A Dutch Island
It’s the B in the ABC islands, along with Aruba and Curaçao. (Though from left/west to right/east, they’d actually be the ACB islands.) Just 24 miles long and 3 to 7 miles wide, Bonaire is midway between the two others in size and farthest out to sea. That’s under 60 miles off Venezuela’s northern coast. It’s a municipality of the Netherlands. While Dutch is the official language, the lingua franca is Papiamentu, a language soup of Spanish, Dutch, English, Portuguese, French, Caribbean Indian, and various African languages. English and Spanish, however, are also widely spoken and understood.All of Bonaire’s surrounding waters, from the high-tide mark out to a depth of almost 200 feet, are protected by Bonaire National Marine Park. The organization that maintains the parks, STINAPA (Stichting Nationale Parken), charges a fee for all visitors who enter the water, whether snorkeling, swimming, or merely wading along the shore. It also applies to the landlubbers exploring Washington-Slagbaai National Park in the north.
The Wild Side of the Island
So much of Bonaire’s conservation work goes into protecting the waters and reefs, so I was surprised by the amount of protected land it has as well. According to the STINAPA website, Washington-Slagbaai National Park comprises roughly 16 1/2 square miles of ruggedly beautiful terrain—about 17 percent of the island. Much of it is thick with cactus and tenacious brush thriving in what looks like a slice of Arizona.The dirt roads are rough, best suited for four-wheel-drive and mountain bikes. They encircle the park and pass overlooks of brackish lagoons, where I saw large flocks of Caribbean flamingos wading for their meals—decidedly not Arizona. Coming out from the low-lying mountains, I could see the terrain open up a bit along the northern shore, where a long plateau of reef limestone rises above the land. There are places to stop along the coast and watch the rough east and north coast seas rush into the jagged coastline, sending up spray and occasionally spouting through holes in the rock. At one point, I stopped between a large iguana sunning itself high up in a cactus, its spiny back blending in with the needles, and a caracara, a large native falcon, similarly perched across the road, perhaps looking for a meal.
Short spur roads grant access to the shore. Where the road turned south along the western coast, there are a couple of sheltered coves. I swam and snorkeled there, hoping to see one of the four species of sea turtles that return to the park’s beaches to lay their eggs. Boca Slagbaai (Slagbaai Bay) surprised me. A long beach ran alongside a couple of ochre-yellow, red-tiled roof buildings, creating stunning color contrast with the aquamarine sea. A footpath up the seaside ridge leads to a 20-foot jumping-off point into clear waters. Across the road, behind the buildings, were more flamingos in a lagoon. They lifted their heads from the water en masse and eyed me warily when I walked as far as the posted keep-out sign for a better photo.
Sunsets, Sundowners, and Supper
When you have Caribbean downtime, sunsets become your daily moment of zen. On my first night, I admired one from a rooftop bar. A light breeze chased away the day’s heat as I sipped a cocktail with a local cactus and lime liqueur made by Cadushy Distillery (which also produces Rom Rincón and is open for visits). When the horizon faded to embers, I headed downstairs to Zara’s Bonaire for a six-course chef’s tasting menu at the counter and watched the staff do the delicate work of prep and presentation right over the bar.Founder Dutch chef Janos Vermaat put in time as a pastry expert at Michelin-starred restaurants before moving to Bonaire and opening Zara’s in 2023. The restaurant faces SACA, a modern center for the arts, across a central garden space. Above is a towering pergola built of long curving white slats that recall the ocean waves. Besides frequent gallery exhibits, SACA hosts classical music performances in the courtyard.
Little Bonaire
I took a local ferry to “Little Bonaire,” the uninhabited island of Klein Bonaire, tucked into the curve of the western side of the main island. Arawak Indians, known as Caiquetios, first came to the island from what is now Venezuela about 1,000 years ago and were able to live off the resources already here. When Europeans arrived interested in what could be taken, they left this little island bare. In 2020, only 25 adult Sabal palm trees, endemic to the area, existed on the main island. But by 2023, the Klein Bonaire Reforestation Project, a STINAPA project coordinated with Elsmarie Beukenboom, a local birding expert and guide, had planted 1,000 here on Klein Bonaire.I was there on Earth Day 2024 to meet Beukenboom and witness a celebratory planting. Clever closed planters set into the sand provide a protected water source so the young trees are well watered as they grow roots. A row of small trees down the sandy path amid scrub brush are testament to the project’s efforts. The larger palms hint at how the area will change in just a few years. “As the island plant life re-establishes, more birds will come back,” Beukenboom said.
That’s not to say the island is desolate. The white sand beach is gorgeous, sloping into a band of turquoise. The water turns deep blue less than 100 feet out, where the sea bottom angles down into coral and abundant schools of fish. This is a popular spot for snorkelers. But even in the knee-deep shallows, I saw a small sea turtle waving its flippers as it slipped along, unimpressed by the gawking humans watching from above the waves.
Setting Sail
On my final evening, I joined a group onboard an old Turkish gulet, a type of sailing ship that once plied the waters of the Aegean and Mediterranean seas. The sails remained furled and we moved thanks to engine power, skirting the shore with its modest marinas, beaches, and resorts. I sipped Prosecco and enjoyed hors d’oeuvres and small plates while great frigatebirds floated in place above as if perched in the sky. The sun settled into the horizon. To the east, a lighthouse blinked at the southernmost point of the island. Right along the shore, piles of sea salt stood like peaks in a snow-covered mountain range. The white salt briefly turned rosy and then faded into dusk as the boat returned to harbor.If You Go
Pay the STINAPA national park fee online before leaving home to avoid an extra line at the airport. You’ll receive a plastic medallion on arrival. It’s valid for the entire year in which it is purchased.While U.S. citizens don’t need a visa, all nonresidents aged 13 and older must pay a visitor tax of $75 per visit to Bonaire.
Bonaire uses the U.S. dollar for currency.