Day 8: North to South

Not a whole lot to report here from Sydney. Today was a travel day and in the order that we did things, here we go:

Woke up, Kirsten is feeling almost recovered.

Walked down to the beach for one last opportunity to soak it all in before we take the Greyhound back to Cairns.

Riding in the greyhound I had my forehead pressed against the window hoping for a glimpse of the elusive cassowary and just as we were leaving the state park that surrounds Mission Beach I saw one walking along a path leading into the forest! It was very pretty and exciting! I clapped my hands.

I also saw an emu standing in someone’s driveway.

Cairns is a tourist trap and we’re glad we didn’t stay there. My ravioli at Pasta Fasta was pretty good though but I burned the heck out of my tongue on Kirsten’s soup. And the nice European lady at the Didgeridoo Hut showed me how to play a Didge. The circular breathing is very tough. But yeah, Cairns is like Miami.

Burger King tastes a little better here than back in the states. Although here he has been stripped of his royalty and is known as Hungry Jack. Who knew that the Burger King’s name was Jack. King Jack to us Americans!

Virgin Blue is only mildly better than Jet Star. Nothing at all like Virgin Atlantic.

We’re glad to be in Sydney, it’s hilly! We will do laundry here and many other fun things, starting tomorrow.

Day 7: My Solo Voyage

Sometime between the excitement of the reef and this morning, Kirsten came down with some sort of stomach bug that had her unable to participate in today’s rafting. Fortunately it was probably the choice day to get sick as the rafting, while very cool, paled in comparison to the reef or even to the Road tour a few days ago.

So I set off on my own to join Raging Thunder’s Xtreme Team of morning rafters on the Tully River. The guidebooks say that it’s the best guided rafting in Australia and possibly the southern hemisphere. They also all consistently said that the Xtreme tour was worth the extra few dollars as you are able to get ahead of the rest of the tour groups and get to participate in a few side activities. More on that later. Once again I was the token American, although there was a solo Canadian from Vancouver also on the Xtreme tour. I didn’t get the nationalities of the other two rafts but mine consisted of two Frenchmen, two Aussies, myself, and our guide, Mauricio, a self-proclaimed Patagonian. In my ignorance I don’t recall which part of South America that’s in, Chile or Argentina. Something to look up when I get home.

The bus ride out to the launching point was a trifle alarming. The guides put on a ruse about how they were the worst rafters and that’s why they were put in charge of the Xtreme team, because they were so bad (and dangerous). That’s fine, I can go for that kind of ghost story around the campfire stuff, but when they started talking about the saltwater crocodiles, I started to get some apprehension going. They pointed out the warning signs posted along the road warning about estuarine crocodiles being present and said that while they had only seen them a handful of times, they did seem attracted to the rafts and new exactly how to flip them over. Moreover, they didn’t have a plan on how to deal with them other than not to be the last person to shore. Ha. That’s a riot. Suddenly I was a little glad Kirsten was back at the hotel and I had to remind myself that if it was too dangerous, these guys wouldn’t be doing it.

I had been whitewater rafting before in Tennessee with my Dad and sister 14 years ago on the Ocoee River – the same river they used for the rafting competitions in the 1996 Olympics so naturally I would be comparing the two experiences. We got in our rafts and paddled around a bit and got familiar with Mauricio’s commands. Forward, Stop, Backpaddle were all pretty easy. We also mastered Hang On which meant grabbing the oh no ropes and ducking into the raft as well as the Jump Up and Down command which involved a lot of bouncing in place to get us over rocks that had beached us. The command instructing us to move around on the raft such as to the right or left or front or to squat down on the floor proved a little tougher but we managed.

Then we were off. The rapids came at a pretty relaxed pace with just a bit of paddling to get us into position for each one. The stretches in between were either placid pools or gentle rapids require no paddling. It was actually pretty relaxing compared to the furious paddling we were constantly doing on the Ocoee. It gave me ample time to enjoy the scenery. The river started out in a normal forest but descended into a rain forest. At times we were going through deep canyons that seemed to be hewn out of one solid black rock. I think I read somewhere that this was all basalt. Whatever kind of rock it was it was very impressive. The greenery was very pretty and impressive as it towered above us. We coasted along like this with a few points where the guides invited us to jump off boulders into deep pools and to shoot the rapids on our backs relying on our lifevests to keep us afloat. The first half concluded with a dip under a waterfall before we stopped for a hamburger and hot dog lunch on the banks. Australians like to eat their burgers with beets and carrots.

The second half of the day was similar to the first with the exception of a few water dragon sightings. They look like iguanas so anytime a city boy like myself sees a big ol lizard is pretty exciting! So it was a fun trip and the rain forest was stunning – even when it rained. All things considered though, I think I would have rather had a second day on the reef. Thankfully no crocodiles were seen.

Later that evening when I was out running errands for my sick wife I walked along the beach for a bit and saw some Bluebottles, or Portuguese Man-o-War jellyfish washed up. They are such a vivid shade of blue they look like party streamers attached to a tiny bubble of cling wrap. I’m glad we never went swimming as they have a very nasty sting.

Day 6: Cuttlefish, stingray, and shark, oh my!

Swimming at the Great Barrier Reef is like visiting a different planet.  Everything is perfectly normal until you put your eyes underwater.  One second you see the sky and the boat and other people on the boat and the next your eyeball to eyeballs with a school of fish.  And beyond that is another school.  And beyond that another.  And beyond that is the reef itself.  It was like being in the tank at the best aquarium in the world – although I suppose that is exactly what the ocean is.

We went with Calypso Diving which is a snorkeling and scuba outfit here in Mission Beach.  Since this is the low season we were only with 18 other people including the crew.  There was one other American couple from Chicago and the rest were German, Japanese, and Australian tourists and was pretty evenly split between the snorkelers and the scuba divers.  The reef is actually quite far out in the ocean and when we reached their selected location we could not see any land.  They gave us snorkelers a few instructions.  The best coral is over there, the best fish are over there.  Don’t go over there because that’s all dead coral.  Don’t go out to where the waves are (an impossible distance), and DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!  Alright, now off you go.

So that’s how we came to find ourselves with our first shocking encounter with the invisible ocean world just underneath the surface.  We decided to check out the coral first since the tide was going out and Nigel, the instructor, said it can get tight over there.  Now we had heard from other sources that took reef tours that left from the regional capital of Cairns (pronounced “cans”) that when you snorkel the reef it is still a good 20-40 feet down and the only way you can get closer is to scuba dive.  That was not the case here.  The coral here was so shallow that we really had to flatten our bodies against the surface of the water to get by in some stretches.  Some people didn’t make it and came back to the boat with scratches from the coral which looks soft and fluffy but is actually razor sharp.  It went on and on for as far as we could see and we swam pretty far out from the boat.  And it’s so pretty!  We saw so many different varieties of coral and sponges and anemones and starfish and sea cucumbers and giant clams, as well as millions of tiny little reef fish and a cuttlefish.

After an hour or so out over the reef we swam back to the boat for a sandwich and pasta salad lunch provided by the outfit.  We ate, we swapped stories, we reapplied sunscreen, and then we jumped right back in.  This time we decided to go check out where the fish were which was along the reef wall as it descended into the lagoon we were calling base.  The lagoon itself was probably 60 feet deep and had a sandy bottom so there was a lot to see.  The fish over there were a lot bigger.  The funny thing was though that the bigger fish were more skittish and kept a wary eye on us as we swam by while the schools of smaller fish were very curious.  There were times when I would be completely enveloped in small fish, many of them peering into my goggles.  These were not your run of the mill, brainless goldfish!

Kirsten and I would drift apart and then come back together again before drifting off again.  It was during one of these apart phases where I watched a line of larger fish getting a tune-up from the little surgeonfish that clean off their dead scales and such.  Some were even allowing the fish to swim into their gills and their mouths!  I swam back to find Kirsten and we both burst excitedly into the air.

“I saw a shark!”

“I saw a. . . wait, what?”

“I saw a reef shark, it was like three feet long and it was just swimming by!”

“Awesome!”

“Yeah!  What’d you see?

“Um. . . some fish getting cleaned by other fish.”

“Oh that’s neat too.”

“Yeah.”

But then later I saw a huge stingray rise up from the lagoon floor and flap along until it found another resting spot where it promptly covered itself up with sand and disappeared.

It was an absolutely amazing day and I would do it again in a heartbeat.  The whitewater rafting has some big shoes to fill if it wants to keep up with the Great Ocean Road and the Great Barrier Reef!  We’ll give you the lowdown on Raging Thunder, tomorrow, same bat time same bat channel.  Sponsored by: Kellogg’s Nutri Grain cereal.  Once you try you won’t be able to live without it!  And by Vegemite, it’s like putting concentrated beer spread on your toast!  You’ll learn to like it, young whelp!

Day 5: It Gets Better

4:30 is just way too early. Not only is it an ungodly hour, it is too early for hot water, breakfast, and public transportation as well apparently. We were forced to take an early morning flight to Cairns in order to catch the Greyhound buses leaving for Mission Beach which is our next stop. This is ending up being an expensive day. Since the buses weren’t leaving we had to get a cab to the airport ($70) and our flight to Cairns was about Jet Star which despite its slick logo and attractive flight attendants, is the same as the nickel and diming Spirit Airlines in the US.

My tone is cranky because we were told at the gate that our backpacks were too large to fit in the overhead bins and we would be charged $80 each to check them. Nice. I could fit one of these many three year old children whose parents are allowing them to run up and down the aisles playing tag or something while we are in midair into the overhead bins with no problem. Every five or ten minutes or so one of them trips and faceplants and then screaming ensues. After that the cycle begins again. Nevermind the five dollar drink, when do we land!?

Okay so we landed and disembarked through the very strange Cairns airport campus. The building containing the jetways was separate from the building where the passengers wait which is separate from the arrivals hall which is separate from the baggage claim. And by separate I mean we had to go outside and walk around on pathways. Welcome to the University of Cairns International Airport! But once we got our bags and caught our taxi to the center of Cairns and were seated aboard the Greyhound bus I finally felt the grumpiness start to lift. And after an hour and a half of driving through corn and banana farms (yeah I didn’t know they could co-exist either) we arrived at Mission Beach.

Mission Beach is, as advertised, a very sleepy little beach town. Actually a lot sleepier and rural than we were expecting. We were kind of expecting a little beach town nestled on a few blocks between the beach and the rainforest sort of like what can be found on the Lake Michigan coast (minus the rainforest) or even like the coastal towns we drove through yesterday. Mission Beach is much more rural – more like what I imagine coastal Maine would be like – as in, there isn’t hardly anyone there! But no matter, we went and checked into our hotel, the aging but beautiful Mission Beach Resort that is a throwback to the Motor Lodges of the 1950s. Our room opens up into a private patio on a grassy common area with a natural rock swimming pool/hot tub as a centerpiece. Coconut palms are everywhere!

After getting settled and doing some grocery shopping we walked down to the beach which was a little bit of a hike but not bad at all and it was through a quiet neighborhood. The beach is tremendous. It stretches in both directions as far as you can see and there are maybe 20 people in sight. The water is warmer than the air which is breezy, the waves are gentle. Bali Hai is off across the bay in the distance. Actually it’s called Dunk Island but when I first saw it I immediately thought of the musical, South Pacific. Bali Hai, my special island. . . .

We walked along the beach barefoot through the gentle surf until we reached the next little neighborhood where we got dinner at some Greek/Malaysian place that was just alright. But the people were very friendly and there was a cat named Sookie who kept us company while we waited.

There are also a lot of birds here! The owner of the restaurant pointed out to us the butcher birds that were making a huge racket. We heard something that sounded like a monkey laughing. I think it’s a laughing kookaburra because I just love to say “kookaburra.” We also saw what looked like a curlew? Gonna have to check the books on that one. No cassowaries yet though even though we are apparently in the thick of their habitat, which is exciting since they are supposedly more rare than giant pandas or Bengal tigers. We’ll keep our eyes peeled.

A great finish to a stinky beginning. I guess that evens out to a good day, right? So tomorrow, let’s see what this Great Barrier Reef is all about.