I’m ready for it. This time it was a big mistake. Divi boats have that plastic grabber for tank holders, and these were a bit worn. We hit some wake en route, and my rig fell out of the holder onto the deck. When I picked it up, sure enough the mask strap hinge was destroyed by the tank, and the strap was cut in half where it met the hinge. Prescription mask, too, and no spare, and I don’t need to comment on the magnitude of this loss to those of you who wear glasses. A helpful diveshop owner on board managed to pry out all the broken parts with his dive knife, and I had enough strap left to pull some slack through the buckle where the hinge fitted and tie the end in a knot to get through the two dives. Folks, that mask was TIGHT. I had the red ring on my face from hell.
After using up my luck on the computer batteries, I figured I was going to have to duct-tape the mask to my head for the rest of the trip, but wondrously the dive shop in the resort next door sold TUSA knock-off masks, and he had a bag of spare hinge parts and the exact strap I needed. I walked out with my mask as good as new for $11. Ok, I finally getting that save-a-dive kit I’ve been talking about, that was too close a call.
The afternoon dive brought some more fortunate luck, on it I buddied with another photographer named Dave, and hit it off so well that we planned an afternoon and night dive together the next day. I did another night dive from the Divi dock that evening, and slept like the dead after a nightcap at the Chibi Chibi bar.
The rental company delivered my pick-up the next day at lunch after my morning dives. Finally, wheels, and perfect timing. Divi has a storage building/fill station in the front parking lot, so Dave and I let ourselves in with the lock combination provided at to guests at check-in, grabbed some tanks, and headed to Red Slave, one of the southern-most dives on the island and prone to strong currents. No current today, but quite a lot of sediment and low vis, and slippery rocks on the entry. So slippery, in fact, that I ended up on my butt and had to hand off my camera to fight the surf and get back up again. One arm just wasn’t enough boost myself out of the waves. Turns out I could have left the camera on shore anyway with the vis, but who knew?
Red Slave was still a nice dive, but the night dive that evening was just strange. I can’t remember name of the site (I have quit logging dives), but we ended up on a steep wall that bottomed out at about 80 feet. As we went over the edge of the wall, we check for current and after reaching about 50 feet headed to our right. Almost immediately, Dave’s light flooded and quit. So, my gear jinx was spreading out to other people now, maybe it would leave me alone for a while. I lent him my spare light, and we continued. After a few minutes into the dive, I noticed the soft corals bending in the same direction we were heading. Somehow the current has reversed, and was now following us, and this was a pretty stiff current by Bonaire standards. We agreed to turn the dive early, at 2000 pounds, knowing we had a pretty good swim ahead of us. We ascended to the top of the wall at about 25 feet, and soon realized that the current was at our back again! The current swept us right along, and shortly we were back at our entry point with 1500 pounds left. It was like taking a circular route on a bike, and realizing you went downhill the whole trip. I assume we had a direct on-shore current, and when it hit the wall it spread into both directions depending on the depth. I didn’t mind at all though, because we just noodled around in the shallows for the rest of the dive and I got some nice pictures.
I have little to report about my fourth day. I did four dives, and nothing broke, flooded, or was destroyed. Ahhhh.
The following day after the morning boat dives, I decided to skip the afternoon boat and do my first daylight shore dive on the Divi reef. This was one of the coolest dives I ever did. Right off the bat, I ended up spotting a small but dense school of Smallmouth Grunts. I eased closer for some photos, and to my surprise rather than flowing away like usual the school allowed me to approach, and actually formed around me for a few moments as I took shot after shot at close range. For a brief time I could only see fish unless I looked up. It was as neat as it sounds.
School of Smallmouth Grunts
I then headed north on the reef at a pretty brisk pace, and after about 35 minutes I was ready to turn the dive when I noticed some vertical forms appearing in the distance. Curious, I decided to keep moving forward, and slowly out of the gloom appeared a forest of huge pilings among which were strewn an amazing assortment of old tires, cinder blocks, and assorted junk. I soon realized that even though the huge pier down from the Divi seemed pretty far away when viewed from the dive shack, I had actually covered that distance and was under the pier! And talk about a macro treasure-trove. With all the nooks and crannies in the junk, and the pilings crusted with coral and sponges, there was life everywhere. Eels, crabs of several varieties, fish schooling in gloomy shadows and hiding in the crevices, photos to be had in every direction. Just one problem, I was down to 800 pounds and had a long swim home. Reluctantly, I left this wonderful place behind and took a shallow route across the sand flats, and made it back with 200 pounds only to discover a colony of gobies who had made a home in the encrustations on the Divi dock pilings. I used up the last of the memory in my camera and my last breath of air at almost the same moment. What a dive!
School of White Grunts under the Customs Pier. Notice the junk on the bottom.
Goby safe at home
As soon as I got geared-down, I went to the dive shop and asked about the pier. It is called the Customs Pier, and is the only one of the three larger piers (the others being the Town Pier and Salt Pier) that can be dived without prior permission from the harbormaster. With only one more night to dive, I immediately decided to return to the Customs Pier after dark. During the afternoon I met up with an internet acquaintance who was also staying at the Divi with his wife. He had a brand new Olympus C5060 and a housing, and they were interested in getting together for a dive, so I explained my plans for the night dive and they eagerly agreed to join me. We met after supper as the sky was darkening, and as soon as we submerged we knew it was going to be a special dive. Within the first minutes we had spotted a sharp tailed eel, more tube anemones, and an octopus which had made himself a cozy home in the end of a large discarded gas bottle. I had offered to guide the dive, and promptly got dis-oriented in the sand flats and led us straight to shore instead of the reef as planned, but after surfacing and getting a bearing, I successfully located the open ocean. Ponce de Leon I ain’t. Back on course, we made good time down the reef and were under the pier in short order, and after that it was like popcorn popping. Stuff was everywhere! Shrimp, crabs, octopuses, tarpon, waving lights, flashes going off, pointing and smiling. Just an action-packed and terribly fun dive. My buddies went low on air before me, so they waved and headed back toward the Divi dock (we had agreed beforehand to separate if they needed to leave before me) and they reported later that they had encountered several squid on the way back. What a grand finale to the night diving portion of the trip!
Octopus in a bottle
Hairy Clinging Crab
Pair of Red Night Shrimp
My final full day on the island included two morning dives during which my camera housing fogged up inside, which meant no photos, so I clipped it off and just enjoyed the view. Actually, it was kind of nice and relaxing, it’s been a while since I did a dive where I wasn’t “hunting”. That afternoon I took my traditional spin around the South side of the island, only this time I had my new Sony PC-330 camcorder which has a 3.1 megapixel still camera included. I love this thing, and all topside photos in this report were taken with this camera.
Giant machines pile the salt at the Cargill Salt Plant.
The foreground shows the seawater in canals dug from the ocean to the drying lakes. Middle ground is the partially evaporated seawater, background is the mountains of resulting sea salt.
These wind-powered pumps keep a constant flow of seawater into the drying lakes.
The normally white flamingos drink the pink water, and take on the color.
These restored huts are a memorial to the slaves which were once imported to the island to work the salt operation. They lived in these tiny buildings in the blistering heat.
Kitesurfing is the rage on southern Bonaire. The reliable high winds make this a mecca for the sport.
My last morning I checked out and got to the airport 2 hours early, which was a big mistake because checking in for my flight took two minutes and then I had to kill time for two hours. My flight home included a three hour stopover in Curacao, so on the advice of the board I decided to visit the coral caves located near the airport. My first obstacle was trying to find a place to stow my luggage. Post 9/11, people just don’t want to look after unattended luggage. The lockers at the airport were too small, and the AA office wouldn’t consider letting me leave them there. They suggested hiring a cab to wait for me during the tour and leave my luggage in the cab. Yeh, right. Finally, a nice lady in the tourist office agreed to watch my things, so I went outside and negotiated a $12 cab fair to the caves. I hopped in, and we were moving for about 50 seconds when the cab stopped and the driver pointed to a gate. $12 for 1/3 mile. I got there just in time to join the tour in progress, and it was an interesting diversion, though any of you who have visited the caverns of Virginia (Grand, Endless, Luray, etc.) will be a little disappointed at the size and condition of the caves. I walked back to the airport and spent my savings on a wonderful lunch in the upstairs employees cafeteria. Be sure to remember this if you have a layover in Curacao.
So to wrap this up, after four trips to Bonaire I haven’t tired of this diving venue at all. Of all the places I have visited, no place else offers the diving ease and freedom. On this trip I really indulged myself on night diving. I did 5 night dives, one each night I was there until the time-to-fly restriction stopped me. This really is one of my favorite parts of diving Bonaire. On most trips night dives are only offered once a week, and then only if there are enough takers to pay the boat. In Bonaire, it’s just like the ocean is your private pool, for you to jump in whenever the mood strikes, night or day. It really is paradise for divers down there.
The Divi is on the whole a terrific place to headquarter a dive vacation. Good value, nice rooms, excellent location, good house reef and diver operation, good food, as well as a modest beach and great snorkeling for the non-divers along. The pools are a bit dingy and some of the grounds need some sprucing up, but it has improved since I was there two years ago and I will certainly return.
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© Mike Southard 2007
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