Choppy seas and chopper skies

 Another early morning trek to the harbor. This time the boat was leaving at 9:00am which gave us time to source our civilised caffeine hit from the local Koala dispensary (where the locals go) instead of the milling tourist hordes over the hill. What a difference a few hundred meters and local know how makes.

If yesterdays swell adventures kicked a few stomachs into overdrive then today's high seas chop was always going to stretch those of lesser constitution. Our journey to the outer reef started off as a pleasant journey past Dent, Whitsunday, Hook and a myriad of others, all looking resplendent in their pristine tree covered rocky outcrops rising above the glistening waters as the gentle breeze trickled through their water lined valleys. Then we hit the open water and the craft we were on had seemed unperturbed by the elements all of a sudden became a struggling beast forcing its way through mountainous swells of which roller coasters around the world had fashioned their design on. Not really – but the poor folk who forgot to look at the horizon or at least stand up would have thought so. More bags handed out by crew wearing gloves, some on them looking a bit green themselves in the process.

Once we got into the calmness created by the reef though it all settled down and a great time was had by all and sundry. We splurged 300 buckazoids on a 10 minute chopper ride which was possibly the best value for dosh in a long time. It also took up a significant chunk of the hours we had to spend on the platform - so it all worked out extremely well. The helicopter looked and sounded like a flying tadpole from the distance. Up close she was a sleek machine with extraordinary vision when sitting in the front passenger seat. Thus positioned was your blogger (capturing the whole event on video) and was thus pretty damn happy about the coincidence of being the tallest of the 4 passengers and thus scoring that prime seat. A great way to view the reef from above whilst staying dry.

A simple and very tasty buffet lunch was appreciated by both. Blogger for the meaty spicy carbs – Non Blogger for the chance to settle the gastric turmoil after all the chopping sensations experienced up to that point in the day. We then did the tour of the reef under the water in the semi-submersible they have there – that was a great way to view the reef close-up whilst staying dry.

We then donned the Teletubby outfits again and jumped in with goggles, snorkel and flippers and viewed the reef close-up whilst getting wet (literally – not due to excitement – enough of that already in one day thank you). By the time we went snorkeling the water level had dropped, the sun came out and reef came alive with colours and the inhabitants put on a really nice show for us. Needles to say the whole set up is really well set up. They have a mesh of rope courses for divers to follow that delve into the depths far beyond this skin divers’ capabilities. The pontoon has a village of double swags for overnighters to stay in, and they even help out stranded fishing trawlers who’s engines break down due to shonky fuel. Somewhat concerned about their racially profiling of fish.

So we were on it, above it, below it, in it, tasted it, saw it, smelled it, heard it, felt it, read about it, heard about it. Pretty much the whole gamut. It was all truly amazing and rewarding - the colours and variety of life is mind-boggling: the waters are rich and deep and trying to fathom how we can be blatantly destroying it all through our bottomless insatiability for consumerism in incomprehensible.   

The trip home was bumpier and seemingly longer than the trip out but could've be a perception thing. Once the calmness of the islands was breached the whole area just oozes with beauty and charm. Every angle, every vista is breathtaking and envious in the fact that you can’t just stop and prop on that beach for a while. Or that one, or that one. Or be on that boat, or that yacht, or that one in that position overnight. We just kept thundering past, envisioning an existence in these locales where you aren’t constantly gagging on the diesel exhaust fumes of the outside balconies of the tour boats. (you have 3 choices: 1. Inside: cold aircon with people throwing up. 2. Up on the sundeck exposed to hurricane winds, bright sunshine and people throwing up, 3 on the rear balconies, under cover, warm air, no sun and people throwing up.).

 Still – no one died and we had a great day out. It was once again a joy to walk off the boat and straight to our buggy (ne: cart) and shot over to the IGA for the evenings supplies. Back up to the abode (3 minutes’ drive) and witnessed the setting sun over the valley whilst watching the SUPpers surfing the waves at our local beach, putting on a show for us as we joined the aerobatic cockatoos in toasting the end of the day - and a glorious one at that. A follow-up BBQ saw the rest of the seafood platter downed (better cooked this time).