Like women and left-handed screwdrivers, the ocean has always fascinated me. It’s a place you can go to clear your head and enjoy all it has to offer – not unlike a pub, but free.
My life has always involved the sea. Saltwater – fishing and surfing – has been a staple part of my diet. I just love it.
Living in Perth was a great opportunity to take advantage of one thing I hadn’t done before – swimming with whale sharks. Now, I’d lived with a few monsters in a few old roomies, but I’d never swum with one outside of cage-diving with great whites in South Africa. That kept me on my toes, but I was in a controlled environment.
The whale sharks, however, this was open water stuff. And while the big fellas are harmless – unless they accidentally swallow you whole – it’s normal to be a little fearful of something so massive. That’s what she said . . .
It’s the biggest shark in the world, with a mouth like a tractor shed with the door blown off. Fortunately, badgers are off the menu.
Anyhow, we left Perth early one Friday morning during a break in rugby activities. Exmouth is a fair mission, about 12 hours, and you’d need a cut lunch and a thermos for the trip – much the same package they should’ve given to the jockey of the last horse I backed. The poor bloke’s still trotting.
Our mode of transport was the ever-reliable Bulldog – my 2005 blue Rodeo ute. It was my pride and joy, and your first is always that little more special. The Bulldog didn’t possess air conditioning but that’s what God made windows for. Roaring along the highway there was no need to stop for tucker, just stick your head out the window and open your mouth.
We arrived at Exmouth fairly shagged, threw our gear into our humpy and hired a scooter. We grabbed this little PeeWee 50 and burned off towards Turquoise Bay for the sunset. As usual, the WA sunset was unreal. If you live on the east coast, do yourself a favour and put it on your bucket list.
We enjoyed the sunset but not so much the journey home when we realised the PeeWee 50 was not an adequate form of transport when faced with a kangaroo head-on. This big bastard had clackas like cannonballs, an absolute monster. The sort of thing you’d get if Dr Frankenstein genetically modified Skippy.
He did not move. He just stood there in the middle of the road with that ‘you want some of this’ look! Well, I didn’t want any of what he had to offer so we gave him a wide berth.
It was now pretty dark as we headed back to our digs in Exmouth. Then all of a sudden this large, bright pulsating light came down from the stars. It did some zigging and some zagging and disappeared below the horizon. I believe there are things out there we don’t understand and can’t explain – like the popularity of light beer. I’ve seen heaps of satellites and meteorites but this wasn’t one of those critters!
If it was a UFO it had better not go near that roo because I know who’d come out in front! And that could ruin earth’s interstellar reputation as a peaceful planet.
Next day, the shuttle bus pulled up dead on time. Most of the passengers for the trip were Japanese, and mate, were they excited. Our guide was a little how ya goin’. He confused the hell out of our northern neighbours, especially when he offered them their choice of lunch – road kill or dolphin!? I didn’t know if this was a Mickey Mouse outfit or if it was ridgy didge.
Fortunately, it was fair dinkum and they were on the case.
The boat works in conjunction with a floatplane, which radios the coordinates of the oncoming whale sharks to the boat. The boat then pulls up in the path of these monsters about 180 metres ahead.
Then, one was spotted! Only a small one of about five metres but that was good enough for me. So on went the snorkelling gear and over the side we went full of glee.
But just as we leapt in, the radio crackled another message. It was a false alarm – it wasn’t a whale but a bloody tiger shark! And a bloody big one at five metres!
‘Get ’em out! It’s a tiger shark,’ the radio exclaimed. I didn’t need to be told twice, as I performed my own walking-on-water miracle.
You think I was scared? You should have seen the poor tour guide trying to round up our Japanese friends, who seemed oblivious to the situation. They had no idea they were about to appear in a new television show called ‘Reverse Sushi’.
Thankfully, they picked up on the urgency and scampered back on deck. The radio crackled again with new coordinates and we were away. An eight-metre whale shark, just a young-un, was on its way and so were we. This was a fairly small one as they can get up to 18 metres along the Mexican coast.
We stopped and leapt in. The water was darkish blue, clean as, and barely had we hit the water when this giant mouth broke the surface. Several of our Asian neighbours lost their cool as this massive big bastard fronted up. A few were probably worried about payback!
The mouth of a whale shark is like a big net, which funnels down to a small opening of about 200 millimetres. This is where the plankton, krill and other small and unfortunate sea creatures end up.
The woman in charge of the boat urged everyone to keep out of the path of the shark because even though they look slow they can really move. Like at a strip club, we were not allowed to touch them, mostly because there have been instances where divers’ legs have been caught up in the great beasts’ mouths.
We had a few hours out there and everyone was absolutely astounded by the incredible creatures. The way back to port was as you’d expect – amazing coral and beautiful fish.
I wasn’t exactly looking forward to returning to shore, given we were staying in some pretty average digs – a tin-roofed shed in the guts of summer in northwestern WA.
It was so hot that during the night I had to turn over so I could be done evenly on both sides.
We slid out of the cot early a.m., which was easy because we were like bacon to greasy frypans. The PeeWee 50 kicked over first go and we sped back down to the beach for one last lash.
We climbed into the Bulldog around mid-morning to begin the big journey back to Perth. The whole way home I couldn’t help but think what a buzz it had been and a new idea for a bumper sticker: Save a whale, harpoon a prop forward.
Feeling like a rock star.
When the air-con’s crapped itself and it’s hotter than a flatscreen TV in a pawn shop.