“Hey Duke, what time is it?” I asked Doug, one of our traveling friends this week. In addition to an interesting assortment of tools and gadgets, he always carries a watch.
“Six fifteen, there Cap,” said Doug. He has called me “Cap” for twenty years. Not sure why. I think it has something to do with Cap Bozo who played tight-end with the Chicago Bears in the eighties. To this day, the nickname perplexes me because I wasn’t a Cap Bozo fan, let a lone a Chicago Bears fan. But, then again, that’s Doug.
We were at the Monday rum punch party sponsored by Bonaire Dive and Adventure. In the past, they have always ended promptly at six o’clock. I walked over to the table and tilted the cooler, using a very unscientific method for determining how much hooch remained.
Seemed like quite a bit.
At about that time, Catherine, who I believe is Andre’s (the owner of BDA) significant other, told me that this was actually the very last Monday night run party by BDA. They weren’t going to do it on a regular basis any more, but only on special occasions. I doubted my visits to the island would rank as a “special occasion,” so the realization that there would be one less rum punch party to attend almost caused me to faint.
I steadied myself, grabbed the cooler, and sloshed it around a little. “There sure is a lot left,” I said. “Hope Andre likes punch.”
Catherine smiled. “Oh, we won’t take it with us. Would you like a doggy bottle?”
“A doggy bottle?” I looked at Leslie, then back at Catherine. “Is that what I think it is?”
“I can fill a bottle for you to take with,” she said. “Otherwise, we will just throw it out.”
“You would throw it out?”
Catherine nodded.
“No, no, no,” I said, shaking my head. “We can’t allow that. That would be as disgusting as...” My voice tailed off as I tried in vain to think of something as bad or gut wrenching as throwing away perfectly good punch.
“How ‘bout... peeing in your wetsuit,” Leslie said with a wink, then emptied her cup.
I looked at her and smiled. “Unless the situation warrants it.”
She nodded. “Unless that.”
Suffice to say that the doggy bottle full of rum punch is resting nicely in our refrigerator.
Our diving began yesterday with a trip down the “south side" to Margate Bay, one of my all time favorite dives. There is very little wind this week, which removes the concern of being run over by a kite boarder.
We saw a small school of barracudas and a turtle. I guess the visibility is running at about 50-60 feet and most places are showing a temperature of 83-84 degrees. The soft corals at Margate Bay are beautiful and they never fail to astound me.
Our next dive yesterday was at Invisibles, with Doug, his wife Nadine, and Smack. Another great dive. We saw a small turtle swimming by, and upon further investigation, realized it was Stumpy. Apparently, he saw us enter and decided to swim over from The Rock and say hello. We were happy to see him.
On our way in from the reef, we came across a large southern stingray feeding in the shallows. He didn’t seem bothered by us and we watched for a good long time. He would just slowly move back and forth, stop every so often, and wiggle some unfortunate prey out of the sand. If you’re a stingray, this must be a pretty fruitful place to eat because he was still going at it when we finally moved on. I’m sure he would recommend it.
We finished our dives yesterday with a dive on Bari, coming out of the water just in time to attend the aforementioned final rum and punch party. Hurts every time I say it...
Dinner last night was at the Sunset Bar & Grill next to SandDollar. Less and I had burgers and fries, which were awesome, and Doug and Nadine both had red snapper, each prepared a different way. They said the food was good.
Pat, the manager took good care of us, and Kirk, the owner, stopped by a couple of times to make sure everything was to our liking. We plan to dine there again sometime before boarding flight 664 a week from Saturday. Now that really hurts to say.
Today, Les and I rose early and dove the northern end of Bari, making it all the way to the dock at Buddy Dive before turning around. Sorry, but I can’t divulge where we went into the water in order to do this. I guess I could, but then, I’d have to... well, it’s best if I just don’t say.
Smack stopped by and took all of us down to the WannaDive Windsock location to dive that reef. Nice reef and super easy access. Rumor had it that there were some seahorses out there, but based on our search, I can only confirm the rumor -- no sign of any seahorses.
Leslie got to work her magic when we came across a small squadron of squid. They peer into her full face mask even as she snaps shot after shot. She is definitely an accomplished Squid Whisperer.
After a lunch at KFC, we headed up to Weber’s Joy/Witch’s Hut. A bit of surf, but no broken bones or bloody knees. A good dive and a great way to finish off another glorious day in Paradise.
Smack ran off to the Tex-Mex buffet at WannaDive Hut, and Doug and Nadine are on a night dive. Les and I decided to chill out a little, or “chalax” as our daughter Beth would say, and have a few Brights. If we get really ambitious, a little later, we might whip up some soup and grill cheese sandwiches. Les is working on downloading her pictures and wants to give me a private slide show. I can’t wait.
In the meantime, I’ll unwind a little on the deck and think about how lucky I am to be on Bonaire, knowing how badly all of you would like to be here with us, even if it meant you’d have to do all the Amstel runs -- for the entire week!
Right now, some cheese and crackers sounds good -- there’s some Gouda in the fridge. But wait, what’s the sound?
I think I hear a nicely chilled doggy bottle calling my name...
Dive on Friends.
Dave & Leslie.
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By Dave Goodwin * (Experienced BonaireTalker - Post #658) on Tuesday, August 10, 2010 - 11:03 pm: 
Pix of the doggy bottle PLEASE!!! 