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Snorkeling on the Great Barrier Reef

23 Thursday May 2019

Posted by in Amanda, Australia, Cairns

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Floating in the water over coral stacks around 20 feet tall watching a cloud of tiny blue and orange fish darting around my hands, I forget what it took to get here. All I can think of is how mesmerizing this view is, I want to remember it clearly. The sun has been in and out, and when it strikes the water, the fish and the coral are illuminated. Fish are sparks of color on the mossy brown coral.

I enjoy snorkeling, any chance to snorkel is a treat, and we’ve seen some wonderful underwater scenery here and there. For that reason, Australia’s Great Barrier Reef (GBR), is an iconic place we’ve decided to visit. There are hundreds of boats that go out to the reef, and many different ways to have a look. Non-swimmers can ride glass-bottom boats or semi-submersible watercraft. Families can visit a large pontoon that provides a place for kids to jump in and splash around. Divers can explore deep places. We chose to go with a group based in Port Douglas, Wavelength, that provides a snorkeling trip to Opal Reef. The company is owned and operated by a marine biologist based in Port Douglas, and all the on-board staff are marine biologists.

We had an early start to a long day, leaving home at 7 am for Port Douglas, arriving before 8 am. With about 40 of us aboard, the boat left port at 8:15 or so, driving out across the water so fast that waves broke against the windows while the boat rocked and pitched. It was impossible to walk across the room without clinging to the rails. During this, the staff gave us orientation briefings and described what we’d be seeing, calm as though these were everyday conditions–I guess they are. The boat finally stopped and anchored, yet we saw nothing around us other than a slight change in the color of the water and breaking waves a few hundred yards away. This was the reef. It’s not like snorkeling around the edge of an island, there’s nothing above the surface.

Amanda and Jim arrived in Australia on Sunday–we saved this adventure for their visit so that Amanda could use her skills as a marine biologist to point things out to us. They were among the first into the water. We suited up and flopped in, taking pool noodles for a little extra support.

Under the water, we could see coral of all kinds. Some has been bleached by warming seas, as much as 40% at the first site we visited. The effect is disconcerting. Dead coral is either white or brilliant, neon colors. Living coral is green and brown. If you visited the Great Barrier Reef twenty years ago, it might make you sad to return.

Our second stop along Opal Reef was more typical of a living reef, with 10% or less dead coral, and impressive outcrops of flat “table” coral. Water currents keep this section a bit cooler than other areas, thus the lacy, flat corals have survived.

At our last stop, we saw stacks of coral. Huge boulders are solid corals that could be thousands of years old. Smaller corals grow along the sides of the oldest corals, and on top of them, and gradually the stacks grow larger and larger. The shapes are wonderfully complex, and thronged by fish from tiny shimmering flecks to big ones longer than 18 inches. Teal green, brown striped, and orange pink parrot fish nibbled the corals, flicking their tails. Some of the colors were very tropical, pink, orange, turquoise, lemon yellow.

While Jonathan and I snorkeled on top, Jim swooped under the surface to take close-ups with his new Go-Pro camera on his wrist. Amanda dove down and up as well.They peeked at the tooth marks the parrot fish leave on the coral, and peered at sea feathers (a type of star fish). I’ve never gotten the hang of diving under the surface and clearing my snorkel when I return to the air. I was happy to watch them.

Most of the photos in this post come from the tour company. We decided to buy the photos from our day on the reef, and they throw in a group of their best reef photos so that eveyone could have a photo of a shark, a “Nemo” fish, and a giant clam. The giant clams were one of the highlights of the trip for me, I didn’t realize there were still enough of them that you could easily see them on the bottom. They are huge, and often a glowing bright blue or purple in the middle, where algae live in a symbiotic relationship with the clam. Our stop was a sort of “clam garden” and we saw quite a few, including some that are so old they’ve been engulfed by coral. One of the crew members swam down to a giant clam and waved her hand about six inches from the opening and it slammed shut! Very fun and creepy, it reminded me of an old cartoon.

We had a glorious day,  a wonderful time, well worth the boat ride and getting up early. We hear a lot about the destruction of the Great Barrier Reef, and all that is true. The reef is under immediate threat from warming seas, pollution, dredging, mining, and too many people like us who would like to see the GBR in person. It is a fascinating environment, unlike anything else I’ve ever seen.

Good to Know About Visiting the Great Barrier Reef:

We went with a snorkel-only trip because we knew we didn’t want to Scuba dive, and the focus on a single activity would make a smooth visit. Wavelengths is locally owned by a marine biologist. With one in the family, we’re sympathetic, and were pleased to find the staff really all were marine biologists.

Timing:

Our visit was May 22, toward the end of “stinger” season, and it was not necessary to wear a lycra suit to prevent stings from tiny jellyfish. (I wore a full suit, head cover, and socks to keep warm.) The water was warm, 26° C (almost 79° F) and that made our day easier because we didn’t have to worry about getting cold right away. High season is June-October. Since we visited before the busiest time of year our boat was almost but not completely full–max. number of passengers is 48, and we had around 40.

Conditions:

We visited at the end of the rainy season, and found it was still rainy on shore. We were concerned that the trip would be canceled and we’d have to rebook. They had promised to call, text, and email if there was a schedule change, and when we heard nothing, off we went, and the trip went out on time. On the reef it was partially overcast, with periods of sun that were very warm (nice). The sun on the water improves visibility, and those moments were the best.

The ride out to the reef was pretty rough. I don’t get seasick, but we bumped quite a bit, probably because going slower would end up taking most of our day going out and back. Some people felt nauseous, but sitting outdoors looking at the horizon seems to settle most stomachs.

When we arrived at our first snorkeling spot on Opal Reef, the water was rough. In fact, this was the roughest water we’ve ever tried snorkeling. It wasn’t a problem, other than occasionally getting some seawater in the snorkel, but you spit or blow it out and keep going. Interesting, though, that the experience of the people who do the trips makes them say, “No Worries,” when on our own we would not go into such choppy water. Once in the water, I rarely gave it another thought. There were a couple of spots where we had to kick and paddle pretty enthusiastically just to stay in place, so we probably got more of a workout than on a calmer day. There were always crew members in the water with the group and crew members keeping watch in case anyone signaled the three things we learned: Help (save me), Turtle (come look) and Shark (come look).

Crew/Guides/Staff:

One aspect of the trip we liked was that everyone on the boat worked on all the tour activities. The marine biologists gave safety briefings, doled out coffee and tea, kept things neat, led snorkeling tours, and took photos. We even caught the captain mopping the deck at one of our stops. Everyone pitched in to make a good trip and that was the result. Crew members were well-informed and willing to chat about the weather, the reef, fish identification, whatever questions came up. They were uniformly pleasant and helpful. I’d give Wavelengths high marks as a tour provider.

Cost:

Our trip was about $250 AU per person. We got ourselves to the landing in Port Douglas, though it was possible to be picked up from hotels in Cairns and Port Douglas. Everything on board was included: tea and coffee before departure and after our first and third stops, lunch at the second stop. There were bottled drinks for sale, and the photos did cost extra ($30 as a download; $45 with a cute Nemo usb), but there weren’t unavoidable added costs.

Wonders of the Galapagos

14 Friday Sep 2018

Posted by in Ecuador, Galapagos

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What makes the Galapagos strange is not the variety of birds and animals. Most are familiar. Pelicans, cormorants, and other seabirds are in the air, sea lions and iguanas on the beach, turtles in the water. We’ve seen these before, on beaches and in documentaries about the Galapagos. It’s their indifference to us. We ride by sea lions in the zodiacs, and we swim with them. Young sea lions are curious about us and circle as we snorkel, they dive and approach, they hang upside down, even blowing bubbles in the faces of some lucky swimmers. The sea lions flop around in the surf while we stand in the water only a few feet away, they loaf on the rocks as we hike along the beach trails.

In the water with our snorkeling gear, penguins come in for a dip, though they zoom by so fast most people don’t see them. Cormorants and boobies dive for fish just a few feet away. One day we swam in an area where sea turtles were stacked four deep, just hanging in the water. The largest tropical fish I’ve ever seen swim around and below the turtles and sea lions. Some move like flocks of underwater sheep, grazing  across the bottom, lazily waving their bright yellow triangular tails. Visitors may not touch any of the animals, but animals may brush against visitors and that’s a bit unnerving. What happens when a turtle wipes their shell on your chest, or kicks you? Do we want to swim along with marine iguanas? The iguanas don’t dog paddle with their tiny claws, but propel themselves along with their tail, like a snake. On shore, they pile up against one another in huge clusters.

The water is breathtakingly cold and an hour is as much as anyone can take. Snorkelers put up a hand to be collected by the boatman. We swim toward the zodiac, the ladder is lowered. We hand in our fins and climb out of the water, get a towel and sit on the black rubber surface, enjoying the heat it has absorbed from the sun. We may sip from our metal water bottle as we wait for the others. When everyone is back on board and our life jackets are on, we head to the ship where we disembark one at a time, wearing our mesh bags of gear so that our hands are free to grab a hand or railing and haul ourselves onto the ship. On a side deck we begin to shed layers of protective gear, rinsing mask, snorkel, fins, wet suit, and then hanging it all up. More flights of stairs to our room to shed the rest of our layers in the hot shower. Once dried and dressed, the wet gear goes back down to the spinner to squeeze out as much water as possible. There may be more snorkeling in the afternoon and we want it to be as dry as possible. Once all the gear is settled, we go for the drinks and snacks set out near our entry point to the ship. The process has taken a while, giving each person time to contemplate what they’ve seen as they transition from sea to land.

For me, snorkeling is a high point, and also the most taxing activity. I wear all the layers I have available: bathing suit, leggings, full body thin wet suit, shorty neoprene wet suit, dive socks, headcover. I wish I had gloves–a complete water ninja. As soon as I get in the water, I make fists and tuck them under my arms to keep my fingers warm as long as possible. I move with my fins and keep my hands tucked in, taking in the view without uncoiling my arms, trying to keep warm as long as I can. Even with all my layers, a wet suit can only keep me warm for about thirty minutes. After that, I either grit my teeth and keep swimming, or I raise my hand and head back. I don’t mind waiting for the others, it is comfortable bobbing with the zodiac, watching for penguins and turtles. I can barely believe I am in the Galapagos Islands, as seen on TV. This week, my life could be narrated by David Attenborough. A segment of his documentary of the islands is shown each evening.

Lonesome George wannabe sticking out his long neck.

Even on land, this trip is a bit surreal—we are really here in the land of the giant tortoises. We walked by two of them on a hike and they blandly watched us as we stared at them, then turned and crept into the bushes when they’d had enough. At the Charles Darwin Research Center, we saw tortoises born this year, just a few inches across, and groups of larger and larger sizes. Tortoises are not released into the wild until they are around 25 years old. Lonesome George, the last surviving Pinta Island giant tortoise, has a place of honor at the center. Since his death in 2012 at the ripe old age of 100+ he is a taxidermied specimen, posed with his long neck extended as though nibbling at leaves on a bush. He left no offspring, but don’t worry. Another tortoise, SuperDiego, has 1000 offspring and counting. We visited tortoises in the highlands of Santa Cruz Island, where they roam very, very slowly around cattle pastures, or what look like pastures. Some have numbers that were carved into their shells years ago, before the development of RFID tagging used now. They ignore us as they munch methodically on grass, leaves, and branches. We tried not to step on them or trip over them. The land iguanas were not troubled by our group of visitors at all, and sat unmoving in the center of the path.  We tiptoed around them and continued on our way, circling the next one, the next one, and the next. The lack of fear in creatures, and the multitudes of them, is what makes the Galapagos remarkable. Birds, iguanas, sea lions, sea turtles, and tortoises permit us in their environment rather than hiding from us or running away. Anywhere else, they would be rare or extinct. In the Galapagos, the animals turn their cold eyes on humans and are unimpressed.

Snorkeling in Aruba

04 Saturday Aug 2018

Posted by in Aruba, Paula

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Our Airbnb house had snorkeling equipment and I found enough to fit, though Jonathan found that his knees don’t much like snorkeling any more. We went snorkeling at Rodgers Beach, in sight of the former refinery, and saw many small fish. We found even better underwater terrain right by our house at Savaneta beach. The shore is a mix of rocks and sand and it was a bit of a balancing act to put on fins. Once in the water, though, visibility was excellent and we saw clouds of tiny fish along with some bigger ones. The small patch of mangrove seems to have been home to the billows of minnows of several species. We watched tiny black fish defending the sunken tire or coral covered brick that was their home base from all kinds of larger interlopers. At Savaneta Beach we met a group of men who usually have lunch on the table we happened to be using. They ended up advising us to try Boca Catalina on the north end of the island, which is a lovely beach with bigger fish than at Savaneta.

We returned to Savaneta for one last exploration because Wayne wanted to reach the barrier island that was a couple hundred yards off the Savaneta dock. With snorkel and fins that distance is no problem when there isn’t fast moving water or marine traffic, so we crossed with relative ease. I’m reminded that I don’t really like the deep water when I can’t see the bottom, but it probably took us less than ten minutes to cross. We’d both carried our sandals to do some exploring. There are a couple of houses out there and Wayne was curious about who would build out there and why, since a big storm would wash over the narrow gravelly strip. We saw that one house was abandoned but the other was someone’s summer home carefully gated across the entrance. A walkway lined with, beach glass, pebbles, and chunks of coral led to the dock! The entire spit of land was the big surprise—it is made of beach glass. Imagine sitting in front of your beach house at your cafe table and chairs amid a carpet of green and white glass pebbles. The entire barrier island is less than 50 ft. wide though it extends for about 500 ft parallel to the shore. We didn’t cover all of it once we discovered the carpet of glass. There is as much as at Glass Beach in northern California. I found a plastic bag among the usual shore detritus and picked up as much as I thought I could carry on the swim home. We laughed at how easy it was to collect pieces that we’d been combing the beaches to collect elsewhere on the island. It was a fantastic last day on Aruba. The swim back took two or three extra minutes as I carried my bag of loot to the other side. This was the perfect last day of snorkeling in Aruba. I now have jewelry-making supplies that will last a year or more.