{"id":161,"date":"2010-08-30T01:04:22","date_gmt":"2010-08-30T05:04:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/?p=161"},"modified":"2011-01-25T01:16:10","modified_gmt":"2011-01-25T05:16:10","slug":"diving-in-bonaire","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/?p=161","title":{"rendered":"Diving in Bonaire"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>There&#8217;s a backcountry skiing culture that can be seen on the traverse  over the Continental Divide in Colorado. At intervals along Loveland  Pass, parked in clusters along the lonely mountain road are cars, vans,  and trucks, seemingly abandoned with no signs of the occupants, and no  establishments for their patronage to explain the absence of the vehicle  occupants.<\/p>\n<p>The practice of skiing in the backcountry at Loveland  Pass is to pull over at a spot having access to a skiable slope of the  Divide, and hop on the slope from the side of the road. At the bottom  of the ski run, the skiers will either hitchhike or have a friend with a  vehicle to ferry the skiers back to the top of the mountain.<\/p>\n<p>There&#8217;s  an outlaw, renegade air about parking at where your heart desires, and  just hopping off the side of the road and making a ski run down the side  of an unmaintained, public mountain slope.<\/p>\n<p>Such was the diving  in Bonaire. Most of the named dive spots lining the divable western side  of Bonaire island are accessible as shore dives. Along the roads that  run along the undeveloped coastline can be seen pockets of pickup trucks  seemingly abandoned on the many crushed coral beaches. The trucks being  well worn, with spots of rust lent the scene that lawless feel.<\/p>\n<figure style=\"width: 320px\" class=\"wp-caption alignleft\"><img decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" style=\"margin: 5px;\" src=\"http:\/\/gallery.bluezulu.net\/d\/29188-2\/P5100474.JPG\" alt=\"Trucks on the beach, ready to dive\" width=\"320\" height=\"239\" \/><figcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Parked on the beach and ready to dive<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p>Being  divers ourselves, we followed the local custom of dumping our rental  pickup truck wherever there was a dive spot, then donning our scuba gear  and wading into the surf to dive, leaving our trucks on the beach  unmanned, unlocked, and with the windows open. We had been warned, and  there were stickers in the cars requesting &#8220;Divers\/snorkelers! Help  prevent break-ins. Leave your windows down and doors unlocked! Do not  leave valuables in car.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>My first real dive in Bonaire, not  including the check-out, shake-down dive at the dive resort&#8217;s house  reef, was Oil Slick Leap. As an introduction to diving in Bonaire, it  was unparalleled. Access to the water was both easy and dramatic. After  parking in the parking area, it was a short walk to the edge of the  island, followed by an eight foot jump into the water; a ladder was  permanently affixed conveniently nearby for coming back to land.<\/p>\n<p>Bonaire  diving was uniformly good. Great visibility in warm waters with no  perceptible thermocline. It is widely known for its abundance and  variety of sea-life. Southern dives are characterized by a double reef,  whereas dives on the northern end of the island had just a single reef  wall. Almost all the dives there followed the same prototype: a shallow  rocky, sandy shelf extending anywhere from ten to over a hundred meters  from shore, followed by a reef wall that bottomed out at at depth of  about thirty feet. On the double reefs, the sandy bottom between the two  parallel lines of reefs have a depth of a little over a hundred feet;  at the drop-off of the outside reef, the wall could go down to over five  hundred and fifty feet.<\/p>\n<p>While most of the diving was similar in  nature to each other, two stand out: the two hundred and forty feet  length Hilma Hooker wreck, and the Salt Pier night dive.<\/p>\n<figure style=\"width: 320px\" class=\"wp-caption alignleft\"><a href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Hilma_Hooker\"><img decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" style=\"margin: 5px;\" src=\"http:\/\/gallery.bluezulu.net\/d\/29133-2\/IMG_4144.JPG\" alt=\"Mast of Hilma Hooker\" width=\"320\" height=\"239\" \/><\/a><figcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Mast of the Hilma Hooker wreck<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p><a href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Hilma_Hooker\">Hilma Hooker<\/a>&#8216;s  demise in Bonairean waters occurred in the summer of 1984 when she  docked at the Town Pier with rudder troubles. Suspicions were raised  when her captain was unable to produce her registration papers. She was  boarded and discovered to be carrying 25,000 pounds of marijuana hidden  behind false bulkheads. The crew was detained and the ship was held as  evidence while the authorities attempted to locate the ship&#8217;s owners,  who understandably never stepped forward to reclaim her. The ship, due  to her poor upkeep, soon began to take on water. Fearful that the ship  would sink at the main dock disrupting maritime traffic, she was towed  and anchored at the Southern part of the island. On 7 September, 1984,  the ingress of water overwhelmed the pumps, and she sank in about one  hundred feet of water, coming to rest on her starboard side. Unlike  intentionally sunk ships that are more correctly called artificial  reefs, and which have been stripped and meticulously cleaned to prevent  its polluting the environment, the Hilma Hooker is considered a true  ship wreck, because with the exception of its illicit cargo, all of her  contents had been left in place since the vessel was considered evidence  in a developing criminal case. The Hilma Hooker is regarded as a  leading wreck dive site in the Carribbean.<\/p>\n<p>Possibly the most spectacular dive experience on Bonaire is the Salt Pier night dive.<\/p>\n<figure style=\"width: 320px\" class=\"wp-caption alignleft\"><img decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" style=\"margin: 5px;\" src=\"http:\/\/gallery.bluezulu.net\/d\/28881-2\/DSCN8791.JPG\" alt=\"Salt Pier\" width=\"320\" height=\"239\" \/><figcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The Salt Pier in the day<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p>The  pier is constructed off-shore, forming the end of a conveyor belt that  loads salt from the on-shore evaporation ponds to ships moored at the  pier. Both the salt works and the pier are owned by Cargill; permission  is needed from Cargill to dive the pier, and only when there are no  ships moored at the pier; a local divemaster is required to guide all  dives at the Salt Pier, which we arranged through our resort. On the  night of our dive, we gathered at sunset the resort to meet our dive  guide, only to be told that for whatever reasons, and despite repeated  assurances from Cargill, the ship docked at the pier still hadn&#8217;t left,  and wouldn&#8217;t leave, so our dive had to be canceled. Our pent up  anticipation having been dampened by our disappointment, we nevertheless  decided to head out and do a couple of night dives on our own since our  dive gear was already loaded on the trucks. We went to a dive site  called The Lake, doing the usual ditch the truck on the beach routine,  and additionally setting up shore strobes so that we could find our way  back to our ingress site at the end of the dive. After the dive at The  Lake, half the group wanted to do a second dive; I belonged in the other  half of the group who didn&#8217;t want to do another night dive. We moved  our vehicles up to another dive site that was opposite the airport, and  we non-divers promised the diving group that we&#8217;d baby-sit the beer, and  we assured them that there&#8217;d still be beer when they returned. They  looked at us suspiciously.<\/p>\n<p>Unlike all the other dive sites we had  previously visited, there was no beach parking at this site. We were  just pulled over by the side of the road. It was a wonderful night to be  sitting out with a beer in hand: the skies were clear, the weather was  warm, and there wasn&#8217;t much traffic on the road. Being opposite the  airport, every once in a while, an incoming plane with its landing  lights cutting through the dark would fly its final approach right above  our heads to land on the runway that was on the other side of the road  alongside which we were parked. The planes weren&#8217;t quite as low as the  ones at the Princess Juliana airport on St. Maarten, but it felt plenty  close enough for us to get a thrill out of being directly under a plane  that was to touch down just a few seconds after passing overhead.<\/p>\n<figure style=\"width: 320px\" class=\"wp-caption alignleft\"><img decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" style=\"margin: 5px;\" src=\"http:\/\/gallery.bluezulu.net\/d\/29142-2\/IMG_4472.JPG\" alt=\"A ray on the Salt Pier night dive\" width=\"320\" height=\"240\" \/><figcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A ray seen on the Salt Pier night dive<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p>The  moored ship left the next day, and we did manage to get to do our Salt  Pier night dive, which turned out to be one of the most unique dives  that I&#8217;ve done. The lights on the pier had been kept on, and they blazed  in the warm Bonairan night, giving us bands of shimmering illumination  and shadows as we swam under the pier. Because the pier pilings were  canted with a wider base and meeting at a narrower apex, the experience  was like diving within the arches of a shadowy, underwater cathedral.  While the other dives were characterized by swimming and covering  distance and seeing as much of the reef as possible, the Salt Pier dive  was marked by a desire to just staying within the confines of the pier,  seeing the sea-life wend their way through the pilings, and watching the  play of lights as they shone from the surface through the gentle waves  and through the legs of the pier. The Salt Pier night dive would  certainly go down as one of the more unforgettable dives for its  uniqueness.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>There&#8217;s a backcountry skiing culture that can be seen on the traverse over the Continental Divide in Colorado. At intervals along Loveland Pass, parked in clusters along the lonely mountain road are cars, vans, and trucks, seemingly abandoned with no signs of the occupants, and no establishments for their patronage to explain the absence of [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[14,12],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/161"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=161"}],"version-history":[{"count":25,"href":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/161\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":204,"href":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/161\/revisions\/204"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=161"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=161"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog.bluezulu.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=161"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}