|
|
|
|
|
|
|
You are welcome to apply any part of this article to your own personal use. Please do NOT publish any part of the article or apply any part of it to any non-personal use without the express written concent of the author.
It’s Wednesday evening, and we’ve just viewed the Green Flash, that elusive phenomenon where the last vestiges of the setting sun turn green for about half a second. My wife, Kit Hitchcock, and I have just arrived in Bonaire, one of the three Dutch ABC islands. Curaçao and Aruba will be visited in turn when we leave here on our way to Cartegena, Colombia. Volant, our custom Ted Brewer 38’ steel pilothouse cutter, brought us here. We’ve just left Venezuela, having spent several very enjoyable months there. Bonaire marks the two-thirds point in our year and a half long circuit of the Caribbean Sea.
Clearing in is quite simple and straight forward. A quick trip to Customs and a couple of forms to fill out. No fees. But I will have to return tomorrow and turn in my Hawaiian sling as they don’t allow any type of spear guns.
After Customs, it’s a quick trip to Immigration at the Police Station in town and another couple of forms to fill out. Again, no fees. The only difficulty is that they’ve moved their Immigration office last week and there’s no sign out front so you have to be part detective to find it. It only took me about an hour, but find it I did.
Back to the boat for a wonderful dinner Chef Katherine has laid out for the crew, her world famous Hearty Beef Stew. Delicious.
And a nice quiet evening.
Thursday morning. Thanksgiving Day. I get up and take a look at our new surroundings. We’re at anchor off the main town of Kralendijk (pronounced: CRAWL-in-dike). There are two commercial piers and a ro-ro (roll on, roll off) pier just to the south of us. To the east is a low, flat sister island, Klein Bonaire. The anchorage is the only place on the west side of Bonaire we’re allowed to anchor. We can’t anchor anywhere around Klein Bonaire. And on the east side we’re only allowed to anchor in Lac bay, a windsurfing mecca. The entire area is the Bonaire Marine Park (BMP), arguably the premier diving location in the Western Hemisphere. Given the clarity of the water in the anchorage, it’s got to be a diver’s paradise.
The buildings ashore are clean and crisp, painted soft pastel colors, with yellow and pink being the most prevalent, very few in white. All seem to have tile roofs, mostly red with a few other colors thrown in. There are a few three-story buildings, but most along the city front are two-story. All can be described as being of Modern Dutch Colonial design. The cars moving along the city front seem to be mostly of recent vintage, the pedestrians well dressed in casual resort wear. From our vantage point on the boat, it looks like a refreshingly clean and prosperous town.
Our anchorage is along a narrow shelf. Narrow, in that only fifty yards from the shore the water is a hundred and fifty feet deep or more. BMP has laid down two rows of moorings, an inner row along the shore where the water is around eight feet deep and an outer row another fifteen yards farther out where the water is around thirty feet deep. They’ve done a good job staggering the moorings such that most boats have plenty of swinging room. It looks to me like there are moorings for the neighborhood of forty boats.
We’re at anchor because all the moorings are taken. There are few anchoring spots here as there’s not enough room between most of the moorings to drop the hook and still have adequate swinging room. We found one at the southern most part of the anchorage, between the North Pier and the short pier sporting Karel’s Bar. We’re told that on Friday and Saturday evenings, there’s LOUD live music at Karel’s Bar, so we might want to be some distance away by then. If we don’t get a mooring, and can’t find an open anchoring spot, we’ll have to head in to one of the two five-star marinas.
It has been our general practice to stay aboard relaxing on the first day in a new place. Being Thanksgiving Day, Chef Katherine spends the morning and into the early afternoon preparing a wonderful meal. And while she’s slaving in the galley, I sit down at the computer and work on preparing our web site to be updated up to, and including our arrival here.
We’re a little light on ships stores right now. There’s no turkey, but we do have a chicken ready for roasting. The rest of the meal includes stuffing, wild rice, white rice, and creamed corn. We have a large number of crew aboard that needs feeding: our erstwhile captain, the mate, navigator, quartermaster, supercargo, purser, bosun, chief engineer, able assistant chief engineer, Chef Katherine, Sous Chef, long suffering galley drudge, ship’s diver, "Eddie the Bartender", and Nurse Kathy among others. It takes two sittings to get them all fed. There are no leftovers. A very special treat for all.
And, of course, our long suffering galley drudge and his assistant have to clean up the entire mess after all had eaten their fill.
Time to launch Rampant, our inflatable dinghy. The web site is ready to be updated and email messages have been prepared to let our families know we’re alive and well in Bonaire.
It’s a short trip of only twenty yards to get to Karel’s Bar where we can tie up. We look around for a cyber shop and finally find one, but they’re putting on a seminar and won’t have their equipment available until Monday. Bummer.
So we keep looking and asking. Finally we’re sent to Bonaire.Net. Hans and Rea put together web pages for businesses here on Bonaire. They’re delightful people and were more than willing to help us out. Our web site got updated, our few messages were sent off, and (gulp) thirty-two messages that have been accumulating over the past three weeks were picked up.
Back to Volant to load the messages into the computer for reading. And a nice evening it is, reading and rereading our messages, formulating responses, and allowing the feast of the early afternoon to digest. And, sadly, no Green Flash due to the cloud cover along the horizon.
Friday morning while Kit cycles the engine and refrigeration, I climb into Rampant to look up and down the anchorage area for an open mooring. We really don’t want to be so close to Karel’s Bar tonight when they turn up the volume.
And we’re in luck. I find the only open mooring in the whole anchorage. It’s not as far away as we would like, but it’s definitely an advantage over our current anchoring spot. To mark the mooring as ours, I leave Rampant tied to it. Baraka, with Guy, Mausia, and Guy’s niece, Jennie, aboard are on a mooring not too far away. We’ve become pretty good friends with them since we met in Puerto La Cruz. Guy is kind enough to pick me up at our new mooring and take me back to Volant.
Kit’s finished cycling the engine and refrigeration when I arrive, so we immediately weigh anchor and move over to the mooring. Kit drives the boat while I’m at the bow to pick it up. I’m ready with enough docking line to run from the bow of Volant out to the mooring ring and back to the boat. When we leave, we want to be able to cast off from the boat and have the line run through the ring so we can pick it up from the bow. Much easier that way.
But the line from the mooring to its base is too short. I cannot lift it up high enough to run our line from the boat to the mooring ring. But with the dinghy tied to the mooring, that makes it easier. I simply jump into Rampant, run the bitter end of our line through the ring and back to the boat. I then climb back onto the bow and secure the bitter end. We’re made fast. The water’s a bit shallow here, less than six feet at low tide. But if the wind doesn’t shift to a westerly component causing us to swing into the much more shallow shore, we should be okay.
Now for some shoreside activities. We need some cash, so the first activity is to visit a bank. Bonaire, being a diver’s paradise, is the perfect place for me to get my diving certification. I’ve had to rely on snorkeling to clean the bottom of the boat, or have had to pay professional divers who, for the most part, haven’t done the job we need done. For the second of our shoreside chores, we want to find a good dive shop where I can get that certification. Jennie, on Baraka, is leaving early Sunday morning for Palo Alto, California, our home town. She has volunteered to take some mail and small Christmas packages with her to be delivered to friends there. So the third of our shoreside activities is to purchase gifts for our family and friends.
Finding a bank was no problem. They were all too happy to give us a cash advance on our VISA card. But changing our remaining Venezuelan money into local currency was something else. We were finally able to find a bank that would buy our remaining bolivares, changing them into the Netherlands Antilles Guilders. With the exchange rate of 1.77 guilders to the US$ and a rate of 570 bolivares to the US$, it was a shock to see how few guilders we got for over 12,000 bolivares.
Hans and Rea had given us a reference for a dive shop. It’s not associated with a resort so their price and schedule flexibility is expected to be more reasonable. The only problem was to find it. The street it’s supposed to be on doesn’t appear on any of the tourist maps. Rea had shown us where to look for it, but could only give us general directions. We have to go south of town, find a particular mini-market, go around the corner from there and we should have no problem locating it.
So we start walking along the city front, heading south. After a mile or so, we run out of road because a resort is taking up the beach front property for the next half mile or more. We take a jog one block inland and keep going south until we can’t go any further. A resort marina is in the way.
Walking around a bit we see a dive flag fluttering in the breeze. It’s on the property of the resort marina, so we go in to investigate. Is this the one we’re looking for?
No. But they tell us of a dive shop next to a mini-market nearby. So we head off looking for that mini-market.
We find it, but the dive shop next to it is closed and it’s not the one we’re looking for anyway. We ask in the market for directions to the street where our target is supposed to be located, and get some directions. The end of the directions say that we have to ask again when we get so far.
Okay, we’re game. So off we go again.
It’s not that far away when we spy the street name we’re looking for. Turning down the single block, we find the number and see a small rock painted with the name of the shop. Looks promising.
So we knock. It’s a residence, but close enough. We have to go around the corner to the front of the shop.
Finally we’re here. The shop owner is very nice and appreciated the recommendation. He’s going to give me the course starting Sunday morning, and will have some second hand equipment ready to sell me by the time the course is completed on Thursday. Plus, his instructor lives not far from Karel’s Bar, so he’ll have the instructor pick me up on Sunday morning to take me to the class. As difficult as it was to find this place, we’re very happy at the price and the service we’re receiving.
And it’s back to town to begin Christmas shopping.
One of the interesting things about the ABC islands is that they have their own language, called Papiementu. They all speak Dutch, as it’s the language of the schools and of the legal system. Most know Spanish as they trade a lot with Venezuela. Most also know English from their tourist orientation and from mandatory education in the Dutch secondary education system. So it’s quite common for the man on the street to be fluent in four languages.
Papiementu is a curious mixture of Dutch, Spanish and Caiquetios Indian with Portuguese and a few others thrown in for a bit of spice. Spanish seems to have the prevalent influence. Listening to the local people talk to each other in the shops and along the street sounds refreshingly like Spanish. With our Spanish and German language knowledge we can understand a lot of what’s being said. Seeing Papiementu written on billboards and on signs in the shops lets us know that it is definitely not Spanish, Dutch or Portuguese, yet it’s close enough that we can understand a lot of what’s written. But there are some times when I can’t understand a thing. Probably the Amerindian influence.
Our shopping is not complete, but it’s time to head back to the boat. It’s getting dark and we want to watch for the Green Flash tonight.
We get as far as Karel’s Bar, and stop for a beer to quench our thirst. It’s after 1800 by the time we get to the boat. I was able to see a very weak Green Flash but Kit missed it. She must have blinked at the critical moment.
Back to Volant for a quiet evening of reading materials in preparation for the diving course on Sunday.
Saturday morning arrives and we’re up reasonably early. We have a lot of shopping to complete by mid afternoon, in time to get the wrapped gifts to Jennie so she can pack.
So off we go to town. We visit this shop and that, slowly finding what we want. By 1230 we’re done. Back to the boat for a quick lunch. Then back to town as the laundry that accumulated over the past three weeks, ten kilos (22 pounds) of it, is ready to be picked up. Back to the boat then back to town again for groceries, as we’re having Baraka for dinner tonight. Our faithful burro is having a workout today.
It’s 1600 by the time we reach Volant for the final time today. There’s some clean up and a lot of preparation to be done before the crew of Baraka arrives. They arrive fashionably late for Swiss people, only ten minutes after the appointed time.
And a wonderful evening we all have. Chef Katherine has some hot hors d’oeuvres to go with the rum and Cokes that "Eddie the Bartender" serves. Then we go below for a dinner of cracked conch, fresh from Islas de Aves. Delectable.
Finally the bewitching hour arrives and Jennie has to call it a night. She has to be at the airport before daybreak. We hope to see her again some time.
Sunday starts several days of pretty much the same activity, lasting through Thursday evening. This starts my five day scuba certification course. And Kit, at the very last minute, has decided to do the course with me! After all, she says, we be cruzin’!
So we’re up at 0700 to catch the early weather report on the SSB, get ready and dinghy over to Karel’s Bar to catch our ride to the dive shop, spend the morning in class, get a ride back to Karel’s Bar to dinghy back to the boat for lunch, dinghy back to Karel’s Bar to meet our ride at 1400, spend the afternoon in class, catch a ride back to Karel’s Bar about 1630, and dinghy back to the boat for dinner and homework.
For variety, every few evenings we’d stop at Karel’s Bar for some beer before returning to Volant. On Wednesday evening we went with a group of our fellow cruising friends from Manta Raya, Dream Catcher and a few new boats to the Green Parrot restaurant for what is arguably the best cheeseburgers this side of Miami. And there was a bit of boat maintenance to do, as the watermaker blew a fuse and the refrigeration compressor blew a v-belt.
The dive shop, Blue Divers, treated us wonderfully. They were willing to do a certification course with only one in the class, had excellent equipment, cheerful service and well qualified staff. We confirm that Blue Divers are not associated with a resort, and their prices reflect that fact. Most of their guests come and stay in their apartments for a week or two, renting a car to go independently to the many dive sites that are shore accessible. There’s no signing up for any waiting lists for a novice "resort dive", no having to meet a boat at 0700 for a trip out to the reefs, and no missing the dive if you’re two minutes late. But if you do want a "resort dive", Blue Divers are happy to oblige.
And each of the dive sites on Bonaire are different. We experienced that first hand in our course. Many of the early sessions were held in shallow waters near the shop. When we were ready for deeper dives, we moved just a hundred meters further away from shore and got to see Calabash Reef with its lovely coral formations and myriad sea creatures. For our final dive we were taken to Oil Slick Leap where we had to jump into ten foot deep water from a rock ledge about five feet above the water, then quickly moved into deeper water with a very different coral arrangements and many fish we hadn’t seen at Calabash Reef. One yellow tail snapper followed Kit for a good half hour along the fifty foot level.
And I have to say how proud I am of Kit. Formerly known as Nervous Nelly for her anxiety whenever it came time to don a mask and snorkel, she has now made several dives to depths greater than forty feet. Kit’s totally removed her mask under water, replaced and cleared it. She can control her buoyancy underwater, hovering inches off the bottom for minutes at a time. She can safely ascend to the surface from thirty feet down without relying on air from her regulator. She can tow me fifty meters on the surface. And vertigo? Ha!
And Carson, our instructor from Switzerland, is a real gem. I think that it was his calm patience that kept Kit going whenever the Nervous Nelly syndrome hit. By the fourth day Nervous Nelly was nowhere to be seen. Thank you, Carson.
Receiving our certification on Thursday afternoon and picking up some good used equipment from the dive shop, I immediately descended into the briny blue to clean the bottom of our boat. In an hour and a half without coming to the surface, I’m done. Diving to clean the boat’s bottom myself is something I’ve been wanting to accomplish almost since we first thought about doing this trip. Now with the certification and training, I can safely do the job and get my tank refilled at any reputable dive shop anywhere. To say that I’m pleased with the results of the course would be a gross understatement.
Friday morning finds us back to a more normal routine. It’s time to change the oil in the engine and see if we can find the source of some water in the bilges.
The oil change procedure goes pretty quickly until I check the heat exchanger zinc. The last several times I’ve checked it, the zinc has broken off inside the heat exchanger. I thought I had it fixed the last time, but no, it’s broken off again. And this time all my ministrations to clean out the remnants of the broken zinc from the cap were to no avail. I have no more spare caps, so I’m not able to attach any replacement zincs in the heat exchanger. Eventually the inside of the exchanger will corrode and get salt water into the engine. I will have to get a new cap pretty soon, and if not I’ll have to replace the exchanger before salt water can get into the engine.
We do find a source of water in the bilge under the saloon. It’s close to lunch time and the leak is very slow, so I decide to address that item tomorrow. It’s time for lunch, and we have a dive planned for the afternoon.
The dive is planned for the Close Point reef on Klein Bonaire. Guy from Baraka is going with us. Mousia is a bit under the weather so can’t go diving and it’s never a good idea to dive alone, so we’ll have a threesome. We hadn’t planned on Kit taking diving lessons, so we haven’t purchased any equipment for her yet. For this dive, Kit is borrowing Mousia’s equipment.
It’s about a fifteen minute dinghy ride to the dive mooring. Guy has his gear, my tank and Mousia’s equipment in his dinghy. Kit and I follow in Rampant, carrying the rest of my gear plus her fins, mask and snorkel.
The base of the mooring is in deep water, too deep for us to descend along the mooring line. Guy, an experienced diver, proposes that we snorkel into shallower water for our descent. Since this is the first time that Kit will have used this particular set of equipment, we may need to do some adjusting of weights on her weight belt and that should be done in relatively shallow water.
The precaution was unnecessary, as the weights were perfect for her. And down we go into the wonderful world that covers seventy percent of our planet. The colors of the corals, fish and other creatures are magnificent. Kit’s equipment doesn’t include a depth gauge, so we don’t go very deep and make it a short dive. But for our first dive after the course, it’s quite successful. We’re thrilled!
Back to Volant to clean and stow our gear, and a nice quiet evening.
Saturday morning finds us in a caucus. As much as we’re enjoying Bonaire, it’s time to move on. The fair weather season off Cartegena, Colombia, is now. If we wait too long here we’ll have to transit rough seas when we leave there. We’ll leave Bonaire tomorrow morning.
So Rampant takes us ashore for some last minute grocery shopping, photo developing, email, and for clearing out with Customs and Immigration.
First stop, the one hour photo shop in the little shopping mall across the street from Karel’s Bar. The photos will be ready in one hour.
Next is email. We’re getting pretty good at this, sending off a dozen messages and picking up a half dozen more in thirty minutes.
Back to the boat for a quick lunch. On the way we stop to say a quick hello to the folks on a Searunner 31 trimaran on a nearby mooring. We had a Searunner 31 many years ago. This one carries a South African flag. Neville and Pippa are very welcoming.
After tuna salad sandwiches we head back to the trimaran, as we have a magazine article about Jim Brown, the boat’s designer. When we had our trimaran, we were always interested in articles about them, and about Jim Brown in particular. This time we climb aboard for a quick tour. Ah, such nice memories come flooding back, even from only the feel of her as we climb aboard.
Now Rampant carries us to the marina where, we hear, there’s a fairly well stocked chandlery. Arriving at the marina we don’t see it in an obvious location. But we do see people on Manta Raya, so we stop to say our goodbyes. Todd was given a good sized tuna this morning by a neighboring boat. He gives us a couple of nice filets. Diane tells us where to find the chandlery, so we tearfully take our leave.
The chandlery is closed. We’ll have to wait until we get to Curaçao before getting that hose to fix the water leak and getting the zinc cap for the heat exchanger.
Back ashore at Karel’s Bar for the last trip. Our photos are ready, and we take a few minutes to excitedly look through them.
Groceries are purchased, limited to the amount our trusty burro can carry.
On the way to the Immigration office we are hailed by Bruce of Dream Catcher sitting in an open air restaurant with friends. He’s going to be seeing Manta Raya today so we give him a photo to take to them. Sadly we say goodbye to him, giving our best to his crew.
Checking out with Immigration is quick and easy. Our Hawaiian Sling is picked up at Customs when we check out with them.
Sadly we stop to say goodbye at Baraka. Originally they had planned to go to Cartegena but with Musia’s illness they’re staying longer in Bonaire and will be going directly to the San Blas islands of Panama. Hopefully we catch up with them there.
Back to Volant to stow our purchases, and stow Rampant on deck. I don my bosun’s cap to work on preparing the topsides for our early departure tomorrow while Chef Katherine prepares a dinner of fresh tuna steaks.
Before dinner is ready, we’re given a small package from a German boat to give to another German boat already in Curaçao. We’re happy to make the delivery for them.
Sunset ceremonies, but no Green Flash. And the marvelous dinner is followed by an early bed time.
At 0600 Sunday morning the alarm goes off. It’s hard to drag myself out of the bunk, but somehow I do manage. I go topside finishing up my last minute bosun chores in a light drizzle while Kit does the quartermaster chores below decks. The engine is revved up at 0700, and at 0715 we’re slipping the mooring. In minutes we’re in blue water with Otto, our tireless autopilot, doing the steering.
The winds are light, it’s raining and we’re about a half hour behind our anticipated departure time so we motor for a bit. Bonaire has an oil terminal so we keep an eye pealed looking specifically for supertankers. One is spied on a slightly converging course, so we turn on the radar to track it. We’re not on a collision course, but we’ll cross in front of their track a little too close for comfort. I pick up the revs on the engine to have us cross earlier. Eventually we do clear their track about three and a half miles in front.
The rain has stopped. Time to set the sails. We’re running wing and wing, with the wind almost dead aft. With the five to seven foot seas sluing us back and forth, and with our heavy rolling, I elect to run without the spinnaker.
The wind shifts as we turn the southwest corner of Curaçao, staying dead aft. At least the seas are a bit flatter so we don’t roll and bang so much.
The entrance to Spanish Water is very narrow and hard to spot. The sailing directions in our cruising guides are very helpful, so it’s not that much of a problem. We just need to be sure to enter in good light to spot the reefs that line the entrance.
The "Q" flag is raised. And in we go at 1530, just a bit later than we would prefer but still with good enough light. Just as we’re about to enter the pass, a large motor yacht is exiting. Oops. Not enough room for the both of us in that entrance so we make a quick circle. By the time we’re finished, the yacht has left and the entrance is clear. In we go.
The pass is about a half mile long. The south side is a popular swimming beach, roped off for the safety of the swimmers and sunbathers. At the rope is tied dozens upon dozens of small craft, mostly power boats and water maggots, er... jet skis, er... personal water craft. Most of the power boats are less than twenty feet, with a smattering of craft up to about forty feet. Everyone is having a good time. Especially the teens on the water maggots and in some of the more powerful muscle boats, zipping by us at around fifty knots while we plod along at a safe three or four knots.
As we exit the pass and enter Spanish Water, the zippy craft keep on a-zippin’. They zip through the anchorage only a scant three feet from the anchored boats, some of their drivers checking out the girls in bikinis in other zippy boats instead of watching where they’re going. VERY DANGEROUS!
Anchor down on the second try. Boats zipping by our stern every few minutes. We’re here! Hello Curaçao! What adventures do you have in store for us?
|
|
|
|