I wake up feeling like a kid on Christmas who just got gifted half a Barbie. It is partially what I asked for, but now I have to deal with managing the missing parts. Kerrin said he would come through the halls and wake us with a jingle of his creating, but Caleb prefers to be up hours before that, so I figured with half an hour to go, I would just get up so I could take some medicine and combat the feeling of exhaustion that has taken over. I appreciate the sunrise on the way to the dining room where others are gathered with hot teas, coffees, and notebooks.
Kerrin gives us the plan of the day and lets us know when the first dive brief will start. There is one given for each dive site so that divers know the temperature, current conditions, visibility, map of the area, and a general idea of what they might see, etc. Another important purpose for these exchanges of information is making sure that everyone has a dive buddy (unless they are Emma J., “VIP client,” or Helen, “video pro”), as groups can change throughout the day. By one person not listening to instructions, she misleads some of the other guests to start in on the crew’s breakfast instead of waiting for the bell that announces we can sit at the tables or line up for the buffet.
Starting at 6am, the crew is kept busy until 10pm. This morning they help with breakfast, filling tanks, and mooring the catamaran. Every diver should always do a buddy check for air and weights, etc., but the crew here also put eyes and hands on during their checks to minimize mishaps. Our first stop is Goggle Gardens, and we are on a flag system (green = good, yellow = slight current, and red = also slight current). If you plan on being down longer than an hour, just let the crew know, as they keep track of entry/exit times, bottom time, and max depth for every dive. There is a member on the sun deck to keep an eye on the site in case someone might need retrieval via the dinghy.
I put on my 5mm wetsuit thinking that would be enough for the 77-79°F water. Caleb told me to dive with 16 pounds, and I only took 12, so I struggled to go below six feet as the current carried me away from the site and the boat. This brings me to the biggest state of panic in my diving memory. Never have I wanted to take my regulator (breathing hose) out so badly, but I did and swallowed the ocean as it swelled into my face. I put my back to the boat to combat this, and when I turned around, someone had a pole out that I could grab. I held onto the boat while they grabbed me two more pounds and some defog for my mask.
Luckily, Caleb had been motioned to return to the boat to wait on his dive buddy and grabbed me an extra weight that I would pocket on our descent. My average depth is 20 feet, and I come up after 56 minutes. There is so much colorful coral, and I get to see a ray flying by. The second dive at Two Towers feels colder, after climbing back into my wet gear, so we can keep the boat interior as dry as reasonable. I go down to 67ft before staying around 31ft for almost another hour. We’re both tired, and lunch just increases that feeling for me, so I spend two hours in bed missing the afternoon dives, and feel no different.
We saw a pod of about ten dolphins during lunch. The night dive starts at sunset (roughly 610pm), and though the water may be the same temperature, the wind blowing on wet gear just isn’t enticing. I’m bummed that we’re not going on all the dives and snorkeling in between like I told some of the people when I was still at 95%, but I also don’t want to wear myself out and miss a day of diving, so we must pace ourselves. Caleb is fine missing the night dive too, so we shower and have dinner at 8, which gives others a chance to get cleaned up for Asian night with a glass of wine and churros with ice cream. Divers can eat just as much as thru-hikers, and though I’m ready for bed, I stay up to let my food settle.
We’re up at 4am, leave the keys in the dropbox, and Caleb puts the luggage outside to wait in the chilly air before we join our bags and load them into the back of a Toyota Alphard (a luxury multi-purpose vehicle or high-end people mover since 2002). We were seated in luxury thanks to the Didi App, which is cheaper than Uber and charges a lower driver commission. The van was privately imported and comes with nanoe X climate control technology.
The airport is under construction, and we go left to get into the bag-drop lane, but are directed to the kiosks on the right; then we can return to drop off our heavy cargo and go through security in what seems like a stress-free ten minutes. (conspiracy theory idea omitted). The airside (past security vs the landside) appears to be a city sidewalk as business people get their breakfasts (from the many café options), take a seat at the ample tables, and then wait patiently on hold, for the loo, or to board the plane. It’s nice to be impressed by more than the art or transfer time at an airport.
Boyd’s forest dragons
Even the bathroom comes with a nice view of the sky, and the runway has a pleasant view of Botany Bay. We get upgraded to an exit row since the flight is not full. I can taste the perfume and lotion that the other passengers have decided to nervously overapply. It’s at this point I realize my throat is starting to itch, but then I’m more concerned about how the brace position for a plane emergency was determined. It was engineered over decades through crash investigations, medical analysis, biomechanics research, and controlled impact testing to reduce head trauma and neck injury by 40%.
Cairns is home to the world’s oldest tropical Daintree Rainforest, estimated to be 135+ million years old, while the Amazon Rainforest is 80 million years younger. I knew there were a few reasons I wanted to spend at least a year in the country. There is a bamboo-framed bike that is displayed to expose visitors to the creativity of the Kuku Yalanji people and the IRONMAN Cairns that held its first race in 2012. Even more inspiring to me are the giant animal heads of Great Barrier Reef icons, with their mouths serving as the opening to the luggage carousel.
epaulette shark
We get dropped off at Mike Ball Dive Expeditions’ office, where we check in, get our dive certifications verified, and store our hard-sided luggage. They will deliver our wet bag (full of dive gear) to the dive deck and our dry bag (full of diving accessories) to our room while we wander around and meet up again with them later. Lunch at Hemingway’s Brewery because it’s one of the closest two restaurants, this one located on the wharf. Their toilet is past the fermentation room, so they have cute signs on the floor letting customers know they’re getting closer to relief.
Caleb went to the Cairns Aquarium when he was here for work, so we walked the kilometer up Abbott St to spend a couple hours in the air-conditioned shade. The exhibits are built to follow a drop of rain from the mountains through the creeks, rivers, and swamps to the Coral Sea. They have the reef stone fish and olive sea snake, both lethal to humans, but not likely to bite unless provoked. There are plenty of lionfish, but this is their natural habitat. Instead, the crown-of-thorns starfish is the problem on the reef when they multiply too quickly and devastate the hard coral polyps. Culling them is done with multiple vinegar injections to reduce the starfish from just dropping the bad arm.
goldentail moray eel
I take some meds on the way back to the wharf, where no one is at the meeting spot yet, so we sit there a while and then move back inside Hemingway’s to wait for 530pm. The 25 of us are escorted by three of the ten crew members, with two volunteers on board, to the boat. Hand sanitizer is offered before the ramp, a nametag is given on deck that has your cabin number on it, and a photo is taken as soon as you step inside so that all of us can put names to faces. They ask that guests check that their bags made it to their room and then come up to the galley for introductions and a safety briefing that takes two hours.
After that, all guests sit with Kerrin, the trip director, to go over the dive forms that we filled out and checked in the office. He is thorough with forms, safety, communication, etc which is helpful when managing strangers in a risk-filled environment. I found the chef, June, and let her know that Caleb doesn’t like curry. I wasn’t concerned because of the many options offered with each meal, but didn’t want there to be an issue later. We were released to set up gear and unpack. We met Emma S., and she loaned us an outlet plug since the USB (that we planned to use) in our room wasn’t working. There’s a charging station on the wet deck as well. Everyone is off to their beds in preparation for tomorrow.
sea apple
Our room has bunk beds and a shared bath (toilet by cabin 1 and shower by cabin 2). The beds come with their own lights and curtains (so reminiscent of the military) so that you maintain some privacy and offer less disturbance to your cabin mate. The room comes with its own air unit set at 22°C, which we lowered to 17°C to keep the room and Caleb drier. There are spare towels, a hairdryer, and a few rolls of paper in the bottom drawer with space for our stuff above. There are life vests under the bed, and this is where we put our empty-ish bags.
There is a picture on the wall (ours is a turtle), a box of tissues, a welcome binder, and five hooks on the walls and door (that also has a mirror). All wet gear is asked to be dried outside. I climb up the two steps between the beds and dresser to claim the top bunk. I’m excited to finally be here, but not as thrilled as Caleb is to be on a boat again. The catamaran will travel through the night, so I read for a bit as I have room to sit in the corner comfortably before pretending to sleep every few hours. Whatever Caleb came down with, he has now successfully shared it with me.
I tried a Cadbury Cherry Ripe and was able to stay up until 830pm last night. I feel confident this will be sufficient for the liveaboard schedule. I’m up at 430am so I can get flu powder and ibuprofen for Caleb since he’s starting to feel worse and a slice of banana bread for me. He was up coughing and didn’t sleep well. We checked our dive insurance, which requires a doctor’s note, and he’s not ill enough for that, so he’s got two days to recover before our first dive. We fly from Sydney to Cairns in 26 hours.
I go downstairs for breakfast alone and bring him a sandwich or two (thinking we would have lunch in the room) and make him a cup of medicinal tea so he can go back to sleep. I look up directions to Beare Park and start my adventure with at least six flights of stairs going up the side of an apartment complex that incorporated the stone wall into the blueprints. There’s a little waterfall and pond between two sidewalks, some suitcases marked for trash pickup, and a car with the plate: WHEATS. Men are sunning in their Speedos, dogs are off-leash, and women are talking in the shade.
I watch two dogs, like a scene from 101 Dalmatians, as they get their owners to let them parallel play in the water. The beach here is blocked off in both directions, so I won’t be exploring that any further. Caleb lets me know that he ate our lunch. I find something to eat at The Bowls, their lemongrass chicken lunch special. I wouldn’t get it again, but I do finish it. Costing almost just as much for dessert will be the deluxe tiramisù affogato from Rivareno Gelato, and I smile at passersby vs offering to buy them one so they can know the joys of coffee and ice cream with a sweet dish included.
I take my time getting back to the room, read about the truth and reconciliation commissions in Canada and Australia, and shower. I pack our bags, leave the four 5-cent coins we found, and make Caleb another tea. I let it cool before I wake him. I look at things to do in Cairns tomorrow between landing at the airport and getting on the catamaran, which should be about six hours. Caleb is still coughing, in the same bed as me, as I prepare to dream about sea turtles, sharks, and stroopwafles.
I wake up at 530am with cramps, and Caleb is feeling competitive this morning, so he rises with a sickness. We won’t know that just yet, though. It presents with a sense of exhaustion, so it could just be jet lag and his common need for a nap since he doesn’t like sleeping much at night. I had a day of ferries and hiking planned, but toned it down to a round-trip ferry and bus ride to help with roadside walking. I’ll have breakfast the Australian way: coffee, Vegemite toast, grilled tomatoes, and a fried egg. The fresh, dainty-sliced watermelon is a nice touch.
I notice my breath in the park and wonder if it’s been as cold on prior visits or if I was focused elsewhere. The marble statue “Girl with Clogs and Musical Instrument” (a hurdy-gurdy) and the bronze Governor Arthur Phillip (unveiled on Queen Victoria’s 60th year of reign and over a century after his death) look great in the sun, especially with a laughing kookaburra perched upon his head. The bright pink Habanera series of English Daisy outshines the pale pink ruffled rose in a garden of buds. I appreciate this exploratory pace until I need the loo.
We stand a few minutes in a spaced-out line at Circular Quay, Wharf 3, waiting for the F1 ferry to deliver us to Manly, Wharf 1. There’s a faster catamaran that costs more and cuts travel time by a third, but we’re not in a hurry. The front is too windy for me, so I head to the back to get photos of the Opera House, Fort Denison, and the cliff faces (which over time lead to a head). The 161 bus leaves every half hour and drops us off at Fairfax Track at the southern end of Sydney Harbour National Park. From the Yiningma Lookout, we witness a whale exhale.
This pressurized air can shoot up to 30 feet in the air at speeds up to 450 km/h (depending on the species). Whales can also replace up to 90% of the air in their lungs in a single breath, whereas simple humans operate below 15%. Toothed whales have one blowhole and use echolocation, and baleen whales have two for faster air exchange. If I could have a superpower, it would be living as different animals for a week. The other couple on the loop comes to the park frequently to escape the city and to be impressed constantly by the sights as we are.
Sydney Harbour National Park
It’s possible we saw a humpback whale, which is one of the largest animals on Earth, weighing up to 40 tons. The largest land animal only weighs under 12 tons (10,400 kg). I can’t fathom that size, though I have stood next to an elephant. This moment is made even more special by the next animal I see: an inchworm that weighs only up to 1.4 grams. This is the awe I aspire to live in every day. Then we see an Australian brushturkey, with a bright yellow waddle used for mating, temperature regulation, and territorial disputes. Their tail is upright (for balance and speed), unlike the broad flat tails of domestic turkeys.
The masked plover has yellow face waddles and apparently spurs on the bend of their wings for defense. I will not be adding that altercation to my list of accomplishments. The plant life out here comes with interesting names: cinnabar polypore, pincushion flower, and heath-leaved banksia. We make our way to the North Fort Visitor Centre, where we learn that live firing to sea was stopped in 1984, the Memorial Walk opened in 2002, and volunteers have restored the Plotting Room (2019-20) and two battery observation posts 2022-23).
WWII Memorial
There are weekly tours of the tunnels that connected the 9.2″ calibre guns. They were capable of firing 380lb shells up to 16 miles at a rate of two rounds per minute. They were only used once in 1943 when a Polish vessel approached without clearance. The captain was billed £600 for wasted ammunition. We walk by the Hanging Swamp where two guys are taking photos and by the Barracks Precinct where a man is running laps on the parade grounds. We wait in the shade with a brushturkey for the bus that will return us to downtown Manly.
We take a peek at the beach before finding lunch at Fusion Point. We didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into as we sat on the patio. The pink lemonade seemed innocent enough, and then the tower of food arrived. Caleb got two burgers while I got a BLT (what I thought I ordered) with a chicken sandwich. The Club Deck also comes with guacamole, onion, carrot, beetroot, and aioli. I was glad I didn’t get the chips (fries), and though I ate what I could, there was still enough meat and crust to make a hipster breakfast.
Manly Beach
Caleb says having lunch and dinner together will save his energy later, as he still feels just as exhausted as he did hours ago. The beach has stairs to sit on for those who want to watch the waves and listen to the birds without getting sand in their shoes before going back to work. That leaves us and some random kids rolling in the little pit they just dug. I count 14 people climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge on our return ferry to Circular Quay. We walk back to the room, and I make a solo trip to the store. Caleb asked for lozenges, and I returned with sour squirms instead. I read for a bit before going back to the store so that Caleb can sleep without coughing as much.
I wake at 1030pm and 230am again, but sleep till 4am while dreaming about eating snacks in an empty house with Zeus (my favorite golden doodle). I read a bit from Behave by R.M. Sapolsky before remembering that writing during traveling makes catching up on the blog so much easier upon return, so I do that until breakfast. I had forgotten the things-to-do list that I made, but the hotel lobby had the same places on the back of a map, so way more convenient.
We walk through another section of the Royal Botanic Garden and see another side of the Opera House. We meander through The Rocks neighborhood, where water has its own steps next to the ones for people. We follow the sidewalk under the Sydney Harbour Bridge with a surprise piece of history – officers’ quarters were built here in 1857. After WWI, the building was used as a Tractor Training School. From 1925 to 1932 it housed the engineering company that constructed the bridge above it before being demolished.
Walking the Sydney Harbour Bridge (or climbing it with a harness) is a popular attraction in the city. There’s also a museum in the South-East Pylon that offers more stairs, some history, and unobstructed views of the harbour for a fee. We’ll use that as our turnaround point to walk by a closed museum (Susannah Place) instead, where historical houses depict life from the 1840s to the 1970s. It’s the oldest neighborhood in Sydney and has fewer people than the non-crowded overwater walkway.
From here, it’s less than a kilometer to the Museum of Sydney, which was built over Australia’s first Government House. For this reason, it displays many artifacts found from the colonial period in different exhibits. There’s even an interactive space (common in museums here) where guests can draw their archaeological find. There are musket balls and brass buttons from the soldiers who were ordered to shoot and hang any Aboriginal who made ‘the smallest show of resistance’. This was 30 years after the First Fleet brought over convicts from Britain and kidnapped First Nations people to forcibly open communications.
I was going to get a drink to go when Caleb suggested we grab a snack and a chair too. This gives Caleb time to find us a route to the Australian National Maritime Museum. We decide on the light rail, which supposedly cuts our walking distance in half by taking us to Darling Harbour, instead of the bus, which would leave us on the other side of Pyrmont Bridge. We pay the entrance fee to gain access to the last of 22 identical lighthouses built in Queensland. It’s from 1874, originally located in Cape Bowling Green, dismantled in 1987, and reassembled in 1994.
view from Sydney Harbour Bridge
In front of the museum is the Tu do (Vietnamese for “freedom”) boat that delivered only a lucky few of the tens of thousands of refugees who made it to surrounding countries and didn’t fall prey to pirates or become lost at sea between 1976 and 1988. This boat, one of three left, is being preserved as a significant relic of modern migration and is still in the process of conservation, though it will never allow guests on board. Through the museum, we can climb aboard the replica of the Duyfken, a Dutch ship from 1606, sent to establish trade by the Dutch East India Company.
Museum of Sydney
We are unable to see more of the Steam Yacht Ena as she was under renovation. She was built in 1900 as a luxury boat for government functions, renamed during WWI to hunt for German raiders, and after the war used for transporting apples and commercial fishing in Tasmania. She sank in 1981, was salvaged six years later and restored, and then donated to the museum in 2017. The lighthouse has room for about six visitors and three volunteers who are struggling between entertaining and tracking guests, and communicating amongst themselves.
Invasion I by Gordon Syron, 1999
Before we left for Australia, our friend recommended we dive the SS Yongala Wreck, but that will have to be a separate trip. This lighthouse was shaken violently by a cyclone in 1911 and would be the site of cargo washing up on shore a few days later, confirming the loss of one of the founders of the firm that built the lighthouses, but the wreck wouldn’t be found for 47 years. Aboard the restored James Craig, 1874, we learn that a swinging motion helps people sleep, and I’m sure the captain’s bath was beneficial too. Before we enter the hatch of the Oberon-class submarine HMAS Onslow, we get to see an altered/redadacted film about its time in the 1970s.
view from Pyrmont Bridge
We missed some of the information sitting beside a loud and inquisitive child, while the mom and son next to me whispered without disruption. I moved us to the other side of the theater before leaving altogether. The submarine reminded me of being on a ship, but one that has been squeezed tightly as every surface has a purpose. Through the periscope, we are able to see the Sydney Tower. I could spend a night onboard, but I can’t imagine not seeing the sun or feeling its UV rays for weeks. The last vessel to explore outside is the Daring-class destroyer HMAS Vampire (D11).
aboard James Craigcaptain’s bath
I got to see inside a gun turret and read a posted notice: “Remember, … the more violent your method, the better chance you have of saving the other man’s life…” They still have a Hoovermatic Deluxe, one of the first few companies to create a washer-dryer combo in the 1950s. I have a peach kombucha and passionfruit muffin, and Caleb has a carbonated beverage with carbs while we wait on our large mochas so that we have the energy to explore the inside of the museum. We start with the Treasures of the Viking Age: The Galloway Hoard exhibit.
HMAS Onslowescape hatch
There are over one hundred tiny items on display, so having them enlarged on screens makes it easier to see their details, after being buried in Scotland for over one thousand years. There are Irish glass beads, a stone that rattles, and a British-made bead made prior to 821 CE. I enjoy learning about history, but I am thoroughly delighted to learn more about the present, hence the anatomy classes in school and the Ultimate Depth exhibit at this museum. We get to learn about the exploration of the five primary layers of the world’s oceans.
workcenter on HMAS Vampire (D11)
The midnight zone, 1000 to 4000 meters below the surface, is one of the largest habitats that scientists know very little about. They have sent deep-tow cameras along with CTD (conductivity, temperature, depth) sensors to measure and record life. The hadal zone, everything beyond 6000 meters (3.73 miles), has only been visited by 27 people (who have returned) via three unique submersible vessels. Less than a quarter of Australia’s marine estate, some 14 million km², has been mapped in detail, and less than 10% of its creatures identified.
We drop our museum access wristbands into a bin to be composted on our way out. We cross the Pyrmont Bridge and admire the neatness of bedding and belongings seen against shop windows (and other places around the city) awaiting their owner’s return. We take the light rail to Circular Quay and walk to the Fortune of War, Sydney’s oldest pub, to have a drink. I order a palm tree passion as rum and passion fruit are popular here, and then we stay for dinner after meeting a director of niche fame known for her equestrian advocacy, visiting Australia in the new wave of the decades-long debate over culling brumbies (feral horses introduced in 1788).
She’s with her husband of 14 years and thinks that we’re too young to have celebrated our 18th year of marriage four months ago. I thought that was sweet, but even more so when I found out (later online) she’s a few months younger than me. There are still tents being taken down from the Bastille Festival (a four-day annual event) that focuses on French culture while allowing others to participate (so Sydney-like). This is our latest night out yet, but there’s no photo proof of our walk back to the room under the waxing crescent moonlight.
TheJessicaness 