This is a story about a Chinese junk, a coral reef and that elusive
state called happiness that we all aspire to. It begins, geographically
speaking, in Hobart, which is a long way from Port Douglas or more
particularly the Low Isles, where it ends. But in a spiritual sense it
begins and ends in the same place: in the natural world, a place that
most of us take for granted and often abuse; and in our hearts, which
in our everyday busyness we often fail to listen to with the attention
that we should.
I left Hobart the day after my contract with Tasmania's premier arts
festival finished. After 10 months of 60 to 70 hour weeks and the sort
of dramas that working in the arts inevitably involves I couldn't wait
to be back on my bicycle chewing up the miles and feeling the sweat of
my own exertion 'wash me clean'. I flew straight up to Brisbane and
liberated my bike from its box and assembled it right by the luggage
carousel. Within half an hour, my panniers were packed, my cycle
computer calibrated and I rolled out of the terminal and hit the road.
My final destination was Port Douglas where I planned to meet my friend
Robyn who was taking a break from running Hobart's best and busiest
laundry-cafÚ. It was in Port Douglas that I was also to meet her
friends Alex and Rick who own Shaolin, a Chinese junk, on which they
run charters to the nearby reefs at Low Isles. Including side trips I
would have to push my body and my bicycle over 2,500km on Australia's
National Highway No. 1 before enjoying the ultimate reward of a trip to
the reef to swim amongst the coral with the turtles and the multitude
of tropical fish.
Over the last couple of years I have repeatedly set off on these solo
cycling trips. And I have been lucky enough to sail in the tropics on
several occasions. It's as if I instinctively know that the questions
that I need to keep responding to are in the landscape. Everything
slows down when I'm on my bike. The pace and the experience match the
process of healing and renewal. It is sometimes painful and sometimes
it comes all in a rush. But I have learnt that healing that comes too
quickly doesn't last. It's like that too when you take the time to sail
somewhere rather than motor on a fast ferry or catamaran. It's as if
you see things through a different set of eyes when you slow down.
Everything jumps out at you like scenes do when we change filters and
lenses on a camera. The colours are somehow more vivid and using
nature's or your own energy literally puts you into the landscape in a
way that is not possible when you are travelling at speed in an air-
conditioned car or boat.
The road between Brisbane and Port Douglas is remarkably flat and the
gentle southeasterly trade winds that blow between May and September
pushed me along. Only the occasional puncture and encounter with savage
dogs (but that's another whole story!) slowed me down. Exactly one
month after leaving Brisbane I cycled into Port Douglas to an
experience that even now several weeks later and thousands of
kilometres away is still vivid and sustaining.
My friend Robyn had booked me on a snorkelling tour to the Low Isles
aboard Shaolin, partly as a reward for 'not catching the bus', but
mostly as a celebration of my 43rd birthday! Low Isles is approximately
15 km north-east of Port Douglas and comprises a small vegetated sand
cay (Low Island), 2.7 hectares in area and a larger, coral and shingle
cay (Woody Island), 45 hectares in area, which lie at opposite ends of
a 200 hectare reef platform.
Shaolin was named after the orange robed, kung fu fighting Chinese
Buddhist monks. She has a special aura that you feel immediately you
board the boat. A statue of Buddha sits calmly on the rear deck
overseeing proceedings. Every time the boat goes to sea one of the crew
bring a flower as an offering to keep passengers and crew safe. Shaolin
means 'wooded hill or small forest' and the boat made from teak, vacal
and kalantis reflects its name. She was built in 1965 in Hongkong by a
retired American naval captain named Stone and was sailed by the
Captain and his wife Joyce until Captain Stone's death in 1983. She
then fell into disrepair before a Port Douglas local, Steve Broomhall,
who started the Low Isle charters, eventually purchased her. Shaolin
changed owners once more before being bought by Alex and Rick.
Alex Mateer experienced something of a seachange five years ago and
moved to Port Douglas from Glen Alice, in Central West NSW where she
had taught in a one-teacher school for many years. She originally
worked as a 'deckie' on Shaolin before deciding to buy the boat with
her partner Rick.
Rick Kilpatrick has always enjoyed 'mucking around' in boats and before
taking on Shaolin he worked for the Quicksilver tour company for 8
years at Agincourt reef where he lived and worked on the pontoon five
days on, two days off. Wiry and tanned from years in the outdoors, and
sporting a wonderful native American Indian 'dreamcatcher' tattoo he
immediately instills confidence.
Departure time is a very relaxed 12 noon. It was great to be able to
sleep in and then enjoy a leisurely breakfast after all the early
starts of the previous month. The day of my trip the weatherboard at
the marina predicted an almost breathless 5 knots. The sun was out and
it was a comfortable 26 degrees. With the ease that experience as a
teacher brings, Alex greeted passengers with genuine warmth, and served
iced tea and coffee before departure.
The boat seems to attract interesting people. On my trip two marine
biologists who study the environmental impacts of oil spills from
shipwrecks were on board. It's as if the boat has a hand in picking its
passengers. I'm sure it picked me. The maximum number of passengers is
24, but more often than not numbers are less and the trip is relaxed
and intimate. Quicksilver by way of comparison regularly carries up to
400 passengers at the height of the season.
We arrive at Low Isles on a rare day when the big tour boats aren't
running. It's completely deserted except for us. Visibility is so good
we can see the sandy bottom 8 metres below us clearly. Antipasto
platters and breads are set out for lunch.
After lunch we don our lycra suits as a precaution against stingers and
sunburn and Alex fits us with masks, snorkels and fins and gives us a
careful and detailed briefing on snorkelling, safety and the Low Isles
environment. Alex is passionate about protecting the environment and is
an active member of the Low Isles Preservation Society (LIPS). I learn
that Low Isles has special significance to coral reef science and is
unique in Australia. In 1928 Low Isles was the first site and base for
a year-long scientific survey into the structure and ecology of the
reef surrounding the isles. Many findings from this expedition have
provided the basis for our current understanding of coral reef biology.
Because it is a small group, we have the option of swimming from the
boat or riding in to shore in the 'glassy' (glass-bottomed boat). Robyn
and I choose to swim the 200 metres or so from the boat and follow the
rim of the reef as Alex suggests. The reef is remarkably unspoiled
given the number of visitors in any given year, and this is a testament
to the care of the new breed of commercial operators like Alex and
Rick. It hasn't always been that way but with greater understanding the
vulnerability and value of the reef is increasingly understood. The
biodiversity is immediately obvious. We count dozens of species of soft
and hard coral, seagrass, and fish. The colourful clown fish are my
favourites. About 100 metres from shore Robyn points out two giant
clams under the reef platform which take me back to my childhood and
the imaginary adventures I had in the local swimming pool after
watching Lloyd Bridges in episodes of Sea Hunt!
The indisputable highlight of the day is swimming with the turtles.
There are six species of marine turtles living in Australian waters.
They are true 'ancient mariners' and have been swimming in the oceans
for more than 150 million years. You get the sense that they have seen and
experienced it all. Swimming with the turtles is a joyful experience.
Following a beautiful green turtle at a respectful distance, it leads
me on a magical mystery tour amongst the coral as if it instinctively
knows just what I need to soothe away the rigours of the road and the
day to day stresses of my busy work load. I can't help but think we
have a lot to learn from the wisdom and generosity of these animals.
After my snorkel I relax on the sandy beach with my book and am visited
by a pair of varied honeyeaters, just one of the many permanent
residents of the sand island community. Late in the afternoon, I
reluctantly leave the beach. But the experience is not over yet!
There's a delicious afternoon tea of home make cakes and tropical
fruits fresh from the local market including rollina, black sapote,
rambutans, and mangosteins waiting for us on the boat.
Return is at sunset well after the other boats. With Shaolin under full
sail, it's quiet except for the sound of the wind in the rigging and
the gentle rhythmic slosh of the water against the hull. Sitting on the
bowsprit, glass of champagne in hand, feet dangling over the side as
the sky turns yellow, pink and finally deep red I drift off into my own
thoughts. The sound of the engines being turned on to motor the last
few miles into the marina gently brings me back. I know it will be hard
to leave.
As my plane slices through the clouds and emerges to cruise home at
30,000 ft I reflect that it took me a month to cover the distance
between Port Douglas and Brisbane on my bike. In the plane it will take
only 45 minutes! And I'II touch down in Hobart to a wintery 10 degrees
in just over 4 hours of flying time. But I relax knowing that as
busyness again takes hold I will return again and again in my mind to
the Low Isles on Shaolin reliving the magic of this special natural
wonder.
