Nature Island Divers, Jungle Bay Resort, Dominica, BWI

Dear Fellow Diver,

After a clumsy giant stride off the Nature Island Divers catamaran, I drifted down to 90 feet in clear 82-degree water at the edge of a submerged volcanic crater. Following the divemaster, I began a gradual upward spiral around the Scott's Head Pinnacle, its near-vertical pillar covered with colorful corals, tube sponges, sea fans, and wire corals. Sunlight penetrating the clear water produced bright and sometimes iridescent colors on the pinnacle. I was awed by a school of large barracuda that surrounded me, and as I rounded the pinnacle, a huge school of horse-eyed jacks warily eyed me from just feet away. Farther along, swarms of Creole wrasse and blue tangs fluttered past, and in the crevices, I spotted lobsters, anemones hosting tiny shrimp, and cleaning stations crewed by yellow wrasses. As I wound upward, an octopus scooted between crevices and a large green turtle ambled past. Near the surface, a large pelagic darted past so fast I couldn't tell if it was a mackerel or a wahoo. After an hour underwater, my fellow divers and I raved about this world-class Caribbean dive.

Mountainous, rainforest-clad Dominica is perhaps the most beautiful Caribbean island. Unlike most others, it sports few beaches, mostly modest hotels, sometimes cloudy weather, and no nonstop air service. It's only blemish: the cruise ships. It's been called the Nature Island, carefully protected by its government and citizens long before ecotourism became a buzzword.

Diving here is different. Nature Island Divers' operation is in the caldera of a dormant volcano, with signs of volcanic activity scattered around the island, such as hot water springs, bubbles rising from the seafloor in several places, hot water dives, a hot water spa of sorts, and several fuming craters.

The informal Nature Island dive shop is just what you might expect on such an undeveloped island, with its sideline of lionfish jewelry and other souvenirs, a kitchen selling lionfish burgers (it has been said that to render a wild animal extinct just make it a popular food) as well as snacks, beer, and booze. Their backyard doubles as a place to enjoy your burger and rinse and store your gear while snoozing dogs keep an open eye on you.

Personable owner Simon Walsh, who has been active in Dominica environmental preservation for more than 30 years, is a jack of all trades who solves any issues with a smile and even led dives on the big boat. He's speared thousands of lionfish over the years and counts his 61 stings as badges of honor. Divers can join his hunts as one in our group did and returned with several stings, trophies one might say, since he jabbed the second largest (16.5 inches) lionfish ever nailed by Simon's divers. After soaking the punctures in hot water, he was back at it the next day. Nature Island also fights Stony Coral Tissue Loss Disease by applying antibiotic paste on affected coral heads.

Their primary boat is a 40+ foot canopied aluminum catamaran with twin 150 hp outboards. It had plenty of space for gear, a wide ladder, roomy benches, and cylinder racks. Twenty of my group's divers rode that boat, while six of us "experienced" divers were relegated to a fill-in 25-foot aluminum mono-hull with a sunshade canopy, single outboard. The ladder was so short that the deepest rung was at mid-chest height; getting a foothold and pulling myself up was tough, especially since the hand grip was a hanging rope. A single diver on the ladder tipped the boat so much that water flooded in, forcing the driver to stand on the opposite side to prevent it from swamping. So, the driver couldn't lend a hand to boarding divers. Most of my dives were with Kimmie and Erika, who I found perfect for pointing out macro critters and liberal for allowing freedom of diving. Their only request was not to go much deeper than they and stay within sight.

There is no shore diving, and snorkeling is by boat. All 20-plus dive sites in the Soufriere Scott's head Marine Preserve have permanent buoys within 10-15 minutes.

About a mile from Soufriere, it's a winding drive 900 feet up Mount Acouma to the Jungle Bay Eco-Resort, widely rated as one of the top eco-resorts in the Caribbean. I concur. Seventy comfortable air-conditioned jungle villas are scattered around what was once a lime plantation supplying the British Navy (Limeys, as they were called) to prevent scurvy. Most cottages are duplexes constructed of handsome hardwood and equipped with AC (which we didn't need as April temperatures were 78°F nights and 82°F days with frequent short rain showers), two large beds, a huge private shower open to the outside, daily room cleaning, and laundry service. I never saw a mosquito, though a few curious geckos eyed me. Manicured paths lined with birds of paradise and bougainvillea crisscrossed the property, with endless hummingbirds darting from flower to flower. At the resort's edge, the horizon pools overlooked the 900-foot drop to Soufriere Bay, with spectacular views.

At the base of this mountain is a great dive, the L'Abym (the abyss), which demonstrates the diversity of these reefs as it is geologically different from the Pinnacles. After we moored 50 feet from the cliff, I dropped to a shallow plateau in minimal current, then over the wall to 70 feet with 100-foot visibility. The wall is covered with colorful hard and soft corals and tube sponges. After kicking along the wall, I rose gradually to 40 feet, where the dark volcanic sand was interspersed with volcanic rocks covered with corals and sponges. The sand was alive with garden eels, feather duster worms, yellow-headed jawfish, peacock flounders, an active octopus, and even an unusual flying gurnard. Fleets of Creole wrasse streamed along with blue tangs. Feisty sergeant majors and damselfish guarded their nests on almost every coral head. Huge barrel sponges were everywhere. Squat anemone shrimp found homes in blue and pink-tipped anemones. I also saw several spiny lobsters, a clinging crab under a rock, a slipper lobster, and neck crabs hiding in the crevices. Crinoids extended out from coral heads, and I spotted several bearded fireworms and magnificent feather duster worms. My unique finds were a hidden yellow frogfish and a dark brown seahorse. I surfaced within sight of the dive shop dock and a couple of hundred yards horizontally from the Jungle Bay Resort, 900 feet up!

On our only night dive, I saw lots of wandering octopuses and open basket stars. If I stayed in one spot long, the krill attracted to my light were so numerous I could hardly see anything, a measure, I guess, of a very vibrant reef ecology.

On one dive, I was poking along flat sand at 30 feet and spotted a half-buried electric ray. Slowly approaching, I got too close while filming the gill movement and felt a strange sensation, and quickly, I was on my back in a cloud of stirred-up sand. It had zapped me! I'd never experienced anything like it before. Their electrical discharge makes your muscles involuntarily contract and can knock beachcombers on their butts if they step on one. You bet I got a little scolding from Erika.

I'd begin my day in the early morning, as the daylight crept over the mountain, with a stroll down to the open-air dining room to join others for coffee, to marvel at rainbows arching over Scott's Head Peninsula, and chat about what the day might bring. At 7:30, the extensive buffet opened for pancakes, scrambled eggs, typical American fare, and unusual local vegetarian items, as well as fish Creole casseroles, jungle juices, and fruits.

At 8:15, vans left for the five-minute trip down the hairpin turns to the dive shop. I'd find my hanging wetsuit in the back of the dive shop, slip it on, and go to my boat, where my gear sat waiting by my tank. One morning before our dive, I walked down the beach in my wetsuit for a soak in a bubbling volcanic hot spring. (On a previous trip with a different dive operator, we dug a hole in the beach and buried a Dutch oven with chicken and vegetables, which cooked while we were off diving.) Across the street is the old, beautiful St. Mark's Catholic Church. The front door was open, and though dressed in my wetsuit, I couldn't resist having a peek inside since no one was around. I couldn't see anything in the dim light, so I stepped into the apse, squinted in the dim light, and let my eyes adjust. Oh my god: A coffin with a body on a gurney in the middle of the aisle! And a Catholic priest in full regalia standing just five feet away in the dimness. His jaw dropped as he stared at me, dressed in a wetsuit and booties. "Excuse me," I murmured and hurried back to the dive shop as fast as my booties would carry me.

After a 10-15 minute run to a mooring buoy, we'd soon be in the water for our first one-hour dive. Jungle Bay provided snacks such as tacos or cookies. Then back to shore for an hour's surface interval and off for another hour's dive. Afterward, Jungle Bay provided simple sandwiches, chicken salad, and chips for a picnic lunch in the dive shop's back courtyard; I'd shoot the breeze and maybe nap in a chair before the afternoon dive. Afterward, the staff handled all the gear but cameras and wetsuits, and once I took care of that, I had a few minutes to walk across the street to Wee Fees' beach bar for a cold Kubuli beer. Three for $10! Not a bad way to end a day's diving.

Back at the hotel, we'd gather late afternoon to socialize, soak in the pool and hot tub, and watch the sunset (several divers claimed to see elusive green flashes). The view from the poolside is stunning, including parts of the Soufriere volcano's crater with its westward side open to the sea, Scott's Head peninsula, and the towns of Soufriere and Scott's Head.

When ready, we'd mosey into the large, open-air dining room for their extensive, well-prepared buffet dinner. One night the menu would be Jamaican, another would be a local theme, and another night might be American (hamburgers). They offered a nice salad bar, freshly baked bread, pastries, at least two entries, and desserts. After an hour or two of post-dinner socializing, I'd amble back to my cottage along lighted pathways over several hundred yards.

Laura Eli, Jungle Bay's general manager, could swiftly handle room service needs, dietary requests, or call you a golf cart and porter to lug your stuff up and down the hotel's trails. The entire staff paid great attention to details. They have traditionally served travelers who want to escape their stresses, meditate, practice yoga, hike the jungle trails, and bathe in the hot and cold streams in the volcanic highlands. Divers have only recently become a significant part of their clientele, and they did well for us.

As one would expect, Jungle Bay Resort scored high with its recycling policies, water use, organic insect repellants, and general environmentally friendly policies. As did Nature Island Divers, which only used dive site buoys (no free-anchoring), four-stroke outboards, reusable water bottles, no plastic or only multi-use plastic, and held briefings emphasizing reef-friendly diving and environmental situational awareness.

Having been to a dozen or more Caribbean Islands, I think diving here was tops. I visited more than a dozen sites during the week -- e.g., Scott's Head Dropoff, Dangle Ben's, Crater's Edge, Pointe Guignard, Swiss Cheese, Soldierfish Cave -- and each was spectacular in its own way. Near L'Abym, local fishermen may use traditional methods; they lash a few logs together to create a small raft, which they paddle out and fish with a hand line. As we were leaving this site, someone yelled, "Look out, stop, cut the motor!" A fisherman's anchor rope was caught on our boat's outboard motor, and we were dragging him along as if he were riding a wakeboard! After untangling him, the captain apologized with a smile.

Perhaps the most well know Dominican dive site is Champagne, where you can hear a rumbling deep down and watch bubbles drift up from the shallows. While everyone wants to dive it, Nature Island seldom does, and for good reason. As one divemaster explained, the surface is covered with clouds of Lycra-covered cruise ship snorkelers and a traffic jam of boats. We left it to the masses.

But the cruise ship masses so far haven't left much of a footprint on the whole of Dominica, nor have the fishermen affected the reefs. The people of Dominica must be congratulated for putting the environment first. It's a beautiful island filled with surprises, the diving was first rate, the resort superb, and while a bit pricey, it was worth every penny. Give it a go.

-- D.D.

Our undercover author's bio: The author is a master diver and has been diving for more than 30 years, making 1600 dives around the world. Retired from rebreather and technical diving, he is a DAN undersea referral physician and has written several pieces for Undercurrent.

Divers Compass: Diving, single occupancy hotel, all food, a 10% VAT and 15% employee gratuity, was $3200 . . . . You get a one-half-hour massage (or other treatment) in their Zen-like spa and are welcome to attend their regular Yoga classes . . . Wine is only $7 a glass . . . No nitrox is available . . . . Rental equipment is available . . . Two free-diving platforms sit 200 yards off the dock, and free-diving instructors can teach you . . . the U.S. dollar is accepted everywhere . . . . The language, culture, and history are British, French, and Creole, and the locals amicable . . . . There's a recompression chamber at the Princess Margaret Hospital in Roseau . . . . Nature Island Divers website: natureislanddive@gmail.com . . . . The resort can book the diving. https://www.junglebaydominica.com/dominica-dive-packages.