Great Barrier Reef

This morning our first thoughts circled around the question “Are we going to the reef today?” Bryan mentioned he was quite relieved not to see a slip of paper underneath the door indicating that our excursion had been canceled. 

It turned out there was no bus, but we were taking a comparable excursion by boat out of Cairns. Looking around us and taking a quick head count told us that only twenty people from the whole cruise ship ended up being able to do the reef experience, as that is all the room Reef Magic III had available.

As soon as we got on the catamaran we signed up for diving and snorkeling tours. As I filled out my health and safety card, I honestly checked the “nervous about snorkeling today” box. As this is my first time snorkeling I felt nervous about not knowing exactly what to do. Although many people, including my mom, had told me “oh, you’re going to love snorkeling” I still felt anxious. 

Announcements were made giving general safety information followed by detailed instructions for what to do if you become ill. Move to the outside back of the boat to get fresh air. Crew members handed out sickbags liberally. Then they sat those of us planning to do the introductory scuba dive down backward on the floor, where there was room to give a little safety briefing.  Meanwhile, the boat was pitching wildly, the horizon jumping about out the windows streaming with sea spray. 

A few minutes later they announced we had been in a sheltered area and it was about to get choppy. Bryan and I laughed in surprise that what we had been experiencing was not the rough seas we were to expect. 

People began vomiting. Crew members donned gloves and assisted those who had become ill. We were grateful that we had taken Dramamine before leaving and seemed to be faring well, despite riding backwards and moving every which way. 

When our preliminary scuba skills training and safety briefing had concluded, we made our way up the lurching stairway, relying heavily on the handrails, and back to our forward facing seats. 

Water was dripping down from the ceiling above in places. After about forty more minutes of movement across the choppy seas, Bryan was feeling slightly worse for wear, and we were grateful when the pace slowed and we neared the pontoon. 

The weather was stormy. The water was choppy with white caps visible all over the place. We made our way from the rocky boat to the slightly more stable pontoon. We found wet suits, fins, and snorkels of the appropriate sizes and suited up to give snorkeling a try.  As we sat on the edge of the metal grate and I looked at the waves I told Bryan, “That’s the kind of water you try not to fall into if you are in a boat” incredulous that we were about to just swim out into it. 

As we snorkeled, water kept getting into my mask, and I would have to lift my head up to clear it. I was having difficulty relaxing, as looking around me when I raised my head I was surrounded by waves and what felt like hazardous swimming conditions. There were many people snorkeling in this area, and it was not uncommon for a wave to push you into another swimmer. 

I was trying to reign in my thoughts which were going something like “I hate this! This is awful!” and other similarly unhelpful observations about the sensations of water in my mask and the stinging of salt in my eyes. I left Bryan and went back in, asking for help with my mask. The snorkeling instructor adjusted my mask, said it looked good, and sent me back out. Another time one of the helpers gave us pool noodles and suggested an area with fewer swimmers. We kept trying. When I could focus for a few moments below me I saw coral waving in the current, schools of tiny fish, and also larger, vibrant fish among the coral below. As I would be looking at them, another gust would come and woosh! I would be moved abruptly two or three feet away without warning. I was horrified when one such wave pushed me into a shallow part of the reef and I made contact with it with my fin. I had not meant to touch it. They had told us emphatically not to touch it. 

All the while, every minute or so I would lift up my head, place my fingers on the bridge of my nose and exhale forcefully clearing my mask of the water building up. 

Finally it was nearing time to scuba and I was quite concerned that it would be filling up with water during our dive, so I switched the mask. It was much better! I could keep my face looking into the water without any ending up beneath my eyes. Such a relief. 

Then it was time for our dive.  Our cheery, calm guide, smiled at us and spoke encouragingly as she suited us up. I felt that I trusted her, and I decided to imagine it was my friend Lisa taking us for a dive. First she put on the weighted belt. Next the “backpack” with the air tank, regulator, and so forth.  There were with a brother and sister who were also taking their first dive at the same time as us. 

The dive instructor, Andie, ran us through the skills. We kneeled down on the grate so we were under the water for these tests to make sure it would be safe to take us for a dive. Behind her, shoals of fish were swimming. Probably taking advantage of the fish feeding that was happening by at the same time. This was a bit distracting but I tried to focus on her instruction of the skills. 

One of the skills is to clear your mask of water, so she intentionally breaks the seal to let water in, and we show her that we can clear it as she has taught us. The young woman to Bryan’s right could not clear it, and became frightened and stood up. She was given another chance. She couldn’t do it. So she did not test on any of the other skills, and wasn’t able to dive with us. Now, I have a theory about my broken mask from earlier. I think the Lord knew that, feeling quite anxious about the whole situation, I was going to need a lot of extra practice overcoming the panic that can ensue when that water runs down into the mask, and he gave me all the time I needed to face that fear and figure it out. So when she let the water in, I cleared it as I had been doing all morning, and though I didn’t love the feeling, I was able to be successful and continue. 

During the final skill test, I watched Andie model the skill, and then it was my turn. I took the regulator out of my mouth, blew out gently as I purposely let go of the regulator, caught it again, placed it back in my mouth and pushed the button to clear the water out. Andie looked at me expectantly. “What?” I thought “I had completed all the steps just like her. Out, drop, catch, back in, clear… what is she waiting for?”  Realization dawned and I took a breath. I had forgotten to resume breathing. The one lousy rule they had been pounding into our heads this whole time was to not stop breathing and here I had forgotten. Oops! 

After completing the skills tests, Andie informed us that she couldn’t regulate. (Meaning she would not be able to descend in a way that was safe for her ears.) She had to send another instructor down with us instead. She let Dean know that we had all done great on our skills and were ready for our first dive. I felt less comfortable with Dean, as we hadn’t spent half an hour with him already. (And, I must admit, because he didn’t resemble my friend Lisa in the least.)

As we waited for them to swap out I removed my hand from the bar and a wave pushed me roughly back. Andie helped me regain a hold on the bar while we waited for Dean to suit up. Then she wished us a good dive, apologizing she could not take us down herself, and Dean took her place in front of us. 

He told us it was time to go down, and had us position ourselves near the ropes we would be holding onto as we descended. “Who’s first?” he said, looking steadily right at me. “Nope!” I thought. Thankfully, the young man on our right stepped forward. I put my head below the water and watched as he went down. 

Next Bryan went down. Finally it was my turn. Dean extended his hand and helped me down. I paused to regulate, by plugging my nose and blowing against it to keep the pressure from bothering my ears. Dean used the hand signals we had practiced above. “Okay?” He signaled. Me: “okay.”  “Down” he signaled. I moved myself down, uncomfortable with the feeling in my ears. This time when he signaled “okay” I signaled “I have a problem” and pointed to my ears. He modeled tipping my head back and forth. I did, and was able to fix the issue. 

And then he linked my arm around Bryan’s and it was time to swim out into the water and see the things we had come so far and paid so much to see. We kicked our flippers and moved forward in a straight line, and as I looked at the fish around us I heard the strangely loud sound of my breathing, as the bubbles rose. “Am I breathing right?” I wondered. The photographer approached and began taking photos. When she waved, I mimicked the gesture as they had instructed earlier in the day. 

Suddenly, Dean was unlinking my arm from Bryan, pulling him away from me. The photographer took my arm instead and I tried to see what was going on. “I only know one person down here and they just took him away. What’s happening? Did something go wrong?” I couldn’t see him at first. It was difficult to see what was happening behind me due to the push and pull of the current and the direction in which the photographer was swimming us. Finally I could see. Bryan’s weight belt had began to slide off of him, and there was Dean wrestling with him and the belt trying to get it back into place. The photographer kept signing “he” “okay.” He’s okay. He’s fine.  Then she distracted us with a selfie with her giant, underwater camera. 

Before long we were off, kicking our flippers and swimming again, linked, arm in arm. The friendly large Māori Wrasse fish named Wally came over and began to swim near us. We got good looks at the huge fish. It was really cool. The photographer kept snapping photos and I was thinking “Am I really doing this?”

Then we swam closer to the coral. We got a good look at the coral, anemones, and fish. Then it was time to swim back and climb back up the rope to the surface. 

Back on the pontoon we found out our snorkel safari had been canceled due to the weather conditions being too bad for the small boat to take us out to the starting point. Relieved that we were not about to hop back in the water without lunch, we made our way to the buffet. It was closing down, but they plated up some rice and curry for us. We sat at one of the wet metal tables and ate our food as the rain came down all around and the wind blew it under the cover. 

“Were you scared?” I asked Bryan. “No. Were you?” I nodded, eyes wide. “It was scary.” Unaccustomed to being frightened of activities we encounter when traveling I tried to put my finger on what exactly I was frightened of. “I’m not afraid of swimming.” I said, thinking it through. “No, but this breaks most of the rules of swimming.” Bryan reasoned. “Fear of breaking the rules?” I ventured. We both laughed. “That must be it.” 

The conditions for snorkeling were even worse than they had been earlier in the day, and the designated snorkeling area was still chaotically full of swimmers. We opted to call it a day. We got in line for a dressing room. The lines were long and we were advised there were more dressing rooms upstairs. There was one. After waiting in line, we found that it was somewhat open to the roof and as the pontoon moved with the waves and the wind blew, water was streaming down inside. It was like trying to change into dry clothes in shower that turned on and off intermittently. I do not recommend the experience. 

We rested and talked, ate a bit of a snack, and braved the choppy voyage back. We got our money from the canceled snorkeling tour refunded, and then turned right back around and spent the money on those pictures of us scuba diving. 

I am so grateful we got to do this. I learned something new about myself and had the opportunity to be courageous. And we got to see the reef while it still exists. I have zero regrets. 

I do wonder if with more training and experience I would be able to relax while scuba diving. Or, perhaps it is similar to how Bryan feels about heights, and the sensation of discomfort and anxiety would continue to be automatic for me under those circumstances. 

I really love the idea of exploring more under the water. The creatures there are fascinating. We serve such an amazing Creator who imagined all these things!