Today was a day to travel to southern side of the island. We intended to do a swoop along the southern rim and end up at a bay that was mainly a Mecca for sailboarders but we had been told about an exceptional reef there too. Our intent was snorkeling there. There was also a recommended authentic restaurant for lunch where we could get the fabled iguana soup or goat stew.
We decided to consume our remaining delicious mangoes in our room and have only coffee at the apartment's bar (it's called The Dive Hut). 
Soon we were speeding helmetlessly, beyond good sense, past the airport, past some very attractive snorkeling beaches, toward the salt processing industry. The ocean was on our right and the immense rectangular ponds of curing salt were on the left. There were no trees and LOTS of wind. And every time a car or truck passed us, we were stung by flying salt. It was a pretty long loop with a threat of more of the same for a long time. After reaching the spot where it appeared that salt must be loaded on ships, we turned around and head toward plan B: the cross-island cut off.
On this route we were headed directly into the wind, which was a little easier for scooter handling. It also took us past the donkey reserve.
Donkeys are an island pest. Left on the island to breed on their own decades ago, their only role seems to be eating people's plants and creating a road hazard. We met the proprietor of the reserve and she immediately snapped into the stereotype of what we think of as a crazy cat lady. She was a crazy donkey lady. She loved them to pieces and shared with us all her best stories of rescue and anthropomorphism. We were weeping in minutes. Well, not really, but it was hard not to part with a mere seven dollars each to spend some time with them and help this lady and others like her to provide food for over 400 donkeys.
The reserve contains most of the donkeys on the island. Another 100-150 still roam free but eventually they are captured and brought to the reserve where the males are castrated and wounded donkeys receive veterinary care. There were plenty of opportunities to donate more. Mary bought souvenirs and I put an extra dollar in a bin that showed a painting of a donkey eating dollar signs.
They allowed us to take the scooter on the dirt path that traversed their vast grounds. By the end, I was convinced that they really had 400 donkeys there. I was doubtful at first but every one of them b-lined for the scooter all along the route. Another fundraising scheme is to buy carrots to feed them. Woe to he who stops. I had wrestle our lunch bag out of the mouth of one of them. But I must say, the little ones especially are adorable.
We escaped and soon arrived at the eastern bay or "Loc Bay". It is geologically unique to the island and also encompasses a mangrove swamp. A reef blocks in the bay so the waters are calm on the lee side but a strong wind always blows.
We were hungry so we decided to try to find "Mikey's Snacks". Our directions were a bit vague and signage is poor or non-existent. Anyway, I turned down the wrong road. It was rough and long but had some great scenery, including some relatively close flamingoes. We finally stopped at a kayak adventure place to ask directions. Yep. Should have turned one street farther down. He did help us by selling us our water recreation passes. Bonaire Charles $ 10 per person who does any kind of water recreation and this pays for clean up and preservation. It is good for a year and we were happy to pay it. Especially after we heard there is a steep fine for being caught in the water without one.
By this time, we were so hot and we were dying to get into the water. So we backtracked but instead of getting lunch, we drove back around to the other side of the bay to find the snorkel spot. We had packed a back up lunch consisting of a sandwich made from last night's Swiss leftovers and some tortilla chip crumbs and we scarfed that along with our reserve of water.
We had been directed to go to the beach near this resort and then walk about 10-20 minutes to the place where we could snorkel and enjoy some pristine shallow reefs. It was not clear to us where exactly we should go so I went into the resort to ask. The woman I encountered at the desk had an American accent but when I said "snorkeling", she looked at me like I was crazy. (It is a rather funny word.) She told me it is too shallow to snorkel here. Nobody snorkels here. It is highly discouraged. She encouraged me to check out the beach, which we did but it was very unclear where to go from there. No direction looked like you could walk 10-20 minutes and get somewhere else.
Three strikes. We kept thinking about the sure thing... those beaches we passed by the airport. Roland had mentioned that he thought they were some of the best. Windsock was the name that stuck in our head.
We backtracked, past the donkey reserve. Mary took a turn at driving the scooter since it was a long straight line and she would not have to deal with cornering with a passenger right out of the gate.
We arrived at one unnamed beach and the snorkeling was pretty good. Unfortunately i inhaled some seawater right off the bat and it caused me great discomfort and breathing anxiety. Mary was having a great day with her equipment. We saw a couple of fish varieties as yet unseen by us and some really large and unusual banks of coral.
After an hour, we scooter end on and Lund the beach called Windsock. It had a shady place to park and there were other snorkelers here; a good sign. Again, excellent snorkeling with several varieties of coral and all the fish. I'd recovered from my seawater gargle so I was much more comfortable. I love how the sea floor is littered with dead coral chunks that look like bones. I kept imagining an alien autopsy dumping ground. We were both really enjoying this spot and despite the plan deviation, we felt it was a good day with new experiences.
We returned to he apartment in time to shower off all the dried salt residue and drift over o the Dive Hut for the "Thai Dinner Night" we had signed up for. The story told to us was that the was this Thai woman who liked to cook for them every two weeks. We didn't see anyone in the kitchen who cold pass for Thai and the food was not like any Thai restaurant I'd been to before. There was a meatball appetizer that had some coconut in it and a spicy sauce to dip it in. It was pretty good. Then the dinner plate came out. Chopped up chicken and broccoli, a pile of white rice, an undressed salad and a chive omelet. Tasty but it had no name and did not seem very authentic to us.
We retired to the room, waiting for my over-full stomach to adjust and then at 9:00 we hopped back on the scooter one more time to check out a recommended ice cream joint. It was homemade gelato and was quite delicious.
When we jumped back on the scooter to go home, it would not start. The electric starter turned over and over but it would not catch. A friendly, young local man passing by said to kick start it. I had no tried that before but I could see it would need to be up on the kickstand to do it. The man helped me to put it on the stand and then gave it one sharp kick and it came to life. He gave me a fist bump and we zipped home for another good night's sleep.
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