Wrecked!

I never knew how inexplicably gut-wrenching sea-sickness could feel. There I was, crouched at the back of the charter boat, willing my concentration to my gaze as far as the horizon would stretch, as exhilarating memories of my previous dive at the Red Sea flashed through my mind. I persuaded myself, while suppressing an oncoming wave of nausea, that this boat ride would be worth all the distress and discomfort. Well, it just had to be. Yet, for what seemed like a lack of good 'ol sailor's luck, our outward bound voyage was almost unbearable despite the lovely morning sun-shine and spectacular view of the cobalt blue ocean. Minutes seemed to drag on slowly and almost excruciatingly, against my waning anticipation as the boat rocked its way across the choppy waves in the direction of Australia’s rare and exquisite sunken ship

The diver’s Mecca, S.S Yongala

We had been briefed earlier with a short historical account of the ship by Steve, a well-chiselled English lad, who in my opinion, looked too incredibly young to be a Course Director. For the most I could recall and bits of information on the website, the ill-fated fortress was discovered almost 50 years later in 1958, a few nautical miles off the coast of the Great Barrier Marine Park, where she had been hit by a tropical cyclone and subsequently sunk to her demise. As part of strict conservation efforts to protect marine biodiversity, the dive site is limited to 12 divers a day. This enforced exclusivity allows privileged lucky divers to enjoy the underwater life in quiet seclusion without accelerating the deterioration of the delicate coral reef itself.

Steve had described in intimate detail, the structure of the vessel, outlining the route we were to follow within the estimated window of time that was allowed for this dive. There was nothing else that registered from the morning briefing apart from Steve’s voice, which pleasantly trailed past our ears as we fantasized about huge fishes and colourful corals that thrived within the pristine clear waters. ooh lala....

And thankfully we arrived at the dive site, before the 3 of us could regurgitate the contents of our morning breakfasts into the sea. Not wanting to waste another sickening minute feeling squeamish on the boat, we geared up, strapped on our BCDs snorkel and fins and plunged straight into the water.

Tragedy. Beauty.

I could not make sense of any other thoughts as we descended further down the line and gathered around the rudder of the wreck. It was a fantastic start, despite the initial effort to propel downwards into the strong currents without consuming too much air. At the shallower depth of the vessel (15m), we were already overwhelmed by the abundance of tropical luxuriance. There was this Lady, in all its historical old-world splendour, resting peacefully on her starboard side. She was heavily encrusted all over with soft and hard corals, gorgonians, sponges and clusters of sea anemone, like a submerged piece of jewelled Eden outstretched across the ocean floor, emanating this sense of somewhat mystic Lord-of-the-Rings kind of ephemeral quality that beckoned us to come closer to explore.

We prowled through the shallower depths, peering through every nook and cranny of the vessel’s remnants that had become colonized by crustaceans and invertebrates, snapperfish, batfish, giant trevally, maori wrasse, queensland groupers. We even sighted the ocassional olive green and highly venomous banded sea snake dwelling within tassels of seaweed.

As most divers say, every dive is unique and special.

Because it leaves an unforgettable distinctive impression which changes you in some way or another, regardless of whether it was a highly enjoyable or a godawfully crap one. I suppose one of the reasons that got me hooked onto this sport itself would be the undeniable feeling of awesome vastness of the ocean and the comprehension that possibly infinite marine life still lie beyond attainable depths, waiting to be discovered. Every other nagging worry or depressing thought shrinks as soon you realize how inconsequential and small you really are in this part of the oceanic universe. Therapeutic and humbling, in an odd sense, when you think about it.

This particular Dive had plenty of peaks, building up in succession one after another.

The front of the ship was teeming with an abundance of fish when we swam past it. Through the shadows underneath the bow of the ship, all I could see was fish, fishes and more fish eyes peering back at me from the dark. Amazing.

Minutes ambled on. We had already spotted school of barracudas, cobias, the odd eagle ray, 2 bull-rays, a huge hawksbill turtle just about 40 minutes into the dive. It was time to fin back to the mooring bouy for a 3 minute safety stop. And suddenly, a flicker of visible movement a few metres away stirred my attention.

I turned around.

Just out of the corner of my eye, a solitary creature glided away stealthily as it trailed behind its unsuspecting prey. In an instant, all I could recognize was the characteristic low blade-like dorsal fin ridged on the back of a slender cylindrical body as its sinuous tail swished from side to side. Except this one had leopard-like spots dotted against a pale yellow body instead. It was approximately 2.5 metres in length.

I froze on the spot, dumbstruck and held my breath for a few good seconds, marvelled in rapt silence as I basked in the moment of my fortuitous encounter with this creature at such close proximity.

Not just your average sharkie, Ladies and Gentlemen, this was a Zebra Shark!!!!! Indeed, a very interesting variation of the common testosterone-filled menace of the sea, and definitely a first for an inexperienced Diver like me.

The creature soon picked up a sense of heightened awareness about its surroundings, and probably my heart-pounding exhilaration as well. It swam away even further.

I was thrilled and insane.

Insanely out-of-your-mind thrilled. Every fibre of my being pumped with adrenaline, which only blunted all sense of foreboding apprehension at the prospect of courting this lurking danger.

Was it dangerous?

Probably not, I reasoned, judging from its blunt short snout and absence of any razor-sharp teeth hanging from the sides of its jaw. Its anguilliform (eel-like) undulations of its body and tail suggested an otherwise more docile temperament as compared to its rapacious kin. I steadied myself and drew in continuous breaths from my regulator, before frantically swimming over to Luke, our Dive Guide.

''OMG. You have got to see THIS!''

He quickly understood the frenzied excitement from the motion of my flailing arms. Without a tentative moment of hesitation, he nodded and broke into an abrupt chase after the shark with his camera. I waved to my dive buddies Roo and Ling, who gasped at the rare sighting of the Zebra shark and then sped off furiously in hot pursuit of the apex predator before it could escape from my sight.

It turned around for a short while to scan the surroundings, as if it contemplating the prospect of attacking whatever that made it feel threatened, and then glided off into the blue.....slowly......into distant nothingness.

Our air supply was running low, and soon it was no longer possible to extend our dive time any longer. We reluctantly bided farewell and surfaced, filled with dread at the thought of the jerky boat ride that would ferry us back to shore. I braced myself for the unavoidable bout of nausea and closed my eyes as I lulled into a deep relaxing slumber, quelling the squeamish sensation with wonderful images of the aquatic psychedelic dream I had just been aroused from.

To be able to encounter the beautiful, exotic, quirky and deadly creatures of the Reef within that underwater wonderland...We had to admit, the sea-sickness was well worth it.

Am thinking of sending this blogpost to a magazine to be published....whadayathink?