Basura: Thoughts on Death in Bonaire, not in Venice

Mrs. B and I spent the month of February on Bonaire.  It is an island country, in the neighborhood of Aruba and Curacao.  Bonaire was a Dutch colony for many years, then gained its independence.  And then, recently, realigned itself with The Netherlands.  English, Dutch, Spanish, and Papiemento are spoken, but one gets along fine with just English.  The American dollar is the standard currency.  Bonaire is known for its stellar diving and snorkeling.

Cactus abounds throughout the island.  Feral goats and donkeys roam.  Iguanas large and small are plentiful.  Coconut palms sway in the constant breezes that gave the island its name.  Board sailors and kite boarders find the trade winds favorable to their activities.  Bonaire exports mountains of sea salt.  Flat areas south of the main town of Kralendijk are flooded with sea water by opening a channel to the Caribbean.  The channel is closed, the sun does its evaporative work, and then the salt is collected and shipped out on ocean going freighters.  The piers by the Cargill salt works are great places to snorkel.  It is permitted when no ships are present, which is usually.

I snorkeled most days.  I saw barracudas, turtles, red lipped blennies, four eyed butterfly fish, brown chromis, octopus, tarpon, palometas, moray eels, sergeant majors, bonefish, needlefish, trunkfish, balloonfish, cornetsfish, trumpetfish, yellowfin, groupers, French angelfish, queen angelfish — and lots more.

The rental car was a truck.  Typical in Bonaire are small pickups, with two rows of seats.  They have good ground clearance to drive around the rough roads, and racks in the back for those that are hauling scuba gear.  Many are of Chinese manufacture; mine was a Wingle.  When was the last time you operated a standard transmission?  (Motorcyclists need not apply).  If not for trips to Bonaire, I’ve been shiftless this century.

We made the acquaintance of a couple that stayed at our little eight-unit resort.  They were friendly and outgoing; we found that we had areas of common interest.  They struck me as a couple that were very happy with each other.  He was in his 60s, she was younger.  Then he died snorkeling.  She was devastated, of course.  She cried until she thought she’d cried every tear.  And then she cried more.  She isolated herself in her room.  She had paperwork to do, arrangements to make, and a great deal of grieving to do.

“I didn’t want to ruin other people’s vacations by being so sad,” she told me.  Eventually, she started to go outside her room and talk.  She’d cry.  Then apologize for crying, not wanting to disrupt people’s trip.  We’d all try to reassure her that sadness was normal.  Sometimes we’d be crying too.

The death was ruled accidental.  No autopsy was performed, so it wasn’t determined whether there were complicating issues, such as heart attack or stroke or a seizure when he was in the water.  She was told that the body would not be able to fly back on a regularly scheduled commercial flight.  He would have to be flown first to The Netherlands, at which point the authorities would release him to be flown back to the U.S.  Another option might be a charter flight.  This she did.

She had arranged for a funeral in their hometown on a Wednesday.  The charter flight was to be on the preceding Friday.  As it turned out, there were bureaucratic delays, I was told, and that she flew back on the charter – but without him.  I hope that the body made it back for the funeral, but as yet don’t know that this occurred.

Mrs. Basura said if such a thing happened to me, she would have me cremated on the island, and the ashes would be given to the sea.  That seemed not an option in this case, though; a funeral and conventional burial were wanted.  I don’t know if he got home in time for his service.  I do hope but in any case that the funeral provided some level of comfort to her.  She is a very good person.

We did have a wonderful month on the beautiful island.  If we were able to provide some small level of support to a fellow traveler, then we feel grateful to have been of some service.