Bonaire: Day 2

Woke up this morning and groggily crawled out of bed. The travel and heat accumulated from yesterday really wore me down. But, got up out of bed and mosied (yes, it's a word) my way on down to the medical center to have a dive physical. Now for most of you unaware with the dive process, a dive physical is a secret contract between the powers that be (PADI, Dive Shops) and doctors in which you wait much longer than is necessary to have a two minute consultation with a doctor where he reads over your personal history (which you have already filled out) then looks in your ears and listens to you breathe. And for this you pay a whopping $50. I am sure there is reciprocation towards the dive industry in some way for this procedure, like beers or some other form of dive instructor currency (we take cash, food, beer, and the occasional bit of promiscuity). Whatever it is, it's ridiculous to have to pay $50 for a doctor to tell me I am ok doing something I've been doing for over two years now.

With that over, I make my way to "work"(check to the side: view from Yellow Submarine site) but not before stopping at the local grocery store for some sort of Dutch pastry-hot dog creation (hot dog with ketchup inside pastry shell? Hell yes) and.... PEACHES! I have been craving peaches for so long. And granted, they said they were nectarines, but they weren't! They were most definitely peaches! Not good peaches however. Still appreciated, just not fantastic like I was hoping for.

Once at work, I changed over into my "uniform" (board shorts and Dive Friends Bonaire blue rash guard shirt, oh and my rainbow sandals) and jumped in the back of one of the Hilux's (four door Toyota pickup-perfect for island life) and we were off to the other dive office site (well, one of the other 4) to pick up snorkeling equipment. My partners in crime were two Dutch students, Anouk (my favorite Dutch name by far) and Christal (sp?) who are in Bonaire doing an internship/study abroad for school. Not a bad internship whatsoever. After loading up the truck, we were off to Windsock Beach to set up for the day (named Windsock as the planes fly in at really low altitude to the airport, right over the beach. Hearing the big KLM 747 coming in today was awesome). At the beach we met Walt and his wife Lynn, two former nurses who escape New Jersey to volunteer on Bonaire over the winter. Again, not such a bad deal. We set up all the masks and fins along with a tent, soda cooler, first aid, chairs, etc etc. It's sorta now that I really realize that while I actually have to work, I get to be on the water all day for my job. Yes...

The first batch of cruise-shippin' snorkelers arrive at 12:30 and after introductions (which I had mastered in Cal IM sports training clinics) I take a group right off the bat to show them around. Yes, I am a tour guide. Now, it's kinda weird cause I have no idea what a lot of the fish on Bonaire are called. But neither do the tourists, and that's the best part. I dive down to 8 feet or so to peek in a little cave of coral. What's there? An octopus. Can't see much of him, but he's there. And I be sure and ask everyone "Did you see it? Isn't it cool lookin'?" (then follow with head-nod semi wink expression to push the point on through). Sidenote: tourists love to see whatever. It doesn't matter to them. They really have no idea and that's great for me. I get to just show them some cool stuff. Like parrotfish. There are lots of them out there, but they are brightly colored and make a crunching sound when they eat. More or less parrotfish are the Fox News of the scuba world. Easily digestable (not literally), and little substance. But for the masses, they work just fine. I spent about 45 minutes at a time swimming around with the snorklin' folk. See that eel? Sweet. While not a guarantee every time, we in the dive industry (and yes, I will consider myself to be part of it now) work for tips, cause standard pay isn't that great. So everytime you can show someone an eel, or an octopus, or some little dinky fish that is brightly colored, the sounds of dropping guilders into our bucket start to go off in one's head (I may romantically use guilders, but in reality everyone uses dollars). I did this for a couple hours, occasionally chasing down the rogue group who swims out too far and in general trying to show everyone "good things" as one Brazilian mother put it today ("Can you show me good things underwater?" in very thick accent). In between finding good things, I ham it up with the guys and flirt with the women and girls (I have a theory that teens are a goldmine for tips, just gotta impress the parents that you are engaging their child and keeping them happy during the dreaded "family time"). We go through two groups and then take down our site, heading back to Port Bonaire (dive shop south of Kralendijk) and then to Dive Inn to help my neighbor Frederique and another dive instructor Beb to wash and put away their equipment from the day.

Eventually, we make our way back to Yellow Submarine which is the main site and hang around for a bit. There, I meet nearly the entire staff which was very overwhelming. I'm not great with names, but have been doing alright so far. Also happens to be another Californian (yes, I consider myself that now too) with DFB named Mary Lou who went to UCSD and happen to know some of the same people - small world. Anyways, we all have dinner together (chicken satay, mmmm...) and I try and get to know everyone a bit more. I've decided I'm going to try and learn dutch so we'll see how that goes. As the sun went down, we cleaned up and dispersed, off into the night.

Tomorrow: Must get a bike (will fix up one at the apartment). Also, will try and drive stick (this could be interesting). And, more snorkel cruise shippers with Walt in the morning. And a party tomorrow night with the "Young Folk" of the island.

From Bonaire, this is the luckiest guy in the world, signing off for now to go do some work. Divemaster studying. I love this kind of study. At any rate, I leave you with this, my "This is why I love life right now" thought of the day:

Riding in the back of pickup trucks on a tropical island might be the best form of transportation.