Dancing down memory lane...

Yesterday my son Paul, his lady Sarah and my webmaster Patty drove Bonaire's northern road. We found the overlook to which I used to drive the Hotel Volkswagen (my camper van) after finishing the day's dives and putting the divers into the hotel. When I used to wake up in the mornings (1969-72) I would be surrounded by foraging goats, who watched attentively as I made my coffee. Here's the view:

After the drive, I went with them and Leslie Leaney of the Historical Diving Society to the cemetery. Leslie had tracked down the resting place of one of Hans Hass's divers:

The grave was untended, so Leslie cleaned it up as best he good and we took another picture:

Today he is going out to the small island of Klein Bonaire, looking for the camp site Hass used in 1939.

Between dives, there are always Iggy, Ziggy and the other professional beggars looking for handouts. The little guys are everywhere, and they love melon and watermelon!

I have to go South and see the sea-salt evaporation ponds with their flamingos, to see if they have changed at all. I suspect not. There is a quarter-million tons of salt down there in huge hills, gleaming in the sun. I may go home and dig out the photos from the old days for comparison.

More to come as the adventure continues!

Mother always said there'd be days like this...

Yesterday was a sensational day--a deep blue sky for the drive from Escalante and a perfect afternoon for an initial foray into the park. I should have known that Mother Nature was luring me in.

Filled with confidence after that afternoon, I decided to undertake the arduous 70-mile circuit up to Cathedral Valley. That was my main target when I set up the trip.

So, the Toyota and I took off for the river ford--oh, did I forget to tell you that you have to cross the river to get to the North? Must have slipped my mind.

All went well for a couple of hours. The light was brilliant at the South Cathedral Valley overlook.

Alas, then the clouds roared in, the rains came, and I drove fifty miles of rutted, bouncy, rocky, treacherously twisting roads and took nary a picture. Well, when I got back to my starting point a bit of late afternoon sun bathed the hills above the park entrance--just to mock me. Grrrrr. Note the sky in the image below compared to the one above, taken this morning.



Of course, after that unintended 'scouting mission' I know where all the Cathedral Valley formations are now, so I can just do the whole thing again tomorrow or Sunday.

Of course, when I turn the car toward the river, she is going to look at me with those big, soulful headlights and roll over dead.