In a place where every dive is above average and amazing things happen on a daily basis, every diver in Bonaire has had some experiences that are just over-the-top amazing, extraordinary, unforgettable, rare, and touching. Donna and I are thinking that it would be interesting and fun if BTers shared their most amazing or unusual diving experience on this thread. And we'll start the ball rolling (the air flowing, the bubble ring rising...):

During our fourth trip to Bonaire last year, we were on-island with my 24-year-old son, Gideon, when we went down to the south end of the island and found to our delight that it was very, very calm for a change. It was time to "do" Red Slave. (At the start of this dive my digital still/movie camera had flooded so unfortunately there are no pictures.) It was 10 minutes into the dive and the three of us were swimming slowly north along the reef crest around 35 feet deep when what appeared to be an underwater cloud began to eclipse the horizon ahead. Looking for all the world like a biblical plague of locusts, an absolutely astonishing mass of fish was slowly drifting toward us. This immense school of "bait fish," larger than typical silversides like bogas, anchovies, and the like (they turned out to be scad),looked like a million eyes on a wall of silver as we approached closely. The fish were not alarmed and allowed us to circle and penetrate their space. Gideon, a mathematician by training and passion, visually broke the school into smaller sections, estimated the number of fish per section, and multiplied to come up with an estimate of the total number of scad in the school: between 80,000 and 100,000 individuals! We swam into the near-darkness below the fish. The space between the bottom of the slowly shifting school and the reef was around 8 feet and in that sunless area, three big motionless tarpon were just biding their time. Periodically, up in the school, a clearing would suddenly open as a band of five big crevalle jacks slipped through as if to remind other predators that they had first claim to the fish. These silver marauders definitely had their "game faces" on and left no doubt that they had big plans for these fish, plans that would probably be implemented around dusk. And from time to time a big ol' barracuda would race through trying his best to snatch some stragglers. The school was so big and so thick and so mesmerizing that we spent virtually our entire air supplies there. We would swim slowly into the flowing mass of life, disappear from each other's view, and look up into a clear round chimney where our bubbles had parted the fish. The mood of the experience and all its implied mystery entranced us. Of all the truly wondrous, amazing, and beautiful things that we have experienced in Bonaire's waters, this is one of those we frequently go back to in our memories.

Too bad there were no pictures (other than those in our minds).

So, what is your most amazing underwater experience in Bonaire?

OK, I'll chime in with one. There's no such thing, far as I can tell, as a bad Bon dive, so I'll offer my first- actually a snorkel. In fact it was this cold water diver's first tropical dive trip. By the time we left the airport, got to the hotel, and grabed a bite to eat it was dark. Naturally I had no air available, and no park tags, until the next day. But I was awake and on Bonaire, so I was going to get wet! My buddy and I tossed snorkelling gear in the truck and headed out, eventually winding up at Andrea II. It was well after dark and a little rough for her fatigue, so she stayed on shore while I entered the shallows.

First time I took a breath and "dove" to the bottom, perhaps 5 feet from shore and in maybe 2-3 feet of water, I looked under a rock ledge and came face-to-face with my first green moray. Not sure who was more surprised! A few minutes, and a few feet, later my light picked out a large parrot fish under another rock. Then a scorpion fish. Numerous smaller tropicals, mostly hiding for the night. Maybe ten minutes total, never more than 20 feet from shore or deeper than 4-5 feet, and I was hooked. My buddy, hearing my description (I was THAT close to shore)was torn between joining me in the surge or some overdue sleep, but the prospect of strapping on tanks and seeing Bonaire's underwater attractions properly, well-rested and in daylight, prevailed. But a few brief minutes in the water confirmed the wisdom of going to Bonaire.

And for pure relaxation Bonaire diving beats an hour-plus boat ride, 6 foot waves, ripping current, low viz, doubles and a drysuit any day.

Kissing groupers. On this last trip I saw three groupers/coneys, probably young males that were displaying. They would open their mouths as wide as possible and try to push another fish, mouth to mouth.

I have had several great encounters but the one that stands out the most happened on September 11th. I was at Kline on the Woodwind which was owned by Renee at the time and all of a sudden this HUGE turtle appeared. He was about five feet!!!! He was just a few feet beneath us as he glided along.It was as if we wern't even there and he stayed with us for about fifteen minutes! It was a very spiritual moment for me to share this experience with one of God's creatures!

My other great experience was more of a fun nature! I had the priviledge of watching a pair of Hairy blennies mating for at least a half hour!! I even was lucky enough to get pictures of it and it was right under the balcony of my room at the Divi!

Boy, this is a tough one...so many dives, so many wonderful things seen...Darlene, mating blennies? Where are the pics?

I think I would have to say on my trip with Kelly. It was raining heavily, and we got in the water at Playa Cha Cha...we were at about 40 feet and Kelly pointed up...I looked up...and it was the coolest thing ever to see the rain pounding down hard on the surface of the ocean...it really was surreal...we just watched it rain upside down for quite a while!

Off Klien at Forest, about three years ago, diving with Linda Baker from Carib Inn, last three minutes of the dive, a Green Moray and an octopus both tried to occupy the same coral head. And a battle ensured between the two. The octopus ended up one 'limb' less, with the eel shooting off past us to deeper waters. The whole event lasted 30 seconds, pretty wild.

Bill and Donna Goodwin wrote: "We swam into the near-darkness below the fish..."

Does anyone get injured when swimming in a "bait ball" by predators (tarpon, barracuda, jacks)? When doing this, I'm always a little concerned about getting bitten by mistake.

John R.

Bait balls are my favourite events, some years there are lots. Swimming through them is very cool with the ball parting and reforming around you.

We have also had many long turtle encounters swimming for 30 minutes with the turtle 3 feet away is very cool.

The coral spawning on Bonaire is fantastic with no restrictions on when you can dive and the reef next to the shore. Next week we will be there.

Bait ball dangers? Possibly - you've probably seen those videos of sharks working those huge baitballs off South Africa - THAT might be a time to stay away. In Bonairean waters the usual suspects around bait balls are, in frequency of appearance, horse eye jacks, barred jacks, tarpon, barracuda, and crevalle jacks. None of these have ever demonstrated the slightest aggressiveness towards us (other than those baleful stares!) but I suppose that if they were feeding (dusk and dawn usually) it might be wise to keep your distance. At any rate, I can't count the number of times I've swam into bait balls all over the world and I have never felt like I was swimming into danger - at least I still have all my fingers and toes... Tell you the truth, even if there was a minor danger I personally would probably risk it because the experience of being surrounded by a spinning galaxy of silver fish is superlative.

This thread gave us another idea - everyone has such great tales and favorite moments, perhaps we could have a contest with the prize for best story getting dinner for two at some willing-to-sponsor island restaurant! Then the best stories could be published as a collection and sold right next to Bonaire's Shore Dives (or whatever the name is of that delightful little yellow guidebook we all love. The proceeds could benefit one of the islands children's programs.

Cynde that's funny.... we are such kindred spirits. While reading the initial post, I was thinking about my most interesting experience and it was definitely the rain storm. There are just no words for that. I am so glad I experienced it with YOU, cactus flower.

In June I was diving Invisibles with my son and Craig and as we were coming in along the sand I saw a flounder tossing something about 8" long. I couldn't tell what it was but I stop and watch as he continued to do this, maybe he was trying to eat it or maybe it was just a game. As we stopped and watch, out of the sand came what looked like a conger eel, grabbed this thing from the flounder and disappeared as fast as he appeared. We each looked at each other with this look of amazement on our faces, and the poor flounder just sat there as if he were a kid that lost his favorite toy to the bully from school. It was like a cartoon it happened so fast.

HELP!

Let's define baitball. I thought a baitball was formed when a school of small fish get rounded up by a school of larger predatory fish, and these small fish frantically swim together in a condensed mass at the surface.

I think folks are calling bait fish schools baitballs.

I have been amidst a small school of fish which got 'herded' into a bait ball by a school of larger fish. Then lots of the bait ball fish got eaten by individuals in the larger school of fish. (It was eerie being in the middle of the predatory school of fish and watching these individuals go by with dinner in their mouths.) While the middle-sized school snacked, they were being herded by tarpon and barracuda.

Anyway, it reminded me of the cartoon of the little fish being chased by a larger fish; who, in turn, is being chased by a larger fish; who, in turn, is being chased by a larger fish!

Mare, you're correct - I'm busted using the term "bait ball" too loosely ... a school of baitfish can come streaming by, it can hang in a loose confederation, and it can even ball itself in what ichthyologists call an unpolarized group (facing all directions) - those are not bait balls to my thinking. But when predators come around, the bait fish respond by becoming polarized. The polarized group tries to get away by streaming all together in the same direction, EXCEPT that then the predators, whether by experience or genetics, respond by "heading 'em off at the pass" and herd them, to use your excellent verb, them into a ball. The bait will remain loosely "balled" as long as the predators patrol around it - we've seen this numerous times above the second reef at places like Alice in Wonderland, but as dusk approaches and the predators begin more aggressive, speeding up and snatching stragglers, the ball becomes very tightly packed, the truest form of "bait ball." BTW, commercial fishermen I know really use the term loosely, referring to any mass of bait as a bait ball.

Kelly and Cynde - ah yes, watching (and listening) to the rain on the surface from below - that IS so cool. One day last year that happened on two consecutive dives (Ol' Blue and BOPEC) and the funny thing, the skies were rain-free when we went in and when we came out! The truck had puddles in the back, the seats were wet (gotta leave those windows down)...

Mike - that is so cool - I've read about those sand eels in the ID books but never even seen a hint of one. Would you have any idea of how to find that one (or any other sand eel) again?

We did see a sharptail eel late one afternoon probing the sand until he found a suitable place, at which point he/she wiggled him/herself tail first all the way down until it disappeared entirely - no hole or crater to show where it had gone! How in the world do they respirate under the sand?

OK, here is a shot Seb took of the school of fish herding a smaller species (too bad we could not get a shot of the panicked smaller guys!) into a bait ball



and

We saw 3 juvenile queen angels today in 15 minutes of snorkeling at the inlet. One is rare enough.

Mare, great bb shots

Bud

Thanks Bud, I'll pass along the kudos to Seb, my photographer.
And good spotting -- THREE juvenile Queen Angels. You must be living right!
Mare

we swam through this at Oil Slick..the Jacks were on the outside of this giant pack.. just mesmerizing... I could have stayed there all day.. too bad we breathe air...

My Most amazing experience was last year with my father and brother diving Jeff Davis Memorial June 24th 2004.
A passing boat got our attention to turn around
and there was a Whale Shark! With a huge clump of Remora's around it's head and tail.
When we informed Bas of our siting he almost came thru the fence after us as he indicated he has been there twelve years and never has seen one.
It was the highlight of all my diving to date to experience this with my still diving 74 year old Dad.

Okay, the stories are coming in, and they are great - very real feeling, immediate, intimate, exciting ... we need to collect them all (with or without a contest with dinner at an island restaurant for two to the winner) and create an inexpensive little book like that wonderful little yellow Shore Diving guidebook. Then sell it on the island and give all the proceeds to one of those programs for teens and kids they have there - vocational training, other education, free time activities - i know I've read about such programs somewhere on Bonaire. I'm an editor and would gladly volunteer my services in making it all ready to print. Someone else can arrange for the printing (can be very simple and relatively inexpensive), distribution, and management of funds - probably someone who lives on the island.

Any support for this? I'm sure someone can further improve on this idea...

Freddie and Mare...you just brought me back to 18th Palm. For 4 days in a row that we can document, we had giant schools being rounded up into "bait balls." The darkness beneath them was intimidating, but not as much as being in the midst of them and having them part to reveal a tarpon. I loved that feeling - exhilaration and fear all at once. I think the first time I actually spoke out loud "Mr. Tarpon, I AM NOT FOOD!."

Bill/Donna...I think you have a great idea.

I don't know if this is in the "amazing" catagory, but it was very interesting. Last year we were diving in front of the Habitat and we came across these two scorpion fish. I don't know if it was a territorial dispute (or maybe it was over a girl scorpion fish), but they were mouth to mouth for quite a while. Eventually, one just gave up and went away.

Cynthia, I would catagorize that as amazing! I'll have to go drag my fish behavior book out!

About seven years ago, before Lenny made a mess of it, my dive buddy and I took a group of new divers to Nukove, he led and I brought up the rear. As we passed over the top of the reef and started our descent I rolled over on my back to take a look backward. As I did, from my left, a very large manta gently “flew” past and above me within only a few feet. Thrilling to say the least. When we got out I asked if anyone else had seen it and since no one had I was accused of making it up. Fortunately, two other divers returning just after us did see it, and me.

I, too, had an interesting school of bait fish encounter coming back from the Salt Pier a couple of years ago. I saw what appeared to be a cloud approaching. At first I thought it was the surge kicking up some sand but it approached fast and I soon saw it was an extremely large school of fish. I sat on the bottom at about 10 feet watching this school swim back and forth. When it was time to leave (yes, that air limitation again) I went a couple of feet forward and found my dive buddy sitting on the bottom watching, too. The fish were so thick we hadn’t seen the other.

And I also agree, watching the rain hit the surface is quite unique.

Being caught in a baitball is an amazing experience.

In June Jenni and I were coming towards the end of a dive just in front of Eden beach. We were at about 10m and had just finished some macro work when we were enveloped by darkness and we lost sight of one another, it was pitch black for a moment. I switched my torch on to be confronted by a wall of flashing silver, I snapped 3 photos but only the last one was in focus. After a few seconds the baitball moved on and about 20-30 large jacks came chasing in. A few moments later and they were gone.

It made a good dive into one of our most memorable. The amazing thing is that with thousands, if not tens of thousands of fish swarming around us we felt not a single fish bump into us. Polarised baitballs are a wonder of nature. Synchronised swimmers eat your hearts out!

The first time we went to Bonaire we had a truly unique experience. Dolphins are seen on Bonaire but then in groups. It was clouded and it had rain. We were late with our first dive at White Slave. When we walked towards the water we saw a dolphin jumping out. We looked at each other and immediatly we all three started running into the water. Just to see this dolphin swim. We could hear him but we did not see him anymore. A little dissapointed we swam back to shore when we saw at the sandy part, this one dolphin next to us. Playing with a small trunkfish. He took it in his mouth, throw it up and picked it up from the sand again. Normally dolphins are seen groups but this was one single dolphin, playing with a trunkfish. This was our best moment for four minutes we forgot everything, no more buddy, no more easy breathing, no more relaxing, no more control. All we could see was this dolphin. And it was great.

See also page ten of this brochure:
http://www.infobonaire.tv/ENG/divebrochure/

Here's a different one...
From May '05

After 9 great diving days and nights, Michelle and I were winding down our trip and decided to squeeze in one more late-evening dive before starting our flight countdown the next morning. It had just rained a bit and the sun was just sneaking toward the horizon under the murky westward-drifting clouds. We headed south, browsing the map for sites we had never tried before. "Sweet Dreams" seemed like an appropos title.

We geared up and waded in just as the sun's orange orb touched the edge of the sea. After navigating a forest of fans we worked our way down the reef in the deepening darkness, finding all the usual night-time suspects. I would light up a subject with our big UK Light Cannon and Michelle would swim up with the camera, navigating with a much smaller light, to attempt to capture the image.

That was perfectly fine, but on the way back - as I started to worry a bit about navigation due to a distinct change in current - Michelle's light dimmed and winked out, batteries drained. She scooted close to me, hovering like a moth around a blazing streetlight. Then I remembered what Bas had mentioned on a recent night excursion... something about sometimes being able to see the stars at night.

I took a mental bearing on the reef, grasped Michelle's hand and squelched the HID light. Then we waited a moment for our eyes to adjust.

For the next few minutes we simply drifted slowly through the twinkling glimmer of an immersed galaxy, watching a million dancing blue-white points of light wafting up and down the darkened shadow of the reef.

Hyptnotized, Michelle lost herself in the moment and let me pull her along as we glided towards shore, using nothing but the living "starlight" to find our way.

-LS

My most enjoyable experience is finding "my friendly stingray" on the east side. I have been able to scratch her wing tips over the past few years three different times. She seems to enjoy the light "scratching" on the top of her wing but gets nervous quickly when the bottom is touched. Even when she takes flight she seldom goes more than 30 or 40 feet before landing again.

Watching two green morays mate was a very interesting dive. They really know how to hug each other.

We have had many amazing Bonaire dives but I guess the the one that stands out as real amazing was the Manta Ray we spotted between La Dania's Leap and Karpata.

www.nfaithproductions.com/manta3.wmv

For me, it was the luminous ostracods. When you shine your light in a wide arc and back, and then turn it off, on some nights, they fire up their lumnosity in small rising chains. I could drain the tank watching.

BTW, that is my artists conception of what they look like, not a photograph. Yet.

another ostracod thread

OK...now I'll tell you about one of my favorite dive experiences! (This is Donna :-) ) We were at Oil Slick and...as usual, I get a little cold when diving (don't laugh...the water was 82 degrees!)so I motioned to Bill, I was going to do kick laps to keep warm! We were a little north of the ladder and I went south just doing a little exercising. Just as I turned to go south, a BIG loggerhead turtle (obviously a grandfather loggerhead) came up from depths. I was approx. 50 ft. deep. I was sooooooo shocked!!!! I followed him (he was going north). I was shouting underwater to Bill which sounds like "ooh ooh ooh ooh"....the word "Bill" didn't come out well :-)! Bill turned around and saw the turtle and followed him a bit. He was sooooooo close, I could see his shell (which really needed cleaning), his cute big face, his sweet flippers! He was just taking his time, checking out everything! I still could not keep up with him for long! He was just BEAUTIFUL and he was just cruising around! I still go back to that exact spot to see him when we are in Bonaire...but he is not there :-) That was my first loggerhead I had ever seen! I have only been diving since 2000. Bill has been diving before there were BC's...approx. 1959 (I was 3 years old!) The idea that keeps going through my mind is how many times we have missed BIG things or small cute things because we were turned the wrong way or just around the coral head from the turtle, green moray, spotted eagle ray, etc. Now I dive a little differently. I look at small things for a while, then I go out in the water column and look all around..up to the surface, out in the "deep blue", and at the yellowtail snapper that is trying to get in my BC pocket! Ah Bonaire...what a wonderful place...the ambiance.. it is to "dive" for!!!!!!! :-)
Donna of Bill and Donna

Can we have more that one Amazing Bonaire Experience?!?!? Cause...I have more. I'll ask Bill can I write more amazing experiences!!! You just never know...the next dive you go on, could be the one that you see.... 3 hawksbill turtles, a LARGE green moray (Charlie), a large Rainbow parrotfish, or a southern stingray!

Seb,
Great ostracod photo..............
I remember the baitball you showed me too. Maybe you remember that a peacock flounder was under it and swooshed up and grabbed a mossbongo. That was wild.
24 hrs. left.
bud

Mossbongo Bud? I thought it grabbed a red eared herring, is that a mossbongo? is that a Bonaireian name?
And that is not a photo, it's my artisits conception, except multiply the guys by 300.

Hey Bill and Donna! Can't wait to see you guys, know you are going to be here soon!

Anyway, I think my most incredible dive was around 3 years ago. It was off of Jake and Linda's old house on Kaya Rotterdam. There were about 8 of us and Hendrik for ScubaVision came along to video tape the dive. It was the night that the brain coral and star coral was spawning. It was amazing to see all those eggs release at one time! Smaller fish would go wild trying to eat as many eggs as they could. Hundreds of bristle star fish positioned themselves on the coral waiting for a feast. There centers were so full with eggs, they swelled up, you could see the eggs inside of them. Fortunately Hendrik did a GREAT video and Ed and I bought one. Now that I'm not diving yet (oh so close.....) I loved to pop it in the VCR and remember.....AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

See you guys soon!

Liz and Ed
PS I have NO affiliation with ScubaVision, other then purchasing the video for private use.

Seb,
Yup, they were red-eyed herring, like the Dutch that take the KLM flight in the middle of the night. Moss bongos to an Antillean.

Speaking of schooling fish, we swam with a school of ballyhoos out in the blue water yesterday. They quite interesting and laid back, until a predator shows up.

Back soon,
Bud

On our first trip to Bonaire, diving at the Forest site on Klein, my husband tugged at my fin. I turned around to look back at him...bug eyed with the thrill of a giant Manta Ray cruising along at our level. We were able to alert 2 others in our little pod of 6 divers; the other 2 never saw it. The DM waiting on the boat was jealous - hadn't ever seen a Manta in Bonaire.

That was 10-11 years ago, haven't seen one again.

3 years ago, off Atlantis, my wife and I doodling along at about 20m, about 20 minutes into our dive, observing small stuff close to the Reef. I looked out to the into the blue momentarily to see a large oceanic shark (I estimate 3m) moving parallel and fast to us. Some surprise! ( to say the least). Vital seconds wasted getting my wife's attention, by this time past us (maybe passed 5m close to us) and disappearing, she caught the rearward view as I did again. I remain convinced it was a largish singleton hammerhead. Seen sizeable sharks in many other places, in many other occasions, but always with escorted groups - seeing them when there is just the two of you in the water, and not even a car parked at the dive site always adds an extra frisson of excitement....

This is just a little amazing, seeing a spotted eagle ray is rather common down here, but for me this was special. I came over a coral head and almost crashed into this one who just finished his meal. He realized I had the right of way, so he turned left, but before he did I shot him , never saw one this close.

Dramatic shot of an amazing encounter, and you've got the best user name: Wish I Had Gills!

In the mid ‘90’s I ran into a green moray eel alongside the deep hulk at Habitat. She was stretched out along the open side of the wreck, in full sight. I lay down parallel to her (about 6 feet away, thank you) with my outstretched fin tips opposite her nose; I could not reach back far enough to get my fingertips opposite her tail. I later measured that as a bit over 10 feet. The big eels are impressive!!! My feeling was that her mouth was quite noticeable! All morays have mouths, of course, but this one was NOTICEABLE. (You know, when they open them to breathe.) When I moved a bit closer to her, she moved out to meet me. I decided 6 feet was a fine distance for observation since she stayed put then.

I later surprised a lady Our World–Underwater Scholar by pointing to the eel as she (the lady) swam alongside it on the other side of the hulk. I think you could have heard her comments into the regulator on shore. She wouldn't touch the eel though Tino had said it liked to be hugged. (No, I didn't hug it either!!! I might have been the second person to do that after someone I trusted did it first, in my sight. Just conservative, you understand. :–) )

I say 'she' because the talk on the street was that that eel was the larger of two refugees from Den Laman when the then large fish tank 'broke' one night and the eels ‘swam’ out to the ocean (ask the old timers on island about all that). I heard she was killed a few years later by the then Den Laman people in an attempt to recapture her (no relation to the present Den Laman people!).