Naturist Divers Return to Sorobon
(A Long, General-Interest Trip Report)

Read this when you have plenty of time (2215 words!).

Part 1

In 1998 we adventured to Bonaire for the first time, for ten days. Before the stay was half over we said to each other, “Next year. Same exact vacation. Two weeks. Enough said.” Took all the guesswork out of vacation planning (as opposed to 1997 on Grand Cayman realizing we should have made many different arrangements and concluding we should just never go back).

We really enjoy the convergence of two vacation themes: shore diving the Caribbean reef and lounging nude in the hot weather. (For those who don’t do nudity: I met Naturism at age 40 and can say that shyness melts away and we feel very comfortable even with strangers. We always meet wonderful people at Naturist events, and Sorobon Beach Resort is no exception.) Back to the report...

The trip from the Pacific Northwest is a long one. In 1998 we included an overnight in Miami, partly because the year before, storms had made us miss the late plane to the Caymans, messing up my first day’s referral for Open Water Certification. Two days of airport travel was gruelling, but strangely, the best service came on ALM. Go figure! Despite the experiences of many others on other days, I found ALM to be in fine form, in and out both years. Of course, when I mentioned this perfection to Tess at Carib Inn, where we rent tanks and weights, her eyes widened and she said, “I’m going to have to fly when *you* fly!” (Instead, I think she went back to England.) So, this year, vowing not to waste precious vacation time, we used a Wednesday, from 4:30am Pacific Time to 9:00pm Bonaire Time, flat-out-running from plane to plane (4 different flights), taking the direct flight, skipping Curacao. It was still gruelling, but worth it.

Arriving at night the second time wasn’t strange; it was like coming home. The first time, we were driven in a chilled taxi at night along the straight, narrow road to Sorobon, streaked with crazy tire marks, lined with cactus, and being warned of collisions with amorous donkeys. Then, stepping out of the van, whereupon our glasses fogged over, we gratefully tumbled over our dive gear, blinded and steamed in the hot wind. We knew we had travelled far from the ice and snow at home!

Sorobon Beach Resort has 15 duplex chalets (30 units) right on the beach. It’s an “eco-hotel,” which I take to mean tries to conserve resources and retain an outdoorsy feel. No AC, no TV/Radio, no loud activities. We love it that way.

The bay is shallow and the reef is a 15 or 20 minute hike knee deep (straight into the wind) for wonderful snorkeling. Windsurfers share our corner of the island. The tradewinds can be quite relentless here and this suits them perfectly. We usually can’t hang out for long without going behind the palm-covered wind/sun-shelters along the beach. In fact, on the first night, the howling wind made us think of blizzards instead of balmy heat. It took days to stop visualizing snow while hearing the sound at the screened windows.

Both years the population at Sorobon was pretty light (May-June); and we do prefer an uncrowded experience. It was also mainly non-English-speaking. There is a polite, warm friendliness even when no conversation is likely to break out. Everyone shares a daily rhythm of lazy beach snoozes; long wades out to the floating dock, with or without snorkel; strolls with the buckets to the ice cube machine; staring at windsurfers; reading selections from a wall of former guests’ books; refilling bowls for bird baths; guessing when to vacate for housekeeping; waiting for flamingo fly-overs, or encounters with iguanas and lizards; sitting in the almost-hot, shallow water’s edge at day’s end being nipped by baby fish; we divers constantly lugging gear back and forth and rinsing it all off; and having to get dressed to leave the resort. It’s all such a wonderful escape...

Some take the 9am grocery shopping trip if they didn’t rent a car. Some sign up for one of two dinners if they don’t cook in. We didn’t experience these. My Dutch next door neighbors spoke a little English and marvelled (or was it scoffed...) that I would actually be willing to cook meals on my vacation. Oh well, there are many rungs on the ladder of luxury. We feel rich to be able to fly there, live nude on the beach, drive around in a car, and dive whenever we want. Someday we’ll feel rich enough to add another small fortune for restaurants...

Last year we splurged at Richard’s. This year Kon-Tiki and Cappriccio gave us delightful meals. Cultimara Supermarket took care of most needs, although the fresh fish was available only at the unmarked window near Richard’s.

Mostly couples stay in the chalets, but there are place settings for four in each kitchen. New-found friends (who brought their whole pantry with them) invited us for dinner. Judi was impressed that she and Doug were actually “entertaining company” for the first time on vacation. They bought delicious desserts from the bakery in Cultimara. It was most cordial. Bob and I took an afternoon off of diving and gave Judi and Doug a guided tour of the dramatic south-eastern shore road. Flamingos were in short supply, alas. The day they decided to rent a car, they spent a good deal of it trying to change their return flights. Apparently they had looked at each other and simultaneously said, “Let’s NOT go home on Saturday!” They didn’t wait a year to have two weeks on Bonaire. They bravely did combat with ALM and then had to spend the night in Miami. All for three more days in paradise!

Continued in part 2