They should have called it Bon-sea! This diminutive island, part of the Nederlands Antilles, has a population of only 14,000. Their main industries are salt and tourism, primarily dive tourism. It’s referred to as a diver’s paradise and they can, legitimately, lay claim to some of the best diving in the world. The island itself is somewhat dry and characterless, however what is lacking on the land, God surely made up for under the surface of the water! And, most importantly, they truly know how to look after their greatest asset.
No anchoring is allowed at all so no chance of wiping out years of coral growth in the process. Instead, they’ve placed numerous mooring buoys for visiting yachts and, at each dive sight, have placed smaller ones to tie dinghies and dive boats. A trip to the grocery store means take your own bags as they don’t issue those plastic eyesores one usually finds fluttering in the trees, on fences and clogging the gutters and harbours of other islands. The water right outside the town is absolutely crystal clear.
This little island could certainly teach many others a lesson on conservation. The children are taught all about the environment and conservation from an early age, thereby learning to respect and care for what nature has given them. And, because of all this, the fish are incredibly abundant and unafraid, the corals are spectacular and healthy – definitely a diver’s paradise!
Along with our ‘Argo’ friends, we managed to drag ourselves away from the sea for one day hiring a car to tour the island, something we’d seen very little of (too busy under the water).
The park is exceptionally dry with beautiful cacti and is home to many species of birds including flamingos, orioles, parrots, parakeets as well as large iguanas, wild donkeys and goats.
We spent the majority of the day bumping along the dirt tracks, visiting the rather wild windward side then down the calm and idyllic leeward coast. It was well worth the visit.
Upon leaving the park, we continued southwards to the salt pans with their conical piles of brilliant white salt and on to the old slave huts which had housed the workers in times gone by. These tiny buildings were home to the slaves during the working week, and, on their day off, they would then walk 30km to their homes in the north to visit family.
Considering that we arrived here with the intention of spending a week or two, and now eight weeks have passed, I think says it all. We can’t imagine finding anywhere where the diving is so accessible and so rewarding so we’re rather reluctant to leave. We’re sort of beginning to think that maybe we should just possibly contemplate the idea that we ought to perhaps start planning our next passage. Maybe. But, hell, who’s in a rush!?!



