Get an ELF – no, not the Santa kind.
Bonaire is known as the “Diver's Paradise”. I, myself, have never partaken of this aspect of the paradise (darn you, small Eustachian tubes!), but my husband is now a diving connoisseur – and when I say connoisseur, I mean every snooty, look-down-your-nose-at-anything-less-than-amazing part of it.
After about 50 or so dives here on the island, he would only go diving if it meant dangerous, 8-foot-high-wave, rock-climbing entrances - places where no sane person ever dove. In his words, diving on the tranquil west coast side (the side that has coined the “Diver’s Paradise” phrase) was just too ‘easy’.
That was before the Lionfish.
Linofish are actually gorgeous fish (I’ve seen them live at the Georgia Aquarium! Well, and dead on my counter…). Unfortunately, however, they are mean little buggers. They eat all of the good, reef-cleaning fish, proliferate by the thousands, with no native predators (as they, themselves, are not native), and to top it all off, have very poisonous quills which discourage any potential predators (humans included). Thus, the Marine Park here, STINAPA, has begun a Lionfish termination program, providing free air and ELF’s (Eliminate LionFish – basically a miniature spear gun) to local divers who are willing to round up as many Lionfish as possible.
It was like diving was reinvented to my McDreamy. Not only was he able to participate in diving for free (as we already had the gear), but he suddenly had a will to live…I mean dive.
With his diving flame reignited, he now goes, giddy as a school-boy, with his other ELF-wielding comrades, trying to nab the biggest, fattest Lionfish. Once they’ve rounded up a sizeable amount of fish, we all gather (wives and kids, too!) and barbeque them up. They are all so proud of their ability to truly ‘provide dinner’ - sharing stories of how each fish was speared, beheaded, or otherwise exterminated in their diving process. They boast of their stinging stories, exaggerating the number of stinging quills, the amount of swelling, while obviously understating the amount of pain felt, and mocking those not ‘manly’ enough to experience a Lionfish sting.
So, even if you are not blessed to dive, as in my case, get an ELF for your husband. It will create many yummy dinners, and many fond memories.
Just make sure those ‘manly’ men clean the fish – being a woman you have no gender-based requirement to be a part of the ‘stung’ club.
Bonaire is known as the “Diver's Paradise”. I, myself, have never partaken of this aspect of the paradise (darn you, small Eustachian tubes!), but my husband is now a diving connoisseur – and when I say connoisseur, I mean every snooty, look-down-your-nose-at-anything-less-than-amazing part of it.
After about 50 or so dives here on the island, he would only go diving if it meant dangerous, 8-foot-high-wave, rock-climbing entrances - places where no sane person ever dove. In his words, diving on the tranquil west coast side (the side that has coined the “Diver’s Paradise” phrase) was just too ‘easy’.
That was before the Lionfish.
Linofish are actually gorgeous fish (I’ve seen them live at the Georgia Aquarium! Well, and dead on my counter…). Unfortunately, however, they are mean little buggers. They eat all of the good, reef-cleaning fish, proliferate by the thousands, with no native predators (as they, themselves, are not native), and to top it all off, have very poisonous quills which discourage any potential predators (humans included). Thus, the Marine Park here, STINAPA, has begun a Lionfish termination program, providing free air and ELF’s (Eliminate LionFish – basically a miniature spear gun) to local divers who are willing to round up as many Lionfish as possible.
It was like diving was reinvented to my McDreamy. Not only was he able to participate in diving for free (as we already had the gear), but he suddenly had a will to live…I mean dive.
With his diving flame reignited, he now goes, giddy as a school-boy, with his other ELF-wielding comrades, trying to nab the biggest, fattest Lionfish. Once they’ve rounded up a sizeable amount of fish, we all gather (wives and kids, too!) and barbeque them up. They are all so proud of their ability to truly ‘provide dinner’ - sharing stories of how each fish was speared, beheaded, or otherwise exterminated in their diving process. They boast of their stinging stories, exaggerating the number of stinging quills, the amount of swelling, while obviously understating the amount of pain felt, and mocking those not ‘manly’ enough to experience a Lionfish sting.
So, even if you are not blessed to dive, as in my case, get an ELF for your husband. It will create many yummy dinners, and many fond memories.
Just make sure those ‘manly’ men clean the fish – being a woman you have no gender-based requirement to be a part of the ‘stung’ club.
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