After a fabulous, although challenging sail from St Lucia, primarily due to the number of sail plan changes required, we arrived in Bonaire on the morning of 8th April 2024. It was definitely a little surreal to be back after 10 years, but it was a visit we were both looking forward to, since Bonaire had remained one of our all time favourite Top-3 destinations after sailing all the way around the world.

Approaching the anchorage was the first sign that things had changed, given the unusual dispersement of yachts in the mooring field. It was no longer the well organised two neat rows of mooring balls and it seamed like a partial third row had been added somewhat haphazardly too. The number of yachts, or lack thereof, was the second indicator.

These anomalies were later explained to us by the marina staff, a marina that was now almost packed to capacity with local motorboats of varying sizes, compared to the handful that had occupied berths when we first arrived in Bonaire. Apparently a third row of balls had been added to keep up with the demand. Then a few years ago, local authorities took a number of decisions that has placed Bonaire on a trajectory that will forever change the island, a change that is already apparent.

As part of these changes, cruisers are now having to pay astronomical fees for the privilege of visiting this island. These include an increase of the mooring fees from $10USD to $35USD per night. Additionally, all the dinghy docks that were originally free, have been removed and consolidated into one dock at a cost of $35USD per month. A tourist tax fee of $75USD each is charged in lieu of hotel and car hire taxes, which has nothing to do with cruising, but we had to
pay it regardless and, finally, a charge of $40USD each for swimming, snorkelling and/or diving, regardless of the fact that, to date, we haven’t been able to tie up to a single dedicated dive / snorkelling buoy as these are permanently occupied by dive boats and only one vessel is permitted at a time per buoy. This was yet another change, as previously we could snorkel or dive anywhere. Needless to say, the additional costs make it too expensive now for cruisers to visit Bonaire for an entire hurricane season, resulting in most mooring balls being dropped in the water, after demand decreased significantly from last year, thus explaining the haphazard array of limited mooring balls still visible.

The most striking changes, however, were along the waterfront. Miles of new construction, including shops, restaurants, apartment blocks and chain resorts, which, besides being a major strategic change in direction to allow chain conglomerates onto Bonaire, has had the consequence of closing down most of the mom and pop boutique hotels and dive operations. There’s no doubt that the pandemic contributed to this outcome too, but sad, nonetheless to see. Add the numerous cruise ship visitors to the mix and we felt like we’d arrived somewhere entirely different. Fortunately some of the beautifully refurbished little historic houses are still present.

The most disappointing change, though, related to the single reason we loved Bonaire so much and was the islands greatest treasure; its abundance and variety of sea life and corals. The first clue that something was seriously wrong was our first swim off the back of Paw Paw and a glance under the water. Sadly we were not greeted by massive schools of fish and stunning colourful corals of all shapes and sizes as we’d experienced in the past. Instead, what we saw were a handful of tiny sergeant majors and desecrated bleached coral.

Deciding to explore further afield the following morning, after breakfast we donned our swimsuits, grabbed our snorkelling gear and, armed with the new map we’d been given on where we were allowed to snorkel now, we headed out for our first snorkelling adventure back on Bonaire.

What a disappointment this turned out to be. Not only were the snorkelling sites few and far between, but the two we found were completely devoid of sea life and the area was just scattered with dead bleached coral. This was exacerbated by the fact that we couldn’t get to any other snorkelling spots after deciding to dinghy over to Klein Bonaire to see how widespread this devastation was, because the dive boats were monopolising all the buoys.

A swim to our favourite little reef from Paw Paw that afternoon revealed the same situation. It was completely soul destroying to see. Returning to Paw Paw, it’s fair to say, Elaine was not in a good place. The disappointed was so profound, she couldn’t even put into words how she felt. She simply could not get over what we were witnessing.

Reports from other cruisers and locals we spoke to, confirmed the same thing, indicating that it was fairly widespread. The huge playful parrotfish were nowhere to be found, the myriad of large colourful angelfish were nonexistent, never mind trying to spot a turtle. Apparently at either end of the island sea life and corals are in better shape, but mostly all that remains are small schools of tiny fish, resembling more of a nursery than the fabulous natural underwater paradise we’d loved so much on our first visit, when we felt like we were floating on top of a giant aquarium.

An article released a few days later on most of the world’s major news outlets emphasised the situation; along coastlines from Australia to Kenya to Mexico, many of the world's colourful coral reefs have turned a ghostly white in what scientists have said amounted to the fourth global bleaching event in the last three decades.

At least 54 countries and territories have experienced mass bleaching among their reefs since February 2023 as climate change warms the ocean's surface waters, according to the National Oceanic Atmospheric Administration's Coral Reef Watch, the world's top coral reef monitoring body. More than 54% of the reef areas in the global oceans are experiencing “bleaching-level heat stress”. Scientists have expressed concern that many of the world's reefs will not recover from the intense, prolonged heat stress, indicating that what is happening this time is new for them and to science. Simply heartbreaking, especially since we had a benchmark to compare to; our first visit 10 years ago, and could see the devastation firsthand.

As a result, snorkelling is not an activity we are partaking in now; just too upsetting to see. Instead Roy is enjoying his early morning walks and Elaine is participating in the noodling sessions every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday mornings, frequented by cruisers, locals and an inordinate number of American and Canadian expatriates, the latter as a result of a major immigration influx from these countries in the past few years. While these sessions are great exercise they are also very sociable and include a weekly coffee morning afterwards. Other social outings have been with cruisers we’ve met since our arrival, including Zipper (Sophie and Jamie), Onyx (Nolene and Jeff), Ice Flow (Susan and George) and Mama Tried (Guy), where dinner outings resemble the league of nations; an aspect of Bonaire that has not changed. However, “Burger and Rum” night is sorely missed, since the pandemic forced Patreece to close his restaurant. Karels Beach Bar is still in business and thriving, though, evident by the major renovations and makeover resembling a South Pacific establishment, sitting on stilts with its high peaked thatched roof.

Coffee mornings, breakfasts, sundowners and dinners are enjoyed ashore at some old favourites, including El Mundo, Divers Diner, It Rains Fishes, but also includes new adventures such as Between2Buns, Number 10 Bonaire, a very quaint, eclectic little place, and Hooked on Sunsets, to name a few. Additionally, reading, listening to podcasts, evening walks to enjoy the sunsets and working towards finishing and uploading the huge number of our outstanding videos is also keeping us busy.

Another service that is now defunct is the free bus service that used to take cruisers to the main supermarket on the island, Van den Tweel, twice a week, so it’s back to walking or hiring a car. Fortunately Roy coincides our top up provisioning with his exercise walks and has the added bonus of bringing back freshly baked French pastries for breakfast, straight out of the oven. Doesn’t get much better than that. It helps that prices are far more reasonable here too.

Other activities, which one can never escape as a yacht owner, are the endless yacht tasks. Wanting to enjoy some R&R on Bonaire, though, these have been limited to activities like cleaning the stainless steel, cleaning the rubber trim and replacing our swim ladder teak steps which inadvertently got broken while we were being splashed in Grenada.

A definite bonus of being back in Bonaire, is feeling comfortable enough to sleep with the hatches open again, unlike our recent visit to the Windward Islands. Having fresh air all night definitely helps our sleeping patterns, leaving us more refreshed in the mornings. It is, however, the stunning sunsets, enjoyed over sundowners, that still make this a magical place!

Having time to linger, though, rather than being continuously on the move, has its drawbacks and in many ways is exacerbating our endless feeling of being completely stuck, given that we have been unable to sell Paw Paw as yet. It’s forced us to deal with situations we never expected to still be dealing with or indeed undertaking activities we thought would be behind us by now. Examples of this include the safety and security concerns we had in the Windwards Islands, having to do another haulout, undertaking passages again, dealing with ridiculous restrictions from our yacht insurance company in so far as where we have to be located for hurricane season, contending with the outrageous prices of goods and services since arriving back in the Caribbean, including having to pay for services we can’t actually use, etc. Everything feels like it’s certainly not all that scintillating as it once was! The fun seems to be ebbing away! In many ways this could be a good thing, ironically enough, as it may make our transition back to landlubber life a little easier, if that event ever occurs!

And now for another titbit of Irish tradition and custom; storytelling.

Seanchoíche - pronounced 'shanna-key-huh' - invites people to come to listen and engage with spoken stories, ranging from personal anecdotes to poetry pieces.

Seanchaí is the Irish word for a storyteller, and the plural is seanchaithe. Oíche is the Irish word for night. Together, seanchaí and oíche create Seanchoíche - or storytellers' night, where people from the audience are also invited to share their stories too. This is another tradition we’re looking forward to, whether listening or sharing a story or two ourselves. For now, though, we have to keep our focus on enjoying each day as it comes and remaining focused on the present. Again, not necessarily a bad thing!