Bonaire Cliff in ’23 and ’24

Many people would not think of Cliff for snorkeling. I didn’t, but my guide on my first visit in 2023 suggested a quick snorkel that paid off.

There’s a nice pier at Cliff that makes water entry decent. You do have to descend about 6 wide stairs behind a dive shop, or use a ladder by Hamlet Oasis.

Cliff gets its name from a steep underwater drop-off not too far from the shore. Historically, this was a nice wall of corals. In 2023, I could see some of what appealed to divers. The left edge of the picture is probably 20 ft deep and falling rapidly toward the right.

The first time I was at Cliff, I hadn’t yet discovered weights and freediving, so pictures took much more effort to get. Diving down, I captured this stovepipe sponge in the middle of some lobed star coral and a diverse bunch of sea plumes and rods. There’s a school of chromis in the distance (brown with one blue chromis).

I saw my first barracuda, which was intimidating! I’ve since seen them much more frequently and am better about not being intimidated, although I do give them their space. I suspect when they are in shallow waters, they tend to be active and on the hunt, as opposed to in deeper pier areas where they hang motionless in the gloom.

There was a lovely elkhorn coral, surrounded by fields of fire coral. Fire coral is so named because its polyps have specialized “stinging” polyps containing nematocysts, which release a fun little neurotoxin (sarcasm font). Yet another reason to not touch the coral. Here a ubiquitous Princess parrotfish searches for a bite under the elkhorn.

There were some nice sized and healthy brain corals here. Here I was chasing down a shy grouper, so they weren’t the main focus of my picture. That’s unfortunate, as this was pre-SCTLD.

There was also a lot of lobed star coral. They seem to prefer slightly deeper waters, and I’d guess I’m around 12-15 feet. The grunt hiding in the shadows is a fish that is around 6-8 inches, which helps provide size reference for this large outcropping.

I found my first honeycomb cowfish. No mystery how it got it’s name.

in 2023, I also saw one of the only sea cucumbers I’ve ever seen on Bonaire. I don’t know if it is generally inhospitable environment, or there is a trade in them. In Maui, legal and illegal human over-harvesting is a significant problem, so you don’t see many large ones. This one is huge (the 2 inch sharpnose puffer above the coral helps provide size reference), so I wonder if it is more a local environment issue.

CLIFF IN 2024 was a different kettle of fish. Or coral. Actually, less fish, with damaged and dying coral.

Upon entry, I immediately headed to the left, toward a large fire-coral reef. What a difference a year makes! Once again, I was faced with a 17-19 mph wind conditions, which weren’t awful but did cut down visibility. Here’s a dead brain coral foreground to bare reef.

I chased this butterflyfish pair for a bit, trying to get a shot with both of them in it. I was dismayed to see the disease spots on the rightmost one. This picture also shows the condition of the fire and mustard coral, two species that seemed indestructible to me. To the left is some lovely colored fire coral, getting paler and more diseased towards the right. You can see the mustard coral, the small mustard-yellow round bumps on the bottom left and bottom right. They also seem like they are everywhere, but are clearly suffering here. Usually they form a solid ball like mass. You can see the white dead stuff surrounding these two.

I was following this honeycomb cowfish who decided to hide under an overhang (as they do). I didn’t zoom in, because I think this is another one of those that shows the reef condition. Washed out fire corals on top and an absence of life around it.

I did find a small cluster of orange cup coral, which cheered me up.

Here’s a few ‘littles’ (juvie damsel, gobies) in some very bleached out but alive fire coral, and a bleached but healthier star coral. Notice the color on the coral is deeper as the depth increases.

I always try to capture fun shots of the fish I see. I thought this Queen parrotfish looked like it was talking to the damsel. Undoubtedly the damselfish, known for being highly territorial, was saying, “piss off, pal!”

I also found a very large, very dark-patterned doctorfish, very striking with tiger-like stripes. I don’t usually see them this dark.

I was excited to find a lettuce nudibranch. I haven’t found them very often in the Caribbean.

I did a swim over the drop-off as I was following an eagle ray, my first ever! It was very focused on feeding. Initially I followed far behind, having no idea how timid it may or may not be. It seemed to display no concern about me (I credit my whale shark pattern rashguard set from Waterlust), as well as the fact that I was about 15 feet above it, so gradually I relaxed enough to focus on getting good pictures (not just any picture). It would swim for about 25-50 yards, then do a turn, then head in a new direction. I got this shot on one of the turns. Isn’t that vertical eye amazing?

The ray preferred the depths, eventually leading me over the slope down to the deep. I tried to take heart from the percent of green-colored coral down there. Maybe even as high as 30%, which, you know, isn’t 0%. So there was that.

Still, a somewhat sad outing. I tried to take hope from the fact that some varieties were surviving, but I am afraid I am just documenting a slow death.

Bonaire 2023. Andrea I and II

I will be forever grateful to Nicole and Galen at Tropicalsnorkeling.com for putting together detailed snorkel guides. I used their ebook on Bonaire to help me narrow down the 86 official dive and snorkel sites. Andrea I and II were on my priority list, and ended up being so much fun, and so beautiful, that I returned here a number of times on multiple trips.

This is me in the light blue water on the left! You can see limestone and dead reef at shore edge. The darker blue near shore is the coral and rock shelf, then there’s a sandy area, showing light blue, and then the deep dark blue.

Andrea has a very long iron shore (thus the division into Andrea I and II), with a narrow band of finely ground stone/sand slightly inland from the iron shore. It also has a thick patch of bushes behind the sandy area, hiding numerous expensive villas and maintaining the illusion of a quiet public beach.

There are a couple of yellow markers showing you the best spots to enter the water for minimal coral damage (the sea urchins don’t listen to this, though, so still be careful).

Snorkeling was amazing. There were many hard corals, some soft corals, and a wide variety of fishes. There’s a large shelf near shore filled with corals, then patch reefs in a mid-ground, about 8-10 feet deep, then a field of plumes and boulders as you hit the slope and diver depths.

Here you can see the edge of the shore shelf reef and start of the patch reefs, filled with healthy boulder coral (the round greenish ones), slightly stressed but plentiful fire corals, a trumpet fish and grouper, a school of chromis (far left), a tall sponge (bottom right).

A patch reef with a trumpet fish, a four-eye butterfly (bottom right), a grouper (bottom left), boulder coral, a brain coral and a sponge.

Purple bipinnate sea plumes with likely Atlantic sea plumes behind, with a hardly visible Caesar grunt in the background.

There was an area by Andrea that had extremely friendly fishes. I was guessing someone was feeding them because they had zero fear. I actually think I saw the same angelfish pair the next couple of years, and have dubbed them ‘Bob and Helen,’ because they seem to be a self appointed welcoming committee.

Bob the angelfish stopped by on 80% of my snorkels at Andrea I for the next two years. He usually has Helen in tow, but she tends to hang back a bit.

Filefish tend to be shy, so it was an utter surprise to have this scrawled filefish come so close. That’s when I started to wonder about feeding.

Andrea had some great corals! Here’s a giant brain coral with some fire and boulder corals alongside.

A beautiful, large pink starlet coral

Pillar coral. Endangered.

Some weirdo brain coral with star coral at the bottom. I am guessing that wave action might have affected growth pattern, but it might have been a virus or mutation.

Orange cup coral. Never very plentiful, you can see small patches like this that look like innie belly buttons. They open up at night and look like tiny anenomes.

It also gave me a chance to work on my macro photography. WordPress isn’t being kind to my high-definition star coral, but you should get the idea.

Brain coral detail.

Staghorn coral. Staghorn used to play a pivotal reef-building role around Bonaire, but legend says heavy storms and hurricanes (although we don’t normally think of Bonaire in the hurricane belt) resulted in significant mortality that has never recovered. So it was kind of thrill to see some healthy-ish patches in 10-12 feet deep water.

Patches meant I could get close without touching other coral, since there was empty sea floor around me. Much easier for photography when I don’t have to worry about bumping into coral! You can see tiny little polyps extended on the white nodules.

Here’s a sea fan next to a diseased star coral. Sea fans are a type of soft coral in the Gorgonian genus. They are communal coral polyps arranged in flat groups, each contributing to secreting gorgonian proteins to build the internal structure they all live on. Some Gorgonians use calcium in their structure, so like all coral species, ocean acidification is a serious threat (further interesting detail at Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History).

Detail of the fan

A cool bell sponge! Sponges are cool, and confusing to identify. They come in so many shapes. One of the earliest multicellular animals, they have a few specialized cells for feeding, reproducing and structural support. Water flows through many pores and canals to allow it to trap food (find more info at wikipedia). I have learned that identification is tricky even for professionals, and in some cases, requires lab equipment to accurately identify. Still, a few are obvious, like this bell sponge.

And there were some fish! The three stooges giving me the side-eye (just kidding, blue tangs).

I followed a honeycomb cowfish and got to watch it change colors as it moved from plumes to corals to sea bottom. Pretty clear where it gets the honeycomb name. You can just see the tiny horns above its eye.

Soapfish aren’t the smartest fish in the tank, and apparently assume that if they can’t see you, you can’t see them. Here’s one in some fire coral. I thought it was hilarious.

There were a LOT of damselfish. We won’t even talk about how many shots it took to catch this one in some staghorn coral. Damselfish are highly territorial, particularly when they are guarding eggs, and will harass other fish/ animals/ humans. Some of them are known for grooming tiny patches of algae ‘farms’ and will protect those as well.

Oh, and everyone’s favorite, it seems. A turtle! I think they are definitely cool, but as someone who has had pet turtles in the past, I’ll also note they aren’t the sharpest tool in the drawer. They mainly eat, sleep, and breathe so watching them is an exercise in Zen meditation. I also saw so many in Maui that I got used to them. Still, they have such interesting shell patterns.

Bonaire 2023. 1000 Steps

My first time on Bonaire, I decided to hire a local guide. I had some ideas where to go, but what I wanted was someone who knew the ocean landscape: currents, depths, wildlife, and maybe even biology. Our first stop was a water retention pond in town known for flamingos. The marina is across the street here. It’s hard to get close, because there are mud flats leading up to the water area.

When you ask people where to go in Bonaire, they will almost universally recommend 1000 Steps. There aren’t really 1000 steps; the story goes that it just feels like it after a long dive and when carrying scuba gear. Lucky for me, it was only a bag of snorkel gear. Beautiful-Bonaire has a picture that captures the access.

Because it is so recommended and has a sandy apron making water entrance easy, it is extremely crowded. Below are people starting to park along the road on the approach, as the small parking area is easily overwhelmed.

You can also see how delightfully narrow that road is. Technically, it is two way, but past this point it becomes one-way, committing the driver to a long route through Rincon and around the eastern side of the island back to Kralendijik.

I enjoyed our snorkel, but it was too deep for me to really love it (picture below is ranging from 15-20 feet or so). Still, it was amazing in the diversity and the size of corals (note this is 2023). Boulder corals (big green ones), huge brain corals (center picture), sea fans (in front of brain coral), a Gorgonian (tall, left side and branched, front corner), stovepipe sponges and fire coral all show a wide diversity. Some have a lovely deep color, others look a little too light; perhaps signs of recovery after heat stress the prior summer.

This was before I discovered weights and freediving, and had to rely on my own skills to keep me at depth. Below is a nice patch of diversity, about 12 feet or so.

However, even doing duck diving, I still managed to find a cute little lettuce nudibranch on some dead staghorn coral. You can see the healthy stuff with the nobbies above it.

This is also where I saw my first schools of blue chromis, a gorgeous little fish that prefers deeper waters.

It was also my first glimpse of an extensive staghorn field. I am told that there used to be acres of staghorn until a hurricane/weather event in the mid 2010s broke much of it up. These coral patches act the same way a grove of trees between farm fields do–they offer protection from predators and a concentration of sea life that allows for easier feeding, along with potential nesting sites, as many fish eggs need something to attach to.

But this was only the first dive stop. On to Cliff!