Days 8 and 9 - endorphins

Endorphins. Lots of them. Endorphins are happiness hormones; they cause a sense of euphoria. You get an ‘endorphin rush’ from good food, exercise and sex. My load is from going to the Great Barrier Reef, where I swam, snorkelled and dived. Shared happy moments with Alyson and a couple of new friends while having the amazing opportunity to have Hardy’s Reef without 241 visitors all rushing to get their four hours of bliss.

After much decision-making throughout the trip, Alyson left me with the decision about what to do while at Airlie Beach. The options were simple. Either a day tour or a one night-two days tour to see the Great Barrier Reef. That amazingly beautiful and complex natural structure that can be seen from space. One of the most biodiverse ecosystems on Earth. The sort of picture that high definition TVs show on repeat because of the colours, the movement and the peace it brings. After much consultation with our wallets and, in my case to a generous cash gift from my parents, we settled for the one night two days tour. We popped yet another fine Barossa valley bubbly open and celebrated our next day excursion while getting ready to go out.

We dined on potato and rosemary pizza and drank Sauvignon Blanc on tap in downtown Airlie. Then we moved to a trendy bar that was full of 20-somethings and me. The music was good and free sparkling wine for the ladies. You couldn’t really ask for much more. It was interesting seeing the vibe there. Most people were trying to impress someone. You name it, just someone. The body languages spoke at unison, you didn’t need to be fluent in it to understand it. It was a roaring silence. The colours, textures and shapes matched the body language and the results were interesting.

In one of those chance encounters that this trip is being good at, I met Daniel and Jonas. Travelling, working and learning along their way in Australia. Daniel spoke Spanish as his mom is from Spain, so I was pretty happy when he started speaking Spanish in a nearly perfect Spanish accent. Jonas didn’t, although he knew how to say ‘vamos a la playa’ which was probably good enough when you are in beach country. Then Alyson met them and the conversation got going to interesting topics and places. We ended up chatting until early morning, sharing puffs of smoke and a star filled sky. We all had the common understanding that if you don’t agree totally on something, but you respected the opinion, it was fair enough. We also decided that if there was more ‘fair enough’ attitude, the world will be in a better shape now. So, along with the ‘sand’ dilemma in Moreton Bay, I will be submitting this idea to wherever you submit ideas that you wish were to become true.

After about two hours of sleep we went to the Port of Airlie and with a cup of coffee in hand we were seated in a private booth for ReefSleepers. There were nine of us hailing from Finland, Thailand and Sydney. There were 241 others in the boat that were to be sailing three hours there and three hours back while we would sleep in the pontoon. Upon arriving, we got ready to get into the water and jumped in while dodging screaming kids, grinning grannies, tanned teens and swimming-challenged visitors.

Giant clam and corals 

Immersing in the warm waters of the tropical Western Pacific was bliss. Our stinger suits protected not only about the dreadful jellies (box-jellies and irukandjies) but also from the relentless sun shining above us. Being able to see the reef for the first time was breath taking. My jaw didn’t drop as I had to hold on to my snorkel for dear life, but it dropped in my head. I think my heart stopped a beat. Or two. It was mesmerising. Butterfly fishes dressed in yellow and black, parrot fishes with all the colours of the rainbow, giant clams with turquoise lips, stag-horn corals with shades of blue, spotty sea cucumbers. The blue. That blue that starts clear and goes into deep blue. Strikes of light shining through gave you the impression that you were in an aqueous dream where silence could be felt in your skin.

We tried to escape the 241 tourists taking turns to have their selfies taken, and went to the outskirts of the area open for our enjoyment. The Great Barrier Reef Marine Park Authority is doing a pretty good job managing the hordes of visitors aiming to catch a glimpse of The Reef. Deckhands in bright red inflatable dinghies herded us like herding cats and quite often a honk from the boat will remind us not to stand on the reef or not to venture outside the authorised area. The areas closer to the pontoon were damaged by the constant flip-flaps of unexperienced snorkelers. Or perhaps from those that really did not understand or did not care about protecting the reef. I don’t know what is worse: lack of knowledge or lack of empathy. Either one is causing damage and not only to The Reef.

At 3 pm, the other 241 left and we had The Reef to ourselves. We were nodding and smiling to our fellow ReefSleepers and we felt like accomplices in an adventure that could only get better. Sort of having a jar of the best cookies ever to ourselves and no tummy-ache at the end of the day. We jumped back into the water. No red inflatable dinghies herding anyone, and only nine pairs of snorkelling fins were splashing around in the surface. The difference was amazing. The Reef was breathing a different life as it was spared of the noise, the crowds, the humans splashing around. I saw fishes I had not seen in the morning outings: spotty groupers, unicorn fishes, cute little cuttlefish flying their wings, blennies, a tiny goby. And it all came back to me. Scientific names of long-forgotten fishes fleeted through my mind. The fishes all ready to ran away if the disruption to its normal routine were to become too much. Cleaning wrasses tidied a big humphead Maori wrasse off parasites. They went deep into its gills while the wrasse was tilted to one side, like in a spa.

Unfortunately we had to leave the warm embrace of the Pacific by 5 pm and dinner was served at 6 pm. I guess that is why some Australians call dinner ‘tea’. We were surrounded by ocean in the most amazing shades of blue. And noddies. Squawking silly and regurgitating noddies. Our dinner drinks and merriment (or ‘sobremesa’ in Spanish) was sort of cut short when the silly noddies starting looking dazed and confused because of the deck lights and kept flying into us. The milky way led the way to our swags (Australian canvas tents with a built-in mattress) and because of the short (or long) night we had the day before, we fell asleep to the squawking of the noddies and the overwhelming silence of being the only humans (plus the crew) in one of the most pristine and natural settings one can hope for.

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A yummy breakfast was served at 8 and by 8:30 we were back in the water. By 10 am I was going diving. My first dive in 12 years. I had stopped diving altogether while still in Galapagos because my ears were not doing quite right. It only took a few extra equalisations for me to feel back at home and to let go of the dive instructor. To remember the bliss that it is to have your bubbles as the only sound and the ability to look at fish into their eyes. I saw this ascidian (or sea squirt) that looked like a beautiful bright yellow heart. It had blue veins running along and the two holes pulsated water in and out, just like we do with our blood. Needle fishes and more groupers; colourful flatworms swimming in an undulating pattern that caught your eye even if you were not looking; a sparkly white nudibranch and a pitch black one with electric blue rims. When you snorkel you get to see the big stuff, the big picture. Like having a wide-angle lens. When you dive you go on macro mode. You can see the detail of the coral polyps, see the indentations on the corals after being munched by parrot fishes. I can dive again. My heart is content. If I were to set a soundtrack to this, I think I could not get any better than Xavier Rudd…

By 11 am we saw the boat approaching the pontoon and we all felt the dread of having 241 visitors ready for a four hour rush. We had been nine, and we were friends now. We had shared moments that perhaps few people understood, we knew how to cherish simple and slow-paced moments. We all gave each other a sympathetic look that was well understood and ventured again into the ocean, this time with screaming kids, grinning grannies, tanned teens and swimming-challenged visitors. We were back to reality, unfortunately.

We arrived back in Airlie Beach at 6 pm and decided to stay the night here and have an early start tomorrow. We start our journey back home, inland. Our next three days will be solid driving, between 9-11 hours per day. We will be home by Sunday. And back to Uni on Monday.