On the Edge of World, Looking Up

 Live Aboard Scuba Diving on the Great Barrier Reef and the SS Yongala Wreck

I’m standing five feet above a smooth dark sea, the moon glistens off dimple waves, and all I hear are whispers of the Pacific against our boat’s hull.  I put my regulator in my mouth, wink at the dive master, and stride into the black water, my eyes fixed on the giant moon the whole time.   Glowing needlefish dart away as I strike the surface, and return timidly to have a look.  A quick chill goes up my spine as I float in the darkness; my third dive since sunset feels the coldest.  I signal to my buddy to jump in, he does and we drop to the sandy bottom at 50 feet, using the moon to orient towards Wheeler Reef.  As we sit on the bottom and look around, five or six small white tip sharks start circling us, building up their confidence and getting closer, then skirting away when we give them a quick jab.  Once they go back to the shadows we continue toward the reef, adrenaline pumping in our veins, waiting for bigger animals to appear.  And they do.

Here is where the South Pacific Sea crashes against thousands of miles of corals, an untouched habitat few visitors to the Great Barrier Reef actually see.  I am on a five-day live aboard adventure 100 miles off the coast of Queensland, near the edge of the world’s largest barrier reef.    The shallow waters of the reef basin drop off hundreds of feet into another realm, where large pelagic fish, mammals and other creatures lurk.  This is the sea of giants.  Great hammer heads, bull sharks, nine-foot groupers, humpbacks and minke whales— all kinds of giants. 

After a stormy steam out to the reef the night before, I awoke and looked out of the small oval window in my cabin, over a smooth, stunning sea.  The angry ocean that had claimed so many partially digested dinners the night before must have been appeased by the vomitous offerings. 

Tasseled wobbegong

I grin as I think over the trip, and the regulator in my mouth bubbles over my face.  Suddenly, only feet in front of me, a seven-foot-long guitarfish swims slowly by, not giving me any notice.  Big grey reef sharks come next, staying barely beyond the range of my torch, swimming slowly and seeming to shoot us a sinister stare.  My buddy Condo and I exchange freighted glances at each other as the sharks drift away, staying just beyond the range of our flashlights.   

I mentally make another tally on my list of awesome things experienced on this live-aboard escape—swim with big reef sharks at night. Check.  Other tallies include; night dive, wreck dive, drift dive, deep dive, wall dive, cave dive.  Whew.

The bar for the trip started off ridiculously high, with the wreck of the S.S. Yongala being the first stop.  The wreck claimed 122 lives when it sunk in a typhoon in 1911.  Fifty years later the wreck was found by fishermen, and now is regarded as one of the best dives in Australia.  Twenty years ago human bones and skulls could be seen in the wreck.  An eerie and surreal aura still hangs over this fallen vessel. 

On the Yongala you feel like you are Mario and you just went down a green tube into Jumbo Fish World—everything is massive.  Common reef fish like coral trout and Maori wrasses are transformed, twice as large as I have seen them elsewhere.  But the best example of the Mario Bros syndrome is seen in VW.  VW is a Queensland grouper the size of a VW Bus. Literally. The fish hulks along the bow of the ship, his eyes bigger than my head. 

                  After the Yongala we were sold.  Wherever Captain Stewy wanted to go, we were there.  We saw cuttlefish at Unnamed Reef #18103 (which we later named The Big Top, based on its shape).  We tore quickly along Marty’s Magic Mile, a drift dive where their was no use fighting the current to check out a napping sea turtle.  So you just have to go with it.  It was always a challenge to top the previous day’s diving, yet somehow Stewy always did.  The days rushed by, spent diving, diving, diving, then food, beer, and talk of diving. 

Earlier, before jumping in the water for my final dive of the trip, Stewy barbequed fresh coral trout, small mouth nanagai, and gold trevelli.  Most people were done diving for the trip, fully satisfied by the voyage.  But a few of us wanted one last dive, so we waited on drinking beer, and mentally prepared for our last dive, which ended up starting close to midnight.   

Now here I am at Wheeler Reef, shining my torch at yet another species of shark.  This one is a tasseled wobbegong, and it thinks it’s invisible in its disguise.  The fish looks somewhat like a welcome mat, just more colorful.  We get close and snap some photos, and it never flinches.   

As we swim further into the structures of the reef, the moonlight makes the seafloor glow silver, in between black hunks of slumbering reef.  An octopus creeps slowly out of a crevice, colors dashing across his skin like a scene from Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’.  I flash my torch over at my buddy, frustratingly trying to get his attention.  The octopus gives me one more burst of color, then slinks back into its crevice, and disappears.  My buddy finally looks back a second too late, I shrug my shoulders and we continue.

                   When we are deep into the labyrinth of corridors and that form the reef, my buddy and I decide to turn out the lights we each hold. 

At first we are overwhelmed by a bleak and all encompassing darkness.  Seconds later our eyes adjust and a silver beauty comes into focus.  The light is ample to see each other’s grinning faces.  We leave the lights out and sit on the silvery sand.  This is what it is about.  It is for moments like this that we should live, moments that will last forever in our mind. But this one is different.  There is no adrenaline accompanying it like after seeing a big shark. No, all I feel is calm.  I breathe on my regulator and listen to the sound it makes.  I listen to the sound of the reef, the clicks and ticks and taps it plays.  I feel the pressure on my chest.  I think about my last five days on the Coral Sea, and Captain Stewy, and how he has shown me the reef he had spent his life exploring. 

After sitting in the dark for a few minutes and watching bioluminescent organisms have a micro space fight, we turn our lights back on and begin back toward the boat.  

Check out http://www.kalinda.com.au/ for information on Captain Stewy's incredible charter service!