Bonaire

Diving here is self-organised rather than scheduled. Most visitors collect a pickup truck with a tank rack on arrival, swap cylinders at their shop's rack, and then run their own timetable along the leeward road, stopping wherever the day suggests. Three or four dives is an ordinary total, and a dusk entry followed by a night dive costs nothing more than a second drive. Guides are available and boats run to the sites the road cannot reach, but the default here is a buddy pair planning its own profile.

What changes along the leeward coast is the entry and the pitch of the slope rather than the basic shape. Sites north of town tip over steeply almost at once, the stretch along Kralendijk is gentler and easier to walk into, and several southern sites sit behind long shallow flats with a second, deeper reef further out. Entries range from sand to sharp ironshore, so footwear and a plan for climbing back out matter more than current does. The windward east coast is rarely diveable at all.

A few things are particular to the island. The freighter Hilma Hooker lies on her side in the sand between two reef slopes and is reached from the roadside like any other site; she went down in 1984 after being impounded in a drug case, and accounts differ on how deliberate the sinking was. Klein Bonaire, the uninhabited islet across the channel, has no road access, so its sites stay off the self-drive circuit. Salt Pier is closed to divers whenever a ship is alongside, which is worth checking before driving south.

It rewards divers who want to be responsible for their own dive. Photographers get unhurried bottom time and a slope full of small subjects, instructors get calm water for training, and mixed-ability groups can share an entry then split by depth. Anyone hoping for big-animal encounters or wall drama will find it understated. A vehicle is close to mandatory, and every diver pays a marine park nature fee before getting in the water, so budget for both alongside the accommodation.