Travel Biography - Week 81.

All the photos posted here are my own, taken in 1997.

I continue with my newly-found fascination with the Great Barrier Reef as indeed the highlight of the 1997 Round-the-World backpacking experience. After arriving in Singapore for a five-day rest stop, I then landed at Cairns Airport and found a suitable hostel, the YHA Cairns Esplanade. From there, I visited Green Island, a coral cay suitable for first-time visitors to the Reef.

After that, I took a Quicksilver catamaran to Port Douglas, a tropical resort further north along the coast. On that occasion, I remained on shore, exploring the town centre, swimming in the sea, and enjoying a free concert held at a green backing the palm-tree-lined esplanade.

Approaching Low Isle Coral Cay from Port Douglas.

Neighbouring Woody Island of the Low Isles.

The sailing to the Low Isles.

The next day, I boarded the same catamaran at Cairns Harbour for Port Douglas. After arriving there, it was easy to change boats at its harbour. I boarded a smaller catamaran for Low Isles, another cay, or key, on the northern Reef.

Unlike with the Big Cat to Green Island from Cairns, there was no prep-talk. But, like on the Big Cat, there was a kiosk where snorkels were hired out. Also, single-use underwater cameras were on sale, like the one I used at Green Island. Back at the table, I examined the camera I had just bought and noticed a scratch mark on the waterproof outer cover directly in front of the lens. Immediately, I returned the faulty item to the kiosk. The assistant looked embarrassed as if I rumbled his attempt to rid his stock of a substandard product. He quickly took it off me and gave me a replacement with no further ado.

After a thirty-minute sailing from Port Douglas, the boat moored just off the beach at Low Isle. The whole group alighted and waded across the short way to the beach. When we arrived, the tide was partially out, as by scrutinising the beach, I saw that during a high king tide, almost the entire beach was covered, the waves of the sea gently lapping at the tropical vegetation covering the island. It was on this beach where I swapped the black singlet I wore for the journey to a button-up shirt to protect my back from the sunshine.

I changed from the black singlet to a button-up.

Wearing the snorkel, I took to the water straight away. There was no initial hesitation like I felt at Green Island. Rather, I saw that the sea surrounding Low Isle was deeper than at Green Island. Thus, the corals grew taller, more densely populated, and generally a richer environment, making it more ideal for scuba diving. Furthermore, this particular region seemed unaffected by the Crown-of-Thorns starfish which devastated the areas around Green Island. As it was, there wasn't a square centimetre of bare rock seen anywhere!

The most common coral species I saw is known as the Acropora, a hard coral that plays a major role in reef-building. Acropora is a general name that applies to several subspecies. Such variants add variety to the reef that I find mind-blowing! Also, Stylophora and Seriatopora were spotted, as well as other species.

Whether I was unlucky or not, I saw very few free-swimming fish among the reefs. That was something disappointing, but I didn't allow any negative thinking to spoil such a rare, wonderful experience.

How long I remained partially submerged, taking photos of the spectacular seabed, I couldn't say, but it was long enough for a fellow snorkeller to approach me to remind me that for the last half-hour or so, lunch was served at the catamaran. So I joined him as we made our way to the boat, where on deck, what was left of the spread still remained. The buffet was free for the taking, as it was included in the price of the ticket.

There was enough food left over to adequately fill a plate. I then sat with the rest of the group on deck. I rested a little further to digest the meal before heading back into the water with some of the others. The fascination I had for the corals veiled any desire to explore the island. Low Isle is smaller in size than Green Island, and it has just one building, the lighthouse. Unlike at Green Island, there was no hotel or swimming pool, but the lushness of the vegetation covering the mound would have given a boardwalk, if there was one, an exceptional experience. However, instead, after lunch I returned to exploring the corals, this time the seafloor being further down from the surface, as the tide was rising.

By late afternoon, we were all summoned back to the catamaran for the sailing back to Port Douglas. With a single-use underwater full of undeveloped images, I felt elated. Once the boat had set on course, one of the staff members appeared on deck with a guitar. Sitting near the bow, he began to play and sing to a delighted and rested audience.

Example of Acropora Coral.

Another species of Acropora Coral. 

At Port Douglas, the Quicksilver catamaran was waiting for us to board to take us back to Cairns. After arriving safely back in Cairns, I went to the same photography shop I had called before to have the film in the waterproof camera developed. With the laid-back culture of Australia, chatting about where I went and what I did that day came easy. She seemed impressed with my adventures and happily agreed to have the film processed by the end of the hour. The result snapshots of Low Isle Reef are posted here. In the meantime, I returned to the hostel to cook dinner.

Later that evening, I was delighted with the underwater pics, and together with those of Green Island, I carefully packed them away in the rucksack pocket where they would be safe.

Preparing for the onward journey.

When I initially planned this holiday, I was wondering whether I could pattern Australian travel to that of the USA. Indeed, there were schemes laid out for the travelling backpacker, and while the air ticket was booked, I also bought the Australian version of the Ameripass (although it wasn't called Austrapass, or anything equivalent.) On sale were several bus passes. The full pass, covering the whole of Australia was quite expensive for a month's use. But a pass valid for a week or two weeks was available. However, a week, two-week or a month pass could be purchased that covered only the Indo-Pacific Highway along the east coast from Cairns to Sydney, perhaps as far as Melbourne. A month's bus pass for that particular highway was considerably cheaper, and I made sure my budget covered a full month.

A mix of Coral Species, Low Isle.

Stylophora Coral at the centre.

The beautiful white Acropore

It was the right choice I made. The strip on the east side of the Great Divide was the most interesting and the most attractive part of the whole landmass, except Ayers Rock, on the Outback which is bang in the middle of the island continent. If I had never met and married Alex, visiting Ayers Rock, locally known as Urulu, would have been on the cards during the proposed second Round-the-World trip for the year 2000.

Like in the States, Greyhound Australia is an Interstate bus service on which my travel pass was valid. I chose Townsville as my next stop. It's 347 km or 216 miles further south along the Queensland coast, and it's the gateway to Magnetic Island, called after the 18th Century Captain Cook's ship compass went awry while sailing past the island in 1770. A 6.5-hour bus journey provided the ideal overnight travel.

If the bus pass I held was valid for a month, how was it that I managed to stay in Australia for nearly six weeks? That wasn't difficult to work out. After arriving in Australia, I stayed in Cairns for five days and four nights. On the fifth day, after checking out of the hostel, I had my pass validated. However, I spent eleven days in Sydney (including a night spent in Katoomba) hence, after arriving in Sydney, I still had a couple of days' validity on my bus pass before leaving Australia for Los Angeles.

In Cairns, I only spent two full days in the city, the first day of arrival and the last day before leaving for Townsville. After checking out of the hostel, I made my way with the rucksack over my shoulders, to the Cairns Bus Station in the city. Sometime between one and two in the morning, the bus pulled out as I saw Cairns for the last time. And like with Singapore, my heart felt heavy. Looking back, For me, Cairns was the best stop I stayed at, not only in Australia but in the whole Round-the-World venture. The reason for that was simple. Cairns was not only the base city for the Great Barrier Reef, but it was one of the closest settlements to the Reef.

A boat crew member sings on his guitar.

In 1997, the entire Greyhound Bus fleet in Australia had all spanking new vehicles, and each bus was kept scrupulously clean. Therefore, unlike in the USA, eating food on board was strictly forbidden, regardless of the length of the journey. But like in the States, there were on-route service breaks where the bus stopped for maintenance, including the need to refuel, while we passengers were allowed to refresh ourselves in the station cafeteria. However, on the takeaway shelves, there were no appetising or tempting snacks to take back on board, but row after row of Polo mints, boiled sweets, and any other confection that doesn't melt in your hand. These were the only type of food allowed on the Australian Greyhound Bus.

Daylight broke as the bus neared Townsville. As always, the sky was clear from clouds as the sun rose from the horizon. Presently, Townsville came into view, and the city was made prominent by the presence of the twin granite monoliths of Castle Hill, rising 286 metres above sea level and giving a backing to the city skyline.

By the time I refreshed myself at the bus station, the nearby YHA hostel had woken up. However, much to my surprise, all the beds were already taken for the following night. I was left to look elsewhere. This wasn't the first time either, as I was told by the receptionist at Cairns that the YHA in Port Douglas was fully booked up. Indeed, I must have been fortunate to find a bed so easily after landing at Cairns. And so, the good old bed hunting method was underway as I searched for accommodation in Townsville. Furthermore, this wasn't the last time I was turned away from a YHA hostel in Australia.

Laden with the rucksack, I walked through the streets of Townsville. It was larger than Cairns and not as focused on the Reef as Cairns and Port Douglas were. Eventually, I came across what looked like a backpacker's hostel that was privately owned and not affiliated with YHA Australia or any other association.

I entered and approached the reception. Yes, there was a bed available. I accepted and made my way to the assigned dormitory. Removing the rucksack from my shoulders next to an unoccupied bed was a great relief.

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Next Week: The Townsville stop and a Ferry to Magnetic Island.

Travel Biography - Week 80.

YHA Australia compared to traditional YHA England & Wales.

The Youth Hostel Association of Australia was more like in America than in the UK, as Down Under, each hostel was privately owned and affiliated with the YHA. In the UK, each property is owned by the association. They hired wardens, usually a married couple, to manage the hostel, including assigning duties to every hosteller to keep down the running costs. Also, the lights out was at 11.00pm. In its heyday, hostels were for city youngsters from deprived backgrounds to experience the open countryside. In many larger hostels in the UK, the lounge doubled as a classroom for the students to study fieldwork.

In recent years, as clientele were older, more independent, and had money. Unless the duty was done away with, the YHA was under threat of collapse. Hence, the "Youth Hostel" became "Backpacker's Retreats" and the warden became the receptionist. By catering for adults rather than schoolchildren, the YHA survived a changing world.

Woody Isle and Low Isle. Stock photo.

In Australia, the YHA had a "Dollar or Duty" scheme, where a customer was given a choice of either a higher payment or a duty. In 1997, of all the Aussie hostels I stayed at, I was asked only once, at Byron Bay. Naturally, I was willing to pay the extra dollar for each night. And apparently, so did everyone else, as throughout my entire stay in Australia, I have not seen a single duty carried out.

By 1997, most hostels had given up offering the Dollar or Duty choice. Nobody was going to choose the household chore just to save a dollar per night. And so, in Cairns, its Esplanade Hostel was basically a cheap hotel, but one with self-catering facilities. 

Leaving Cairns for Port Douglas.

However, with this casual, laid-back attitude of the hostel staff, I was kept awake around three in the morning by the sound of canoodling in the bathroom, which was close to my bed. As I lay in bed with my eyes open and amidst the gentle snoring of others around, it was easy for me to realise what was happening. With a plethora of nightclubs in town, it wasn't above board for a drop of alcohol to encourage one of our fellow hostellers to bring back a tipsy young female and frolic where they thought no one could see or hear them.

Eventually, I dropped off to sleep. After daybreak, aware that I wanted to board a catamaran to Port Douglas, a  town and holiday resort sixty km or 37 miles north along the Queensland coast. This was in readiness to visit Low Isles, a coral cay around 15.5 miles off the mainland seashore. However, for my first visit, I decided to remain in Port Douglas, swim in the sea (if possible) and check out the town and its esplanade.

With the forthcoming trip in mind, I was the first in our dormitory to arise. Forgetting what happened in the night, I made my way to the bathroom, as I didn't want to wait around for others to finish. As I pushed the door open, I startled the couple clutched in an unusual position at one corner.

Why the heck have you disturbed us? the young man asked with some annoyance.

Disturb you? I responded. You kept me awake at three this morning! There is the beach outside! I exclaimed firmly, pointing in the direction of the esplanade.

The couple was shocked, if not horrified by my brazen response. Come, let's get out of here! They then stormed out of the hostel, leaving me alone in the bathroom. I never saw them again.

The Catamaran sped past Double Island.

Four-Mile Beach, Port Douglas

The First Visit to Port Douglas.

After breakfast, I made my way to Cairns Harbour. At the shopping mall, I bought a return ticket for the Quicksilver catamaran sailing to Port Douglas. This vessel was larger than the Big Cat to Green Island and less formal. There was no prep-talk, rather this was a ferry service between two points.

It took about an hour for the catamaran to cover the distance, which surprisingly enough, was slower than the coastal bus ride to the same destination. On the way out, there was a brief stop at Clifton Beach, a strip of sand lining the coast from where a lone jetty jutting out of the thick forest covering the coastal slope of the Great Dividing Range, roughly halfway along the journey. However, the return journey back to Cairns Harbour was non-stop. Also, during the sailing, the catamaran passed Double Island, the forested twin peaks of what was once a high hill rising from the land shelf before submersion, leaving the peaks as an island off the mainland coast.

The catamaran eventually moored at Port Douglas Harbour, from where a connecting catamaran was due to leave for the Low Isles. This time, I didn't board the second vessel but sauntered off to explore the environment.

The Four-Mile Beach was a strip of sand covering a long, sweeping bay, quite unlike at Cairns, which had a mudflat for a beach. The beach was backed by palm trees, giving a tropical feel to the coast. I stripped to my shorts and plunged into the sea. This time, I didn't want to allow my awareness of sharks to overcome me as it did at Mission Beach in San Diego two years earlier. Instead, I went in and enjoyed a good swim.

Beach at Port Douglas.

Port Douglas Esplanade

Backing the esplanade with its row of palm trees, there was an area of open space. On the far side of the park from the esplanade, there was a live band, and an audience had assembled in front of the stage to listen to and enjoy the music. However, during the performance, a group of youths, not far from where I was sitting, were larking about, and one threw an egg at the stage, splattering it. Immediately, the music stopped and the lead singer, who saw who the culprit was, angrily ordered the whole gang to come over and clean up the mess. We all watched as the humiliated group got to work under the eye of the lead singer.

Later, I strolled into the town centre and looked around the main shopping mall. The indoor mall was cool and refreshing from the warm sunshine outside. I also saw that the town was smaller than Cairns, but looked to have more diving schools than its larger sister. Like Cairns, Port Douglas was an ideal base for divers and snorkelers visiting the Great Barrier Reef, namely, Low Isles Coral Cay and the Outer Reef. 

However, I did have one regret. That was regretting not boarding the second catamaran for the Low Isles snorkelling tour. The trip I made to Green Island and glided over the corals surrounding the cay has converted me from a casual inquirer to a Reef fanatic. And I was determined, one way or another, to visit another coral cay and compare one with the other. Low Isles suited the bill exactly.

By the evening, I was on the Quicksilver catamaran, heading back to Cairns Harbour. Again, that evening, after I had dinner at the member's dining room, I went out for an after-dark stroll. I shunned the nightclubs with their tempting efforts to entice me into their bars, and instead, I strolled along the esplanade, gazing up at the Southern Cross Constellation shining through a clear night sky as the white band of the Milky Way streaking across the heavens. 

Another view of the Esplanade

Port Douglas Shopping Mall.

The Second Sailing to Port Douglas and onward to Low Isles Coral Cay.

The next morning, after a shower and breakfast, I made my way to the mall, and I saw the same Quicksilver catamaran waiting in the harbour. I was late, and avoiding the queue at the booking kiosk, I went straight to the vessel and boarded. There was a ticket reception on board and approaching, I asked the assistant whether I could buy a day return ticket for the Low Isles. She was happy to oblige, and I bought the ticket. I then sat at a table and took advantage of the free coffee and biscuits on offer. Then I made my way up to the deck and from there, watched as the catamaran pulled out of the harbour.

The ride was the same as that of the previous day. The catamaran stopped at Clifton Beach before resuming its journey to Port Douglas. Once on arrival, I was taken aback by the absence of the connecting Quicksilver to the cay, which was identical to the one I had just disembarked. Instead, a smaller catamaran, not very different to the Big Cat, was awaiting us to board. Although I was curious, it was someone nearby who asked a staff member why there was a change in boats. The explanation he received was that the vessel normally used on this trip was in for maintenance, and this smaller catamaran was to temporarily replace it.

Actually, this could be to my advantage that we were about to board a smaller vessel. The larger the boat, the less of a family feel to it. In a smaller vessel, I no longer felt like a lone traveller. Instead, I felt more part of a family. All of us, perhaps around a dozen, all with one purpose in mind - to glide effortlessly over the corals making up the reef surrounding the island. This feeling of being part of a family was enhanced on the journey back to Port Douglas from the Cay. On deck, a staff member took out his guitar and reclining, sang songs to all within earshot.

Although I refer to Low Isles in the plural, this is actually a misnomer. Indeed, there are two coral cay islands, and each has its own name. The larger of the two is not open to the public. Known as Woody Island, it's covered with mangrove vegetation. This seems to mean that during high tide, especially spring, or king tides, the mound itself is covered, but the tops of the mangrove trees remain above water. This gives the appearance of a forest growing straight out of the sea. The smaller of the two is a cay proper, covered with tropical vegetation befitting an island that remains above water, even during the highest of king tides. It could be said that it is a smaller version of Green Island with identical vegetation covering it and holding the mound together. Its proper name is Low Isle (in the singular).

The islands are 15.5 miles or 25 km from the mainland. This is significant, as it's 2.5 miles, or roughly four km closer to the mainland than Green Island, which is 18 miles out. It shows that the Great Barrier Reef isn't exactly parallel with the Queensland coastline. Rather, the further south one travels, the further out the whole barrier seems to "drift away" from the mainland coast. One example of this phenomenon is Heron Island Coral Cay on the southern Reef. It's 80 km or 50 miles out from Gladstone, on the mainland coast.

We alighted from the boat, which was anchored close to the beach of Low Isle. A short wade and I was standing on the beach consisting of coarse sand and broken shells. However, having learned from the Green Island experience, I stripped off the black singlet I was wearing and put on a button-up shirt to protect my back from possible sunburn while snorkelling.

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Next Week: I explore the reefs of Low Isle before starting my journey to the next stop.