After getting my fill of urban exploring in Sydney and Melbourne, it was time to experience a bit more of Australia’s natural wonders. First things first, a flight from southeast to northeast. On the final descent into Cairns, that’s Cans for my fellow “r”-pronouncing countrymen, I was reminded of two years prior, flying down into Rio de Janeiro. Rainforest covered mountains running right into a sparkling, jagged coastline. Only this time, instead of murky waters offshore, turquoise hues broken up by long sections of reef filled my view. It was beautiful, and made me all the more excited to not only experience a new environment, but also get up close and personal with something I’ve known about and wrote on bucket lists since I was a child.
I have to say, the Great Barrier Reef lived up to the hype. I’d snorkeled before in Hawaii and off the coast of Catalina Island, so I knew what to expect to some extent, and was cautiously optimistic I’d be blown away, but had not gotten my hopes up too awful much. Jumping off the boat an hour or so offshore from Cairns, the tepid water was filled with light, but there wasn’t much to see. I could tell the water was deep, and I started to regret not taking the Scuba lessons. A few flipper kicks later, I came upon a giant wall of bright colored coral, and as I skimmed over top, I was immersed in a frenzy. Fish of all shapes, sizes, colors, and mannerisms were darting left and right, munching away at the smorgasbord of coral like it was their last meal. In all my previous snorkeling experiences, I’d find a fish I thought was interesting and try to follow it around for a few minutes. None of this was necessary. With every turn of my head, I watched new, bigger, brighter, and goofier fish getting their brunch on. Sensory overload was in full effect. The only time things slowed down was when I found an open spot in the reef, where the sandy surface was somewhat barren 30 feet below. It was then that from the bottom, a majestic sea turtle made a beeline toward me. I watched him gracefully make his way up to the surface, an arm’s length from my face, just to grab a bit of air before returning down into the depths, continuing on his merry way. What a life.
While the fish and Mr. Turtle were the stars of the show, I was enthralled with the coral itself. The colors. The textures. The shapes. I was living a television show, my goggles the camera, my lungs the director. Scenes were cut off only when I was forced to come up for air after diving down into the chaos. There were giant psychedelic clams the size of a small fridge, contracting like a Venus flytrap when anything came in its vicinity. There was brain coral, branch coral, boulder coral, tabletop coral, and they all came in different shapes, sizes, and colors. Bright colors. Fluorescents I thought only existed under a black light.
As we continued out to the second reef of the day, for some reason I thought it’d be a good idea to look for sharks. Round 1 was unsuccessful. I’d more or less given up when I found myself in a similar environment to when I’d met Mr. Turtle. I turned my head in a new direction to catch a glimpse of an ominous, bigger than expected, shark. I can’t lie, I puckered. Why was I looking for this creature, again? After seeing 2 other, far smaller, reef sharks, I learned that I’d seen an aptly named Great Reef Shark. A rare sighting, and not something I ever need to see in that environment again. My stinger suit wasn’t going to do much to stop an oncoming Great Reefy (Australians and their abbreviations). Thankfully, it was gone as quickly as it appeared, off to startle some other snorkeler. While majestic, the Great Reefy was terrifying. For all the beauty contained within the reef, and Australia for that matter, there’s just as much that can poison, sting, or take a chunk out of you. Hopefully I can continue doing my best to avoid getting too up close and personal with the beastly side of Australian beauty.
I think I’ll stick with Mr. Turtle.
