I am sure people fall and get hurt there as anywhere. I grew up in a tourist destination city and understand the marketing, pricing and social distinctions that are made between tourists and locals.
I just found the concept of "tourist rates" on wheelchairs humorous. Of course I also had this mental image of you driving around Kralendijk with your wife sitting in the wheelchair in the bed of the truck.
I can think of all kinds of dive hotels/resorts that like to use those "like ice when wet" tiles. Neither I nor my torn rotator cuff understand why.
Since Bonaire offers the combination of shore diving along with slippery floors, I'd bet they rank higher than many resort areas in terms of slip-and-fall related injuries. We did find out that DAN only covers the diver while he/she is still in the water. If the injury occurs out of the water, even only 30 seconds out of the water and before the diver has taken off any gear or even the tank, it's not considered a dive-related accident. Fortunately we had trip insurance that did cover the out of pocket expenses in Bonaire and whatever her health insurance didn't pick up when we got back home for her surgery and post-surgery PT. (Of course we were the only witnesses to the incident, so there would have been no way to verify whether she fell before or after she left the water
).
If anything, the tiles are worse in Mexico, where some places sport for marble polished as smooth as glass. I remember falling down badly on hard marble floors three times at the old Fiesta Inn in Cozumel, not sure what it's called today; the floors weren't even wet and I wasn't even drunk at least one of the times. I smashed my shoulder on one fall, conked my head on the floor on another, but at least my ankles were intact. It must be some sadistic game they like to play with the tourists, knowing we can't do anything about it. Or perhaps they get kickbacks from the local hospitals?
The thought did occur to me to ride around with her in the back, but with her being so accident prone, I reconsidered. Besides, the wheelchair we rented must have been a discard from the U.S. after the Korean or Vietnam wars. It was very heavy and didn't fold (good we had a truck handy!), so getting her and it into the truck bed would have been impossible. When we rented one back in the states for her surgical recuperation, I was surprised how light it was. Either that, or I had gotten stronger from lifting the Bonaire one back and forth.
Kudos to Cactus Blue for their wheelchair ramp. I think we also managed to get into Casablanca. Patrice got a ramp out so we could make it into Bistro. Both of Kirk's restaurants have access via a flat path with minimal incline. And after being exiled to Capt. Don's, we ate there a couple nights.
After J's day of hell, going from clinic to hospital, leg still uncasted, the night already grown late by the time I managed to find us a suitable accomodation at Capt. Don's, she couldn't manage the crutches on the long walk to the room. In sympathy, I got down on my hands and knees and was prepared to crawl the long way there with her, but that wasn't working out too well either. Finally, peeking over the gate to where the restaurant stores its stuff, I had an idea. They have great utility carts for bussing tables, moving inventory, etc. I talked to one of the employees, we got a cart, and wheeled her right to the room. I grabbed a couple pizzas from the Pizza Temple along with a couple of their huge schooners of Heini, and food rarely tasted so good.
The next day, the friendly owner of Nos Arkon delivered our wheelchair, but then discovered its tire was flat, took it back, and finally came again later with our wheelchair that served her well enough for the remainder of the week. Luckily everything runs smoothly on a little desert island!
The fun part was when we tried to fly home. Flamingo Airport doesn't have jetways - there's a lot of stairs to navigate to get into the plane. The doc surmised that they might bring her up via the same elevator system they use to get the meal trays in the plane, but they decided to do it the hard way. The two biggest guys on Bonaire, who they apparently keep handy around the airport just for this sort of situation, put her on some sort of chair that neatly slid up the staircase (with the combined efforts of some 600 lbs of muscle). Needless to say, de-planing and boarding the remainder of our flights home was far less exciting.