Naturist Divers Return to Sorobon
(A Long, General-Interest Trip Report)
Part 2
As shore diving is primary, we use a rental car -- last year for one week in the middle of the ten days. This year we had the car for the whole two weeks. We haven’t tried the rental agencies or varieties of vehicles. Sorobon rents small sedans and two divers can just fit.
We had our own brush with petty thieves. The newsgroup forewarned us not to bring valuables to the remote dive sites. We dove Weber’s Joy one day, and ours was the only car there. After we swam out and were about to let air out of our BCs, Bob saw a head peek out of the ruined stone building and he knew we were targets. (Luckily I didn’t see it and enjoyed this dive more than any to date.) The thief got the car open without breaking anything and made off with my water bottle. We were gloating: “Ha Ha! No money or cameras for YOU! One lousy water bottle -- not much of a heist!” Etc. Etc. But this glee was not to offset the inconvenience of having to leave our wallets and cameras at home. After all, we tourists are generally expected to document our every turn in photographs and to spend money like it grows on trees. Not on a remote shore dive, no sir. After several excursions flat broke, starving on the return, we did figure a way to hide a tiny bit of money for ice cream or something. I shall not announce to the entire internet where we hid the money.
Speaking of ice cream, in 1998, we never could find Prisca’s, and in searching made a spectacle of ourselves driving up and down the streets and alleyways, asking people for directions, but to no avail. This year, we arrived in Rincon via Gotomeer and lo! a sign is in plain sight. So after being lost for a year we finally stood in front of the legendary Prisca’s. I think I had pistachio and Bob had cherry.
Another safety issue to mention: Besides being warned of donkeys on the road at night, the taxi driver warned us that the special days involving Election Day, Labor Day, Queen’s Birthday, Rincon Day all signalled a phase of drunk driving dangers. And indeed it was a time of tragic loss of life in car accidents. We stayed put, homebound on the beach, even more deliberately than we might have otherwise. Even in the daytime, I was alarmed by the speed of some local drivers.
I know many readers picture bringing Michael Gaynor the latest New York Times on travel day; I did as well. Oh, I felt so virtuous buying that paper! I left him a message on his phone machine as to the exciting news, and as to our whereabouts. Many days passed. Finally, toward the end of the stay, I found a different grateful reader in Bruce B. By then rather old news, but he looked happy enough. (Were you out of town, Michael?)
Another thing many readers may have planned: donations to the Sister Maria Hoppner Foundation homes for needy children. We took kids clothes and colorful stickers. This was a really interesting diversion from vacation mode. We did go after school, but hadn’t taken nap-time into account. After school the boys were all in bed for a rest. We enjoyed meeting Tita and Jonny, though. We admire them enormously for the important loving care they provide, and will send badly needed cash in the future.
About diving. While we are mismatched dive buddies, we seem to take it in stride. Bob has thousands of dives; I have 35. We chose Bonaire for the freedom, and have been rewarded. No boats so far. (I won’t rule out a boat trip to Klein Bonaire someday.) We might not have had special things pointed out to us on our dives, but we also rarely saw another human being. Maybe it’s not unusual: I have trouble concentrating on the wildlife when too much “civilized” life on scuba is around.
To further our education, though, we attended the very worthwhile Sunday evening slide show of the Bonaire Sea Turtle Club at Captain Don’s Habitat. One of the memorable things was the slide of the turtle nest at Nukove. Digging in the sand could disrupt the eggs; in fact, it was stressed, all digging of sand is basically forbidden. Obviously. I was having a hard time reconciling this with the heavy equipment and dump trucks excavating the sand right next to Sorobon. (You don’t enjoy hearing loud machinery on your peaceful beach vacation...) But what made me want to go to the authorities was the thought that it was violating environmental laws. Trying not to be such a busy-body, I didn’t talk to anybody. I also assumed that they couldn’t be trying to get away with something in plain sight of everyone. I was shocked to read later that the scheme was to make a “sandy beach” at Tolo. Impossible! Mother Nature makes beaches; current and waves must be right for beaches. One can not simply plop sand anywhere, a place pounded with waves, and have a beach. The foolishness boggles my mind. I sincerely hope this has been stopped.
Speaking of waves, during our 1998 stay, there was a sizeable surf at most dive sites other than Windsock, North Belnem, Bachelor’s Beach (and Carib Inn dock). Being the newbie I kept choosing these calm sites, except the once at Weber’s Joy. We did 9 dives. This year, the waves were smaller so we also explored Alice in Wonderland, Andrea I and II, Lighthouse Point, Pink Beach, Nukove and totalled 13 dives.
The usual fish and creatures are diverse, plentiful, and beautiful to see. My log book contains quite a few repetitions. We haven’t seen anything to make headlines, but here are my special favorites: the simultaneous appearance of a huge, free-swimming, green moray eel in front of a spotted eagle ray off Pink Beach. Elsewhere: Tiny baby spotted drum. Huge blue parrotfish, the elder statesman for sure. Cleaning station activity. Hawksbill Turtle. Scrawled filefish being friendly. Baracuda staking out their turf. Varieties of eels. Full moonlight for a night dive.
A bizarre sub-theme of the dives has been trying to keep me warm enough. A full 3mm 2-piece wetsuit isn’t enough... A beanie, while very helpful, isn’t enough... Heat packs aren’t enough! First I sweat and struggle in the heat getting set up, running into the water to cool off part-way through, praying the heat packs don’t activate early, and then about 30 minutes in 78 degree water and I’m shivering. But we just joke about getting me a dry suit and make the best of it. (Actually I’m looking into the new thin neoprene skins which might stop the exchange of water inside my suit.) Before I got the beanie (many, many thanks to Tess for that one) we actually split one Windsock dive in half -- two 1300 lb dives off the same tank -- where the surface interval consisted solely of me beached in the sun, my black neoprene rewarming my bones. (Bob was probably just glad that his old ice-diving and gonzo dive-rescue-team buddies couldn’t see this absurdity.) People have offered me their body fat all my skinny life, but diving is the reason I could use it. And maybe snow camping. Ask Bob about that one. |
By Niki Harris on Tuesday, August 10, 1999 - 1:41 pm: 
