Crunch Time

Final data collection is this week, that means that by Friday I need to have written my scientific paper, run all the statistical analyses, created my tables and figures, completed my results and discussion section and synthesized it all into an easy to understand presentation to be presented to the public on Tuesday.

I am going to breathe easy on Saturday.


With really only a month left here on Bonaire, I've been thinking about all the things I've gotten to do, and the things I still have left on my list. I still have to go windsurfing, I still have to jump off the dock fully clothed during the dive shop's weekly rum punch party, I still need to finish our video tribute to Jacques Cousteau/Steve Zissou, I have yet to log my prerequisite 60 dives for Divemaster, I still have to go camping on Klein Bonaire, I still have to get nitrox certified, I want to take another epic bike trip and I still manage to feel pale here. It is crunch time indeed.

Which is more attractive to juvenile fish: availability of food or the complexity of habitat in the mangroves of Bonaire, NA?

Eight weeks in to my stay here in Bonaire, and I don't think I've ever actually explained what it is I'm doing here, besides loving life. I am doing an independent research project to see what attracts juvenile fish to the mangrove forest, whether it is food or shelter, and which fish are using the mangroves of Bonaire. I first learned of the importance of mangroves during my senior year of high school living in Okinawa. After a few trips up north to kayak and explore, I really connected with this amazing habitat- they are like the wellspring of life for the reefs that we love so much. Fish are drawn to these areas because (typically) they are calm waters, safe from predators. These forests act as a buffer against storm surges, and we may have learned a few hard lessons after the tsunami in Thailand about the importance of keeping these areas undeveloped. Not only do they attract a lot of really cool reef fish, but there are crabs that live on the prop roots, and birds, so many birds. I am not the biggest fan of birds and I credit my mother for that intense dislike.

My project has three different stages, the first was doing some initial biodiversity surveys to track algae and fish living in and around the prop roots. Next I set up cages around the roots in the water to exclude herbivores from feeding on the algae, and I will be monitoring what can grow on the roots without herbivores. The final stage involves making a series of artificial mangrove prop roots out of garden hose to monitor which fish are attracted to the physical structure of the mangroves.


I'll put up a condensed version of my results after I present them, but for all its simplicity, there is more to scientific research than I had anticipated. It's going really well though, and I'm really loving the work - I think at this point you really have to. I definitely have a few good stories from all my time out there though, sunburns, hydroid stings, jellyfish stings, horsefly bites, pretty standard stuff.

A tribute to Bonaire hair

I have achieved Bonaire hair.
Bonaire hair means having salty, windswept, sun bleached, unmanageable hair. I also happen to think that it is the mark of a real local, a status symbol that says "I am more than a tourist." I spend my days under the sun snorkeling mangroves, going on flamingo watching trips, doing beach clean ups. I sit in the back of pick up trucks and look out on the world, I have freckles that I haven't seen since I was 6 years old and I can grab a mosquito out of the air. I can handle being stung on the lip by a hydroid, or being ankle deep in the salinas mud, and I am beyond sun burns. I don't shower, I crawl out from the sea and try to untangle my mask from the gnarled hair, shake out some of the water and keep moving. This is what scientific research is all about. I might look like a mess, but I'm proud and I've earned it.

These are a few of my favorite things

It has come to my attention that a great many people think I am losing touch with reality living over here in a big, beautiful house, with all our meals delivered, blue skies and crystal waters, and I don't mean to gloat but that's just life on Bonaire. But there are a few realities to living here that I may have glossed over in my account of what it's like here. The persistent cat calls from the construction workers behind our house, the constant smell of wet laundry (as nothing ever really dries on the line), not being able to take a hot shower after spending the whole day in your wetsuit, sharing the same colds with the same 6 people, the roof leaks whenever it rains, and it rains whenever you want to do laundry, receiving mail can take over a month and skype seems to fail, having to wear bugspray indoors and out, or having your towel stolen off the line. But on the whole, the pros beat out the cons, and I love being here, I love living here, and it's going to take some convincing to leave this behind. I love being able to jump off the dock after class or in the middle of the night, and sneaking into resorts on the weekend to use their pool, and being able to bike anywhere I want, I love that a field trip here means going caving or camping on the beach, I love that this whole island is just teeming with life, I love having mangled conversations in Papiamentu, I love cruising in the dive truck and the view from the back, I love that going to lab means you get to see spotted eagle rays, hawksbill turtles, reef squid, goldentail moray eels, common octopi, and huge rainbow parrotfish in the same day, I love that I am tan and that I earned it, I love that doing research may possibly entail windsurfing, I love going into town and seeing people I recognize, I love being able to hear music from downtown drift all the way to our house on weekends, and I love my housemates/classmates - cramped quarters and a lot of togetherness has lead to some decent bonding, I love being able to take naps on the roof under the sun, I love little adventures to climb Bonaire's tallest peak or scrambling around the cliffs, I love going out to the mangroves to do my research (though I am less than fond of the sunburn, jellyfish stings and horsefly bites I get as a result) and I love learning more about this place everyday. And on that note here are a few of the things I love about this place:

From Sunrise to Sunset

It’s 3 o clock in the afternoon and I’m lying under the shade of a thatched pavilion trying to squeeze in a midday power nap. We’re in the city of Rincon for their children’s Karnaval parade, and have been waiting on the sidewalk for an hour for it to start, they are on Bonaire time; the street food has been a welcome distraction though, pumpkin pancakes and meat pies. Karnaval is a 2 week festival here in Bonaire, comparable to Carneval, Carnivale, Fasching, Mardi Gras, etc. People are lined up on the streets waiting for the parade to start, and the students of CIEE are trying to be patient, but we’re running on very little sleep.

We woke up at 5 this morning so that we could travel to the north end of the island for a nature hike at sunrise. After a late night, 5 o’clock came much too soon for us and the drive up is silent as we all doze off in the van. We get to Rincon at the foot of the mountain, they call it a mountain anyway, and we begin our hike still under the cover of dark and quietly we trudge. Our trail leads us up the side of the mountain where we can look out across the valley and see the scattered kunukus (family farms) and past the valley, the ocean. As we continue we come to a road that leads into a village that established themselves at the top of this mountain hundreds of years ago, the road is lined with the all too familiar cacti of Bonaire, but as the sun is rising the tropical birds are starting to stir and fly off; a flock of parakeets flies out of the brush right in front of us. We hear more about the vegetation and geology of the island and we continue walking towards the ocean until we reach Karpata, one of our favorite sites on the cliffs on that side of the island. We stop here for breakfast, baracoba (bananas), watermelon and bran muffins. Sitting on the cliffs, banana in hand it was a very good morning. We finished up and drove back into Rincon to tour a cultural museum, a typical Bonairean house from the 1950s that had been preserved as it was – the cistern for well water in the kitchen, the handmade furniture. Then we headed back to the van to drive back to Kralendijk to crash.

With a solid 2 hour nap and a quick lunch, we drove back up to Rincon for the parade. We stake out our section on the sidewalk under the pavilion across the street from a little bar where Caribbean music plays while we wait and some people dance on the sidewalk. We cam prepared with little bottles of bubbles, which are honestly one of the cheapest forms of entertainment out there, I just don’t think people get too old for bubbles. But our patience wanes and our attention spans drift in and out, when we run ionto some of our friends from Kralendijk who tell us that the parade doesn’t actually pass in front of this pavilion, and we run down the street to where the parade will go through, beginning to hear the loud music and sounds of the parade starting. The kids in the parade are adorable and have pretty nice costumes for a local parade, dancing and singing their way through the streets of Rincon.

We finish the day where all good days should end, a swim in the sea. Some of our friends from the dive shop had invited us to a barbecue after the parade, so we leave Rincon and (unknowingly) head down a one way road past Karpata to another site on the cliffs. We make it there fine, running on a fear/adrenaline high from driving the twisting road in the wrong direction. As soon as we’re out of the car we jump into the ocean, with only a brief hello to our friends, soon joined by their dogs. Sometimes it’s nice to go for a swim just for fun, not to collect water samples or take underwater video transects, just go out and swim. We catch the sunset as we get out of the water and head for the van once again. We don’t stay long, but it’s the best possible ending to such a long day. That, and I had a fish taco waiting for me at home, and I do so love fish tacos.

p.s. As it was 5 o'clock in the morning my brain wasn't in order, so I forgot my camera during the hike, but click here to see more pictures.

A Sunday Well Spent

I wake up to the sounds of Gibi, our cook, delivering brunch at 10. We get the quintessential Dutch breakfast spread, sliced meat and cheese, fresh fruit and fresh bread. It's still raining outside, the rain hasn't stopped all weekend, (making my Saturday laundry plans more difficult to line dry my clothes) some of the roads in the park reserve have been washed out. But around noon the sky clears up and we can resume our weekend plans: biking across the island. I had bought a bike here from a previous student before I even got here, so my bike was waiting for me; this is ironic because I spent the last 3 months in Minnesota without one. So the few of us that have bikes have been itching to take them out for more than just beach cruising and grocery shopping; we plan to bike to the other side of the island, the Wild Side. Our house is on the eastern side of the island, protected from the winds. The western side is called the Wild Side, as it gets all the wind; it isn't a very good place to snorkel or dive, but it is the windsurfing capitol of the Caribbean. We set out for Lagun, an inlet on the Wild Side, and the site of the first Bonaireans.

Our route takes us out of Kralendijk, the main town, away from cruise boat tourists and dive shops and into the more rural Bonaire. We ride through residential areas, and see the real Bonaire, people in their yards hanging laundry, cooking outdoors, waxing their boats, all as Caribbean music drifts in and out of houses down the street.

We ride further away from the houses into more rural areas, passing goats and donkeys on the side of the road, all the while, the blue whiptail lizards dart around our bike wheels. I try to snap a few pictures, but riding and taking pictures is harder than it sounds, and I don't really want to stop.

We ride over a few hills, past a few family farms, and into a cactus covered landscape, when out of nowhere we pass a castle. Someone has built a castle on Bonaire, and probably declared themself king, though I don't know the story, I just know that we stopped to take a picture with it.

We ride on, past the landfill, past some windmills and finally into the mud flats for which Lagun is named. It turns out that the lagoon is all mostly mud now, and there really isn't much trace of any ancient civilization so we head to the coast. We ride out there, and the as you look out across the water there are these coral cliffs that are just getting slammed by the waves, we hike up the cliffs for a bit and look out at the water for a while, taking it in. My camera died standing on the overlook, but I still got in a few pictures.

Then we got back on the bikes for the long haul back, though with the wind at our back this time, we made much better time. We made it back to the house smelly and sweaty, and decided the best way to end the day would be to jump off the pier at our dive shop. We drop the bikes off and head over to the pier, run off the end of it into the water and into the rain. It's raining again. After a day on a bike, floating in the ocean is just about as good as it gets. Click here to see my other pictures from this trip.

Exam Day

Today I am a rescue diver. For the past two weeks, our class has been working non-stop to 1) finish advanced open water training, 2) get our First Aid, CPR and emergency oxygen certifications, and 3) finish rescue diver training. All of this makes me a highly qualified recreational diver, and gets me thinking about going on to get divemaster, diving at a professional level. In order to get advanced certification, you have to complete so many dives including: a deep dive, a night dive, a boat dive, a peak performance buoyancy dive, and a navigation dive - all of which were great dives! Yesterday we finished the rescue skills, which entailed working through various scenarios on the beach. Yesterday a cruise ship made port, meaning we had an audience of tourists watching as we dragged each other out of the water, rescued panicked divers, practiced CPR, towing tired divers to shore, putting pressure on gushing wounds, calling out for help, etc. I'm sure we freaked out more than a few tourists, before explaining that we were all in training. This certification is kind of a big deal for me, and I almost wish I had done these things earlier on.

But it wasn't these certifications that have had me stressing for the past week, it's been the fish, coral, algae and invertebrate identifications. Bonaire has great biodiversity, it's amazing really; this means that there are a ton of species to see and to memorize. We do this mostly above water, but can ask questions during our dives using underwater slates. The reason we work so hard to learn the names is because soon, we'll start doing biodiversity surveys for the marine park, and start our own independent research projects - but also because it makes diving so much more fun, because you know what you're looking at. Needless to say, the effort has totally been worth it, and I can now identify about 100 different species with some degree of confidence. It's always a good feeling to know what you're doing out there.

Before I left, I did a little preliminary research on the Bonaire; honestly, I had never heard of this island until Ilooked at the study abroad catalog. All I kept reading about the weather was that it was hot and windy, but still humid. I think it's safe to say at this point in my trip, that Bonaire must be having an unusually rainy rainy season, as it has rained sporadically throughout the day for the past week. When I visited Saipan, snf I guess Hawaii for that matter, we would get a light, quick shower around noon nearly everyday, and in Okinawa it could rain heavy non-stop for days. To clarify, this rain is not like those, these are heavy like the rains of Okinawa, but only last about as long as the ones in Saipan. And they usually happen just as we're getting out of the water. But sometimes we do get those light midday showers when the sun is still shining and they just make me so happy; sunny rain has got to be my favorite weather.

A few weeks before I came to Bonaire I was talking to one of my friends and I was telling him how jazzed I was about getting to come down here and spend 15 weeks in the water, diving in some of the best waters in the world, when he asked me if I ever thought I would get sick of diving. I just don't see that happening anytime soon.

In a 3D Classroom

It's Saturday morning in Bonaire, around the world people are sleeping in, and living on Bonaire, I am no exception; however, sleeping in here meant staying in bed until 9. After 7 days, 7 dives and 4 hours and 40 minutes underwater, the first week is over. It hasn't taken me long to find the rhythm of this place, and while everyone else operates on island time, our program is moving at the speed of sound. The sun comes up at 7, I stir awake around 8, eat some breakfast and walk across the street for class at 8:30. We spend about 3 and 1/2 hours in class learning fish, coral, algae and invertebrate names, as well as getting certified in DAN Oxygen, Emergency First Responder, First Aid and CPR pending exams on Monday. Then we spend about 3 hours in the water, the 3D classroom; first wriggling into our wetsuits and wrestling with heavy tanks and gear, and then finally reaching the water, sweet relief. It's a crazy sensation, it's like you have no limits, not only are you breathing underwater but you are also swimming over this landscape that is totally different than anything on land, I feel like I'm flying.

It's like no school I've ever been to; our classroom is alive with coral and fish and organisms too small to see. Underwater, there's no talking and when our instructor tries to show us something, she shakes a rattle and we swim over coming from every possible direction. I was thinking about this yesterday when we practiced peak performance buoyancy and had to move in different ways underwater i.e. upside down, and I just kept thinking about how that would not fly in any lecture hall, people moving around, above and below each other.

The night dive was incredible, we had dove this spot before and could navigate through it, but like a familiar street at night, everything looks different without light. It didn't feel real, swimming along the edge of the reef, illuminated by the glow of our flashlights. Flashlights underwater! Each person became just a spot of light in the dark. We could only see what was in front of us, disorienting at times but strangely peaceful, the quiet dark. At one point we all turned our lights off to see the bioluminescent plankton, flashing like fireflies.

But today is Saturday and I should be out on my bike cruising for a beach. I'll wait until after lunch, I'm much better suited to island time.

The Worthless Island

Today we got our first look at the rest of the island, what the Spanish called the “worthless island.” Bonaire is made of fossilized coral, so crops couldn’t really be grown here, and there isn’t much for natural resources, hence the “worthless” reputation, but from what I saw and did today, this place has a lot going for it. The Dutch took over the island in the 1600s for its natural salt mines, all of which was harvested by slave labor of course. There are 6 major villages on the island, and we drove through most of them today, stopping in Rincon for a Bonairean lunch of fresh fish and goat stew (I have extended my vegetarian policy to include fish for this trip, as it is all done on a pretty small, sustainable scale- I don't think I'll be extending it to include goat or iguana though). This island is just teeming with life; today alone we saw wild donkeys, wild goats, flamingoes, blue whiptailed lizards, iguanas, and many birds that I will have to learn the names for.

A few photos of our venture:
This first picture is of the blue whiptailed lizard, which are really pretty. In the 5 minutes we were standing there though, there must have been at least 15 of them crawling around.

The third picture is of the view from the peak, you can see that while it's not very lush, it is very green, and the water is bright blue.

This statue of Mary is the highest point on Bonaire, on top of the mountain. Kralendijk is about 1 meter above sea level, and the peak of this mountain is at about 750.

Next is the picture of a giant agave plant and some cacti, both of which we saw over and over around the island.

The last picture is of the slave huts where the slaves from Rincon would stay while they worked the salt flats in Kralendijk.

See the rest of the tour here

Arrival

The weather had taken a turn for the worse in Panama City, temperatures were in the 20s.My dad woke me up at 4:10 a.m., not giving me the chance to test out my new alarm, which was set for 4:15. Still dark out, I'm glad my bags are packed and ready to go, it's too early to think. I'm on the plane by 5:30, after I say goodbye to my parents yet again, and I make it to Atlanta by 7:30 EST. The 4 hour flight to Bonaire is 4 hours too long for me, and I'm antsy the whole time, that and I had the window seat, which is not ideal if you have a bladder the size of a walnut... As I get off the plane, I feel that familiar hot, humid air again, and dig through my bag for my sunglasses. I think I may have even gotten some sun just standing in line for customs. The CIEE interns are at the gate waiting for me, and we stop by the grocery store first so I can pick up the Dutch equivalent of Apple Jacks and some Parmalat box milk for breakfast the next day. As we're driving through "downtown" Kralendijk, I feel like we're going down main street at Disneyland, all the buildings are so colorful they don't seem real. We get to the house, and it is just as cool, a Caribbean style building. They show me around and I start to move in. We eat dinner at 5, brought to us by our own chef?! Yes, we have our meals delivered by a chef, and they are delectable. After a brief orientation to the program, we head out to town, and sample the night life but right now all I want to do is fall asleep as I have now been awake for 20 hours. Tomorrow we go exploring!

Preparations

I have always liked packing for trips, it gets me thinking about where I'm going and what I'll be doing. And I'm pretty notorious for underpacking and overpacking at the wrong times. That always reminds me of the millionaire and his wife and Ginger from Gilligan's Island - if they were only going on a 3 hour cruise, why is it that they brought so much stuff?!

To get ready for this trip, I was faced with the ever-popular proverbial deserted island quandry. While Bonaire is not quite the deserted island in the middle of the ocean, I still had to consider the airline weight allowance. So what do you bring to a small island with limited resources? Despite my considerable experience in packing suitcases, I struggled a little bit. Bringing my SCUBA gear was a given, mask, snorkel, fins, brand-new wetsuit, BCD, boots, etc. After packing and re-packing the rest of my gear my final weigh-in for 2 checked bags for my 3 1/2 month adventure was 70 pounds; I'm feeling good about it. So what 5 books did I bring to this deserted isle? I hate to disappoint, but to save on space I didn't bring any except The Message, which I feel is a decent choice. And I haven't had any moments of panic where I realize that I forgot crucial item X. Yet.

A few thoughts on Minnesota

With only two weeks before my departure for warmer waters, I may be premature in starting my travel blog. Having spent these last two weeks with my family in Florida, I thought this would be the perfect time to reflect on what I’m leaving behind this coming semester, so indulge me, a few thoughts on Minnesota.

Outside my apartment window is a plot of quaking aspen trees, there must be a hundred of them. I have been keeping an eye on these trees since August, watching them grow, seeing a visible passing of time. They were late to change color compared to most of the trees around here, but when the time came, these trees in their neat rows burst into gold altogether. The other trees started to lose their leaves, littered the ground; the aspen held theirs for quite a while. In early November overnight, collectively the trees decided it was time for winter and dropped all of their leaves, though this may have to do with the wind more than a conscious decision on behalf of the trees. And I miss those bright gold leaves.

There is also something truly beautiful about walking home on a chilly night, when the field leading to my apartment is absolutely still; it's too cold for the grasshoppers, and everything else is quiet save for the passing car. The sky is lit up by the glow of streetlights, a haze of a heavy sky full of snow for the next day.

I’m trying to remember the beautiful things, but the last time I looked out my window I saw snow being swept over the field by a driving wind, and I have no desire to be close to that, trying to avoid the icy patches on the sidewalk, hoping to get where I’m going without a major spill on the hidden ice. These are things not quite as beautiful, and will not be missed. I was not cut out for a Minnesota winter.