Bearish Bumbles

08/04: Summary of Airlie Beach

Category: Bumbling | Posted by: Cads

I'm flying over the eastern edge of the BFA trying to make head or tails of the last 3-4 days. Nausea, fear, adrenaline, chattin', partying and chillaxin' in equal parts mixed with an otherworldly dreamstate. The Whitsundays are beautiful in their remote accessibility. The white sand squeaks with the unaccustomed pockmarks of unheeding feet treading over it, while eyes stare out to the sea. The sun is gently brutal, leaving you sore and tired - spent. The whole experience can be backpacker raucous and Robinson Crusoe peaceful, and every shade inbetween all at exactly the same time.

Airlie Beach is a small town that thrives on the need of every student and midlife bum to take time out and drop off the grid. The only thing missing is the surf, but you can catch a wave at one end of town on a friday, and with some luck, ride it all the way through to the wee hours. On the other hand, you can gently watch the tide of people surge back and forth from the safety of the restaurant veranda, leaving the strenous stuff to others.

Like most places that have this sort of transient clientele, there's little to do other than party, but the activities out on the water make up for it. Jetskiing gives a buzz that is part horse riding and all rollercoaster. Having your girl's hands on your hips as you power the machine over the waves at up to 60kph, hearing her squeal yelp and laugh behind you is the best of life in a squeeze of the throttle. Control is dubious at best and the unpredictability leaves you with a sense of adventure even at the lowest revs. Definitely one of my favourite moments ever.

It's obvious from our joint posting that the first night on board our sailing adventure was probably one of the low points (God, I hope so) of the trip. The fact that both of the party ended up spending time revisiting old meals has more to say about the cooking expertise of the resort chef than it does about the welcome on Anaconda III. I can't be complimentary enough about the Anaconda III crew. The boat has seen better days (and the interior doesn't look that much - or at all - like the photos on its website), but last week they went to the aid of a vessel on fire, and everyone mucks in to help out everyone else. There's a lot of Pom and Aussie ribbing of both crew and passengers. For a mix of people from 70 to 19, there were only a couple of oddities, and we had a GREAT time without even taking into account whales, islands, blue water, white sand and night dives. Ice breaking games at the end of the trip were there as just a bit of fun because frankly the ice was well and truly shattered and being put to better use in metaphorical cocktail glasses!

We spent the first morning out at Whitehaven beach (bring GOOD sunglasses and sunscreen). This is the white sandy beach on the postcards, the travel shows and the backdrop to all proper tropical islands. The water is clear and blue over fishladen reefs (reeves?) with white-hulled sailboats keeping a respectful distance from lazing sunworshippers and wetsuited snorkellers. There was no better way to start the road to health than to be just gently massaged into relaxation by the salt air and the lap of ant-surf against the beach.

Sleeping on and off in our bunks for the rest of the day probably set us up well for our day out on the Reef. It's Blue, it's full of currents, fish, coral, depth, shoals, turtles, white clouds of experience. There is no land like the reef. It is not sea, it is not land, it is not air - it is. This is the edge of the world and the start of experience. It hangs in the time between heartbeats and gives pause to thought. At 15m below the surface a turtle peacefully savages a jellyfish with languid viciousness. The silent menace of a shark strolls past overhead and a steady stream of bubbles from a regulator provides a rhythm section for the song of whales in the distance.

The second dive is as raw and new as the first. The current pulls us along a wall of popcorn and brains. Purple clams blink their eyes and red and ochre flashes brightly on each side as we hang in a huge swimthrough. Every glance is a new taste of the world, every kick puts us closer to something intangible. It's hard to write a good description of the reef. There aren't really ways to explain what each individual comes back with. Emma and I have separate complementary feelings about it and our dive buddies equally say that it's all about "the feeling of diving on the reef".

Seeing the reef during the day did nothing at all to prepare us for diving onto coral at night. Feeling like neoprene ninjas we sped out to a coral bay and dropped into darkness. The fear ripped away as soon as we hit the water with our lights penetrating deep into the black. It was so comfortable and comforting with our raver glowsticks stuck to our tanks like a cheap science fiction effect. Coral colours are apparently more "real" and "true" when seen with artificial light at night. What I can say is they are more vivid, and even the brown and yellows of the coral are brighter and almost luminescent. I wouldn't trade that experience for anything. For me, night dives are the "Dark SafeandScary".

We finished off our trip around the whitsundays snorkelling because you can't dive and fly within 24 hours unless you either do some horrendous maths or have a pulmonary problem of some (painful and often fatal) kind. We spent our time back at the Organic B&B. Wonderful rooms with the option of an organic 3-course breakfast in the morning after boat bunks (which are being refitted next week in Townsville, according to Ryan, ships engineer and carpenter!) are a welcome relief!