s/v Milly: 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.