Fai Tira Blog 16.00 UTC  Wednesday  27th January

Fai Tira in Bonaire and en-route to San Blas   13:20.09N 71:52.70W

This Blog will be of two parts.  I will relate the diving experiences to you whilst John will tell you about his bike trip around the island.  Sorry no photos as we are sending by satellite.

The waters around Bonaire were designated as a National Marine Park in 2000 by the United Nations as a demonstration site for management of marine protected areas.  The waters around the island are crystal clear and surrounded by a continuous fringing reef.  A shallow narrow terrace slopes down gently from the shore line to a depth of 10 metres and is ideal for snorkelling. It then drops off at an angle of 45 degrees to depths of 40 metres and is perfect for scuba diving which is why Bonaire is internationally known as one of the best dive sites in the Caribbean. There are over 60 named dive sites on the west coast of the island and all close to the shore. 

We are lucky enough to have Debs from Scott Free on the BWR.  She is a qualified dive instructor and is pleased to take the lead whenever we go diving.  She is very good not only helping out with the technical aspects but also she has an extensive knowledge of the reef and the creatures that reside there. 

I had three dives with Debs accompanied by some of the other BWR crews.  The first dive was at Sampler where seven of us sampled the delights of the reef underwater whilst the crew of Camomile snorkelled above. This wasn’t a particular interesting dive but it gave us sample of things to come. The second dive in the afternoon was very close to where Fai Tira was anchored, the site being called Something Special.  I buddied up with Derry who was only on about her fourth open water dive.  As soon as we submerged into a world of beautiful corals Debs pointed out a sea snake.  We then headed out along the reef to encounter a Turtle feeding, which wasn’t at all bothered about me stroking it.  We also saw a Stone fish, a Dab and many more unusual reef species. We all thoroughly enjoyed this dive and we surfaced just as the sun was setting.

Sunday saw just me and Debs, John and Eileen (Debs mum) heading off to a wreck site called the Hilma Hooker.  (Please do a “Hilma Hooker“ search on Google to see pictures of this sunken drug smuggling boat). The journey to the dive site seemed never ending as we trundled along in our little tender. When we eventually arrived John and Eileen went snorkelling whilst we headed out below the water to find the seventy metre wreck.  This was to be my first wreck dive and I was a bit apprehensive as it was sitting at 30 metres. As we approached the imposing hulk, the bottom of the hull filled our vision. Corals and Sponges were slowly migrating onto pitted steel.  We swam around the bow of the rusting ship as it lay on its side with the masts stopping it from falling over.  We swam through the cargo bay and then ventured into the dark engine room through the companion way, a tight fit with all the diving gear on. A good job Beds had brought her torch with her.   It was then out into the open and and light before venturing into the bridge, a very spooky experience.  Debs indicated we needed to get to a shallower level so we followed up the side of the reef with its abundance of corals.  We sat at decompression depth for a while when Debs let out a scream as seven Dolphins came zooming past just metres away.  They were followed a couple of minutes later by two more.  John who was snorkelling saw them from the surface. What a treat to round off a brilliant two days diving experience.

The enigmatic feelings I had of this place, were still present as we watched the coastline disappear into the distance early on Monday morning, feelings that had started as soon as we made our very early morning approach, well before daybreak.

This was a new culture. The Caribbean, where we’d been for so long, was now far behind us and we were now in Latin America. Gone were the soft yellow shore lights that provided such a mellow relaxed sensation. Instead we were greeted by the harshness of white lights that lit up the sky, making an altogether different statement and announcing a much more vibrant society that wanted to be seen.

However at 3am, as we made our approach whilst wearily scrabbling around to find the mooring buoys and heading for a position that looked for all the world as though we were about to park ourselves alongside a harbour at the end of suburban housing estate, its’ vibrancy was well and truly disguised.

Funny how daylight provided a whole new perspective that had the effect of quickly dispersing last nights’ perception of sterility, either that or the area had undergone a major overnight building programme, changing all of those ordinary, quiet residential dwellings into bars, cafes and restaurants that soon began to buzz with people and Salsa rhythms as the day progressed.

It’s impossible to avoid the influence of the cruise liners on Kralendijk, the main town, but it’s also not difficult to make the assessment of a strong underlying sense of identity and pride.

As Pete has already said, this is one of the major dive centres of the world, okay if you’re a diver, but I’m not. So my interest started out fairly muted. However Bonaire’s protective environmental policy isn’t just restricted to marine life.

A glance at the tourist map revealed a relatively small island, not only with masses of dive and snorkelling sites, but also with a huge chunk of land to the north, known as The Washington Slagbaai National Park. An area accessible by bike along a coastal route incorporating a cycle trail, that although not for the exclusive use of bikes, was almost deserted.

So that was my day planned then. Pete’s Sunday was spent floating around underneath the water in a constant state of wet. Whilst I set out on two wheels along the coast in the direction of Rincon Village and the National Park, with the intention of completing a circular route that would take me back along the opposite coast. A distance, so I thought of about 22 miles. However with the addition of the excursion to the park it turned out to be more like 30 miles, and with the exposed temperature in excess of 30 degrees it was debatable in the end just who was the wettest, Pete or me.

Unsure of what to expect my senses were immediately touched the peaceful beauty of the coastline,. the isolation, almost complete and the independence. What bliss..

Before I’d left the sprawl of the town, my attention had been grabbed by a inviting sign proclaiming arts and crafts.

A small workshop set back off the road revealed a treasure trove of goodies. The shop was owned and run by a very affable German lady, who had set sail from her homeland many years ago and not returned. The crafts she sells are from all over South America and I spent a delightful half hour just chatting

 Back on the bike and with the wind at my back, I was soon out on the track heading towards the vast distant oil storage depot, with the fabulous shore with its’ crystal clear waters and dive sites, on my left and the beautifully, coloured, eroded and sculptured rock faces to my right, even the tall red and white aerial masts added a surreal touch of beauty. The sights kept yelling out to stop and with complete silence other than the birds, these instinctive stimulants just had to be obeyed and I was during one of these impromptu stops that I was rewarded with the sound and sight of a pair of green headed parrots as they proclaimed their presence from the top of one of the many statuesque cacti that lined the route

The track proceeded past the huge oil terminal (right in the middle of a Marine reserve and national Park!!!???) and on to the flamingo sanctuary into Rincorn then on to the National Park, where my bike was turned away as it was now past midday ( something to do with safety, although I’m not quite sure why it’s safer before 12 o-clock) Nothing for it then, lock the bike up and walk. An ill prepared isolated individual apparently presents no safety risk, what ever the time of day.

My token venture in, on foot, although not long did at least give me the flavour of an environment that was ferociously hot, spectacular, arid also one that demanded total respect.

The journey back was difficult mostly uphill and always against the wind. A tired and thirsty me eventually trundled back to town, satisfied, hot and completely knackered!!

Thank goodness for those houses that turned out to be bars.

Although as I said earlier, I’m no diver,  I feel that I can’t finish without saying something about snorkelling with dolphins..............................Yippee!!!!

Photos in next blog

Bye for now.

Pete and John