Diving Bonaire

These tiny blue polka-dot juvenile yellow tail damsel fish are among my favourite.  No sign of a yellow tail in the young.  I go for the cute as opposed to the big and threatening.

Truck dive, dinghy dive, yacht dive, night dive, day dive.  We did it all!  And loved it.  We even purchased our own tanks and are now fully equipped apart from a compressor.  Bonaire boasts some of the best diving on this side of the Great Barrier Reef.  Most of the protected reef that encircles the island begins just offshore which, uniquely, makes it possible to swim out to explore.  If the sites aren't close enough to dinghy to, we could take the boat.  All sites are equipped with shore access points and a mooring ball for boats to tie to.  The infrastructure makes the diving or snorkelling accessible and easy. And the fact that the entire shoreline is protected means that the fish are many and varied.  All but sharks which are not invited.

Getting ready for a dive from the back of the "cruiser's truck".  We could just walk into the sea and float to the dive site.  

Our night dive had a mission attached.  We were in search of the ostracod, a tiny crustacean, typically 1mm in size.  Within five nights after the full moon, it rises from the soft coral in what we understood was a mating call from male to female.  It's bluish bioluminescence appears in vertical dotted moving strands.  It's really tough to describe! And no photos were taken - you just have to believe me. 

To see the bioluminescence at it's best, and under the guidance of Rhapsody, an American boat who had done several ostracod dives, six of us went on iCat to the leeward side of Klein Bonaire, a smaller island of the "mainland". It is protected from all development and, hence, very dark.  We got into the water just after sunset, descended to a spot where we were surrounded by soft coral and then floated and waited.  Slowly one or two ostracod strands glowed.  Within minutes we were surrounded by hundreds of glowing blue pinpoints.  It was amazing!  Followed by a night dive with flashlights in hand.  Followed by a potluck dinner on iCat.  Followed by a motor back to the mooring field.  A grand adventure!!

Preparing for our night dive on iCat which was packed with dive equipment for six.  Just jumped off the back of the boat, shortly after sunset.  Very exciting adventure!

The Ostracods looked like this but without the swirl.  Kind of like New Years Eve streamers. You would think, as you drag your finger across the "strand", it would break the bioluminescence.  But no! it doesn't affect them at all.  Mysterious and very cool, especially surrounded by the black of a night dive.

We celebrated Christmas Day with a dive off the back of Milly with friends, one of whom was a beardless Santa.

All underwater photo credits go to Sabine on iCat.  Thanks, Sabine!  After seven years our underwater camera's seals are not doing what they should.

Blue-tipped anemone

A blue tang, also among my faves, visiting some brain coral.

A speckled eel looking threatening but actually just breathing with open mouth.  Nonetheless, showing it's sharp little teeth.  Interesting but not among my favourites.

Fat Fungus Coral

Fireworm

Flower Corals

Juvenile French Angel Fish

French Angel Fish - most often hang out with their mates

Among the strange fish, a peacock flounder, with two eyes on it's flat horizontal side - if you understand what I mean

Very large green moray eel, watching us from inside a pipe.

Our final dive at the salt pier was our most eventful.  Fish seem to like hanging out around the human detritus that the pier and it's making provide.  A great barracuda on one side was not paying much attention to us but I was paying close attention to it.

A green moray eel later swam by.  Definitely the biggest we've ever seen.  He was on one side of us at the same time as the barracuda was on the other.  I needed to have eyes in the back of my head.

These trunk fish are also odd.  Long and exceedingly thin with huge eyes and not a very fishy shape.  They hang vertically in the water, trying to look like coral or vegetation, waiting for prey.  Or they swim directly over and just behind a fish, using the fish as camouflage.

The parrot fish is a dime a dozen in the reefs but never get ho-hum.

Last sighting on our last dive.  Never tire of turtles.

Another strange one - a pufferfish looks kind of big, slow and dopey.  Huge eyes and large roundish head.  It  puffs up with prickles if threatened.  Not so dumb, after all.

Scrawled Filefish

And another great shot of an eel.  Remember, it's just breathing!

Another favourite, these box fish are sometimes, so tiny they look like cartoon characters.  From the back or front they look triangular and somehow very friendly.

Christmas Tree worms on brain coral.  When touched the trees collapse into themselves.

We had a wonderful time.  We dove six times with dive partners Zoltan and Sabine.  So fun to be underwater again.  Very Zen!

Bonaire on Repeat

A blow hole at the northern tip of Bonaire on our first of a few explorations with new friends.

Our unexpected boat work had kept us a month in Grenada.  Our friends in Curacao who we had planned to meet up with had moved on to explore further afield.  The ABC’s are a good stepping stone on our way to Panama.  So which one to choose?  In the fall of 2016, we spent about a month playing in Bonaire.  We were with six other cruising boats who we had met in Grenada and became fast and firm friends with.  Many of us carried on to Columbia for further land adventures.  Peter and I had such great memories of Bonaire that it was easy to choose it as our midway point.  We intended to stop for a week to ten days - dive, hike and bike.

Flamingos, one of thousands, that make Bonaire their home.  Ranging in colour from almost white to deep peachy pink.

In theory at least, Bonaire prides itself as an ecotourism destination and islanders are serious about conserving Bonaire's natural beauty including the flamingos.

They are sociable creatures usually in large groups.

Our passage to Bonaire took just over three days, arriving in the morning of our fourth day.  We had a comfortable downwind sail but Milly was not through with her complaints.  The webbing on the tack of our screecher tore making it unusable and meant that we could only use our Genoa instead of sailing wing-on-wing.  Our sump pump to drain our shower - a treat after a hot day on passage - stopped pumping.  Our fresh water pump became first erratic, then only worked by manually turning it off and on at the electrical panel.  Our toilet outlet in the guest head cracked and leaked.  And our port engine was leaking coolant in an elusive spot that we could not find.

The harvested salt from the salt pans looks like snow, a strange sight in an incredibly barren and hot land.  The pans become pinker as they get more concentrated.  Pink water on one side, crystal clear blue sea on the other.  And billowing salt suds, like soap suds from a washing machine gone crazy, blowing across the road between the two water bodies, where we were cycling.

Over a thousand wild donkeys wander the island and look at us as curiously as we look at them.  We admire.  They probably don't reciprocate.  

These thorny yatu cacti make effective fences, keeping the donkey and human riffraff out.  Only the birds seem to manage to perch on top without ado.

.... and maybe these guys who are also all over the place.  This and two other hang out at the marina garbage, waiting for edibles. 

As we approached the large protected mooring field at Kralendijk, the sudden squall that had reduced visibility to 100m cleared to unveil two huge cruise ships dominating the town and harbour and towering over the two story high-rises of the town. 

A shock and, admittedly a sore-point, were the cruise ships stacked at the waters edge in town.  The one in the foreground is relatively small!  The dock are about 200m from the end of the mooring field.  Skilled driving was needed and demonstrated.

Several birthday/Christmas presents to Peter who has been hankering for a simply stored boat to sail around the anchorage.  Inspired by Tom this summer at the cottage who winged back and forth with ease, this wing foil has proved not as simple to sail as it is to store.  We are on a steep learning curve, first to learn to balance as one of us is pulled behind the dinghy.  When we finally do manage to foil, we last a few seconds before splashing.  (By the way, it's upside down on Milly's deck here.  So far no action pics.  We're too busy driving the dinghy or falling)

On the very positive side friends on Yacht O, who we had not seen since 2020 in Grenada greeted us in their dinghy and led Milly to a mooring ball which they had saved for us.  To prevent damage to coral, yachts are forbidden to anchor anywhere along Bonaire’s coast which is designated as a marine park.  In previous weeks/months, the mooring balls were in such demand that boats were forced to wait for days/weeks in the marina.  We were extremely lucky to have O on the lookout for us and actually, on the day of arrival, had three to choose from.

As a group and for those who want, the cruisers have at their disposal a truck to rent by the day for $20.  Provisioning, touring and truck diving made easy.  The truck seats four comfortably, five with a pinch, but, of course, we were most often six.  Two rode in the back.  This time it was Peter's turn.

A hike to the highest peak, Mt. Bandaris.  At 784 feet, it wasn't too high but the climb was steep over rock.  We were swept by a stiff wind at the top.

The island is barren. Unless planted in a garden, most of the green is from scrub and cacti.  This is the "longest" vs highest tree on the island.  Swept by the strong, consistent trade winds, it grows horizontally.

Our initial reaction to our return to Bonaire was tinged with disappointment.  The cruise ships were definitely “in your face” and hard to ignore, the mooring field was full and our time was dominated for the first ten days with scouting out parts and boat work which seemed to lead to more boat work.  And we missed the carefree frolic with our friends of years past.  O left for Puerto Rico, after a brief overlap for sundowners so we were on our own.

Another hike to one of the estimated 400 caves in Bonaire.  This one was deep and dark.  Bats fluttered around us.

I kept my hat firmly on head.

Paintings from Amerindian people, probably painted prior to Spanish explorers claiming the island as their own in 1499, are still evident.

Amazing that we and any one else could just wander in.  No signs or plaques.  Reminded us of the ruins, temples and graves that dot the Turkish countryside, accessible to any and all who care to check them out.

The growth of stalactites. One cm in 100 years?

New found friends made our stay in Bonaire a real pleasure!

However, as always in cruising life, we met a Swiss boat, iCat, and a German boat, Queen Emma, who were friends of other dear cruising friends and our life became very busy with shared hiking, biking and snorkelling.  And food and drink.  We were having such a lovely time with them that we were happy that weather and boat work delayed our departure so we could celebrate Christmas and New Years with new friends.  (During COVID time when we have stayed put longer than we usually do - weeks and months compared to overnight or days, we have found that as we spend more time, we meet more cruisers and so have much more of a social life.  It becomes more difficult to pull ourselves away.). The cruise ships gradually faded into the distance.  And, again, we loved Bonaire.

Lionfish are a menace to life on Caribbean reefs.  In places like Carriacou and Bonaire, where spear fishing is banned to tourists, lion fish hunting is encouraged.  We went on a lion fish hunt in Carriacou and received a Padi certificate as a result.  Here, we didn't do the hunting but we enjoyed a burger at a celebrated food truck on the sea.

Christmas Eve dinner at a delicious tapas restaurant.  White wine, no aquavit.  We had it for New Year's Eve, hosting dinner on Milly.

We biked to one of few farms where spinach seemed to be taking over in a riot of 8 foot vines.  

Peter enjoying iguana stew, much to the distress of our veterinary friend.  It tastes like chicken - of course - with tiny, bothersome bones.  It was billed as an aphrodisiac.

Christmas Eve in Bonaire.  We missed our children but had a great time with good friends.

The Christmas winds which we had wanted to avoid on our passage to Panama were well established.  The infamous pocket of foul weather along the Columbian coast was almost permanent at this time of year.  Gale force winds kick up enormous waves and swell.  We were looking for a drop in the wind speed and a smaller patch of no-go area.  January 4th was the day.  Our friends headed north to Dominican Republic, three boats in a convoy, and we headed west, excited to reach the first previously unvisited country since leaving Cabo Verde in January 2020.  Panama here we come.

Setting up for a group photo...

...the timer is ticking.

On a bike ride around the southern tip, we saw many sculptures made from the flotsam that came ashore.  He is an especially good one.

Good-bye, Bonaire.