Bonaire, day 4

Ahhhh, another glorious tropical morning. The sun is up, the birds are up, I’m up… sort of…
We have an 8:30 boat dive, so I’m up at 6. Breakfast at 7, with no big upsets or drama. Nice. Bacon, fried potatoes, fresh fruit and hot croissants. Topped off with bitter black Bonarian coffee. Heaven.

This morning we take the boat to Kline Bonaire to dive the “divi Tree” and “Bonaventure”. Our boat crew has us laughing and joining in our jokes. I don‘t know if it’s our group or the fact that we are Americans, but we are by far the most raucous and irreverent group at the resort. Most everyone else here is from Germany or Holland and we have decided that they are all agents of the KGB and hate us. The women are all beautiful and not afraid to show skin, the men are all ripped and tanned. Bastards!

Our boat has an engine out, so the captain is having trouble lining up with the dive buoy. Add a freashing wind and three foot swells, and guess who starts turning green? I know that once I actually get into the water and drop down I’ll be fine, so I put my gear together and get in fast. Nausea clears right up and we’re off…literally.

Americans don’t know how to slow down and just look at things. Our first three divers take off like a shot and swim along the reef like rabbits. The newbies linger in the back and the cowboys range out all over. Now, bear in mind that you’re not supposed to get ahead of the dive master. This poor guy is lost. I’m trying to pull everyone together and it’s like herding puppies. Finally, out in front, I write a note on my slate that says, “SLOW DOWN! STAY BEHIND ME”. This works pretty well but it’s too late. Some have reached the turn around pressure in their tanks due to swimming like marlin, so I call turn-around and star t heading them back. On the way back, we meet the dive master with a resigned look on his face. As the first divers swim by him going the other way, he looks at me and just shakes his head.

Back at the mooring, I notice that we are spread out over 300 yards of reef and I start to direct people to the boat. The first two groups make it up the ladder and I notice that the boat is not above me anymore. I know that I haven’t moved and I’m disoriented. Seeing the boat a good 50 yards away from where I think it should be (and at the outside of my visibility), I start to wonder if there isn’t another dive boat on our site and now I’m worried that I sent people to the wrong boat. Not a big deal, but embarrassing. Then I see the second wave of divers swimming like hell to reach the boat… as it streaks out of sight. I realize that the mooring line has snapped and the boat is drifting out of control with a third of my divers chasing it in vain.

So, I’m whirling like a dervish, trying to figure out if I should chase them or stay with the stragglers. Finally I spot our dive master who is spinning around, looking for the boat. I pantomime what happened and we decide to just stay where we are. He pops a float and we all take a safety stop. On the surface we are being pummeled by the swell and waves while we watch the boat pick up our second group of stranded divers. Theresa tells jokes and stories while I try to not drown. I drink a bunch of sea water and notice that I’m going up and down and side to side, and realize that the boat is at least 15 minutes away from getting us. “I will not hurl, I will not hurl” I tell myself.

Finally, the boat comes by and throws out a trail line. We grab on and pull ourselves hand over hand along to the boat. I’m whipped and the boat is doing the roller coaster. I think I’m going to be fine. Sit down, snap tank into holder and it hits me. I frantically wrestle with my straps and knock all and sundry aside as I run to the stern. Grabbing on to cleat for dear life, I succumb at last. Toss cookies, hurl, feed the fishes, chum the waters. Exhausted, I stagger to a bench on the top deck and, amidst snickers and outright slander, take a nap.

Refreshed back at shore, a nice light lunch in my belly, We load up and take off for the dive I’ve been waiting for…. The Hilma Hooker. A huge cargo ship that was confiscated during a drug raid and subsequently sunk in 90 feet of water under mysterious circumstances.

The Dive was great, the wreck lies on its port side. Lots of monster tarpon and eels make their home there. The exit was a bit rough and I got knocked down by a wave just short of shore. Was laughing uncontrollably and was pummeled by the surf for a good two minutes. Bloody shins, mask askue, I still couldn’t help but grin as we hopped in the truck and took off towards town for a soda and needed decompression.

Later, we did “Alice in Wonderland”, the prettiest dive yet, with an amazing amount of fish of all types. A must do for anyone visiting.

Cruise ships are in port, so downtown was transformed from sleepy little villa to bustling port city. Bought some souvenirs and headed back to the condo for a much needed shower and bit to eat.

Tomorrow: the “Hooker” again and more epic adventure…..