Aussie Adventure, Chapter Three: Into the Jungle

Previously on Aussie Adventure: Navigating the great wide blue.

The signs were everywhere. "Slow Down!" "Beware Cassowaries!" Cassowary crossings. And these were not scarce, they littered the roads driving north. On our drive from Airlie Beach to Cairns onto Cape Tribulation, we drove through and near Daintree Rain Forest, where cassowaries are native. One estimate I heard, or read, put the population at about 1000, so extra care was to be exercised on the road so as to not endanger them. 

"With all these signs everywhere, I really want to see one!"

"We saw one at Lone Pine."

"Yeah, but that one just paced back-n-forth and was encased. Not the same thing."

Lone Pine cassowary waiting on dinner

"But, they're dangerous. Velociraptor with feathers."

"Maybe, but the last noted death by cassowary was nearly 100 years ago. We'll be fine."

We'll be fine, I convinced myself. Knowing they had razors for feet and can move with a quickness I was not prepared for. Still, the thrill to see one live, in person, out in nature overwhelmed me. I had to see it.

As we drove, we passed through Licuala State Forest, completely surrounded. Suddenly, we eyed this path that veered off the road, big enough for a car to get in. And signs inviting us to enter. I turned, drove down this narrow, bumpy path hoping another car was not trying to exit as there was no room to scoot over. I drove until we reached a clearing. There were paths and a road blocked by a gate. In the center was a welcome area. There were no other humans to be found. From inside the car I could see we weren't entirely alone; the mosquitoes were jumping at the opportunity to suck on our fresh, tourist blood. 

"I think if we are going to see a wild cassowary, this will be our best bet. Not on the road, but out here away from everyone."

We agreed to the adventure, with the hopes of running into an extremely dangerous animal. But we had to prepare. It was winter, but in this area the temperature was high. And I was not going to allow the insects to have their way with me. I donned long pants, tucked those into the wool socks within the hiking shoes, and decided to wear my hooded sweatshirt with hood wrapped tightly around my head. My full beard might protect my face some. My hands would remain exposed.

The mosquitoes swarmed upon exiting the car, and I did what I could to fend them off. 

This forest was humid, devoid of humans, almost completely in its natural state. Other parks were clean with paths to make it easier for people to hike. Other parks lacked mosquitoes. This was like truly being out in nature.

We entered a path and slowly made our way through the narrow winding walk. I paced myself, moving at a gingerly rate so as to not miss anything. Who knows what was behind the dark thick bush? Or when one might suddenly pop out in our way? And if it did, I did not want to startle it.

The path twisted and turned upon entering. The trees towered over us, the vines hanging over the path. The leaves themselves, littering the path, were large, as were the pods I presumed came from the same trees. Elizabeth stopped in order to photograph this one particular tree soon after entering, and I paused to wait. As I did, I looked at the pods, to the tree, to the vines, to that one particular vine that was scaly and shiny.

"Uh, Elizabeth, do you see that?"

There, not even five feet away from me, was a 2 meter long snake resting, likely monitoring our movement.

"Holy shit!" she exclaimed. She does not often speak in this manner, but the sight of a snake in such proximity and such size brought it out of her. 

We remained here for a while. Such a sight is not all too common in the cities where we normally find ourselves. Our cameras snapped continuously trying to capture the best shot. But the sun was already beginning to set, and we had a long way to go still, so we made our way.

A snake, within five minutes of entering, greeted us. This forest was good for nature watching. We had to carry on, as we are likely to see more!

As we walked, we often came across iridescent seeds about the size of strawberries strewn about the path. They were always together, as if dropped. Are they from a pod that fell from a tree? Or....or could these be cassowary droppings? If so, there are a number of them throughout. If they are, that means cassowaries definitely are in the area. I could not determine if these were fresh, but they appeared to have been there not too long. We are on the trail!

Cautiously we continued deeper into the forest. The sun was quickly making its descent, and being caught in a strange forest with potentially deadly animals was not wise. Our pace was hurried, but I still did not want to miss anything. Every turn I made my eyes glanced in a thousand directions. As I ducked underneath vines and branches, my eyes darted up so as to not fall victim to a snake or other critter lying in wait. I avoided stepping in the droppings while peering deeper into the trees in the hope of seeing something. Is this area where the cassowary slept? Branches and leaves were patted down. Where do cassowaries sleep?

Every noise that emanated from the forest caused me to stop and turn, looking for the source. The wind moving branches. Other less deadly birds. Otherwise, it was deathly silent. Still no humans. No cars. Just a snake and potential cassowaries, the millions of unseen insects.

The path looped around. The sun was getting harder to see. Our pace intensified. We might still see something. Droppings are everywhere, one must be close. With each step anticipation grew. The intensity could be felt. It was just a matter of time. When?

As we turned a corner, I see something in the distance. Something blue in the trees, just off the path. Can those be....are those cassowary eggs? Am I actually casting my eyes upon....casso...wary.....eggs?

No, in fact, I was not. At this point, I had veered into the "children's path," a shorter walk that promised a wonderful sight to those who entered. What I saw was nothing more than a museum display, a prop, made to look like an actual cassowary nest and eggs. I was duped. 

At that point, we decided we ought to get to the car and start driving again. We were ready to turn around and rush back, but as it turns out, the path looped around enough to deposit us right back where I parked the car. Well, wasn't that convenient?

Out of sheer curiosity, I dashed back into the path where I started just to see our friend again, but the snake was now gone. Maybe it climbed down and is now on the path? Definitely keep our eyes open. I didn't want to be a headline, "ignorant tourist devoured by tame snake!"

Our hunt proved unsuccessful for cassowaries, and in the end I never saw one beyond the caged cassowary at Lone Pine. But my heart was on high alert the entire time in the forest, anticipating something dangerous appearing. And I did come upon a snake that was taller than me. That is not a common sight.  The sheer adventure was reason enough to make this detour.

Several weeks later, Elizabeth shared with me a video that made me feel much better that I did not run into a cassowary. They are extremely dangerous, even for trained animal handlers. I had no idea what I would have done if I had seen one, and very likely would have done the wrong thing and gotten myself killed. For the best that anticipation and nerves were unmet.

Later on we visited Mossman Gorge, a nature area where cassowaries *could* be seen, but this had a welcome center and cleaned paths where many people were walking through and bathing in the creek and stream. I anticipated insects and bites, but everyone else was in tank tops and bathing suits. As it turns out, there were no insects here, and the only bird we saw was an Australian turkey that just followed us around for a bit. Nothing dangerous.

I, again, put on the long pants and rolled down sleeves. Everyone else was walking around in bathing suits. Overkill on my part. Mossman Gorge was beautiful, no doubt, but I felt it was sanitized. Great views, clean water, relaxing, even with so many people about.

As we neared Cape Tribulation, the forests and geography allowed for even more views of the country. The overlooks off the side of the winding roads made for good stops. We pulled into one as we could see the ocean again, and the islands off this coast. A magical sight. As it was so wonderful, other cars arrived (the tour bus just left as we pulled in, fortunately) while we were there. They took up space where it was relatively empty previously. To evade the crowds, I moved down some, where I thought I was alone. Instead, a visitor approached me.

This cute little fella was eager to make an introduction, and his approach and actions spoke loudly. He crawled up to me, this creature no larger than a raisin, pivoted a few times, eyed me, and took a leap from the banister  towards me. While I cannot pretend to understand the mindset of a spider, I was pretty sure it tried to have me for lunch. Or at least take me down. I bounced back and saw it hanging from a thread. It climbed back up and kept moving in my direction, eyeing me with all of its eyes. Will it leap again?

So friendly was this spider that I had to introduce him to Elizabeth as well. I brought her over, and she neared with her camera. And he leapt again, this time landing on her camera lens. This spider, not surprisingly a jumping spider, was not in the least bit intimidated by our size.

While not distracted by our new friend, we took a moment to appreciate the view.

Thus far on the trip, I had come across various animals. And all have been up close and personal, nothing between them and me save for a few feet of nothing. Fortunately for me, this distance was enough to keep me safe and alive. And even though I was unwise to go in search of dangerous animals, even I was not dumb enough to take a chance by approaching the most dangerous animal.

While in the Daintree area, I safely appreciated the beauty of the crocodile from the confines of a river boat. And more importantly, a quiet boat that did not make the noise that would anger crocodiles. We saw about five crocodiles, several of them mere babies that our guide was able to espy from an impressive distance. The stories of experienced people and their pets dying at the mouths of crocs made me especially cautious to approach any water not the ocean. Though I was curious as to what happened to our guide and his heavily bandaged hands.

Not only did this tour give us the opportunity to view the powerful beasts, but it was also informative, and gave us free tea and cookies.

Eventually I made it to Cape Tribulation, where a cottage awaited us to sleep in the jungles. Animals surrounded us, and at night I heard many of them, even seeing a few turkeys wonder about. As we were so far from most everything, all there was here was nature. It truly felt as if I was on the edge of the world. This made for some fabulous views.

Sunrise at Cape Tribulation. At one point, I saw a fish jump out of the water (about 0:40 mark).

By this point, I had seen almost the entirety of the east coast of Australia, with some forays inland to the forests and cities. It was time to change course, and venture far into the interior of the continent, experience an entirely different kind of environment.

Next on Aussie Adventure: conquering Uluru.

Aussie Adventure, Chapter Two: Out to Sea

Previously on Aussie Adventure: road warrior

When traveling to a new destination, it is oft useful to make a list of the things that ought to be seen while there. This helps guide the traveler and ensures not missing out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. This is especially true when journeying so far from home, as I did with Australia. While I hope to return some day, I did want to make sure I saw the major sites of this vast country. That would prove difficult, as it is a large nation with much to see. But still I made the list of the features unique to Australia I had to see in my limited time.

At the top of the list was the Great Barrier Reef. For one, the sheer beauty from what I gathered from photographs. Two, as it is deteriorating due to climate change, and it is changing at a tremendous rate, how many opportunities would I have to witness it in its most pristine state? It has already transformed and will only continue to do so. I did not want to miss out on this before too late.

The sheer fact that it allowed me to be out on the water was also a major factor. I do value what time I can spend on or near the water. It relaxes me. I could swim, but I don't need to. Just being in its presence, watching it stream by is enough for me.

As I made the drive from Brisbane to points north, eventually to Cape Tribulation, I hugged the coast and was amazed by the beauty of the water. It is of no wonder that so many people flock to Australia for its beaches. It was too cold in the popular areas (by Sydney) to try surfing, but as I drove north the air warmed and the waters were perfect for my skin. The winter season provided another advantage: jellyfish flood the beaches in summer, particularly near Cairns and the northern coast. Traveling in winter allowed us to avoid the stings and pain jellyfish wreak havoc with.

Once I left Brisbane, and Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary, I shot straight for the first major destination: Whitsunday Island and a portion of the Great Barrier Reef. Due to distance, I had to stop in Rockhampton one night, but after sleep I sped to Airlie Beach, the nearest town from whence tours to the island launch. Airlie Beach, a town that looks like perpetual spring break. Fortunately, I was not there at peak time of year, but it was still crawling with tourists and college students. 

The night I arrived, an important rugby match was taking place between Queensland (where Airlie Beach is located) and New South Wales (the evil beings to the south, Sydney area). I had to make sure I did not wear the wrong colors, and our hosts in Rockhampton were sure to tell us we ought not wear NSW colors in Queensland during such a match. Though I knew I'd be safe no matter what colors I opted for, I decided to don neutral colors, neither team, and just walk through the crowds.

Given the high stakes of this match, it being the championship game, I wanted to share in the revelry with locals, feel the energy flowing through the crowds regardless of outcome or general disinterest on my part in the sport itself. We walked about town, trying to find something suitable, and I wanted something as unfancy as possible. A bar with bar food and lots of beer. And big crowds. We found one, and the bar was situated next to a pizza joint. The entire space was full to capacity of people decked out in Queensland colors, all eyes fixed on the television sets littering the bar. I could have walked naked through the aisles and no one would have noticed. I was not brave enough to attempt this.

Beers in hand, pizzas ordered, we found a bench in a not very ideal location as we could not see the televisions too well, but that mattered little to us. In my limited attempts to try to understand rugby (or was this Australian rules football?), I have failed miserably. And my general interest in all matters sports has waned over the years to complete disregard. This was more an experience, a means for seeing how the crowds reacted to whatever was happening on the television. I was able to see a bit of the screens, but I still couldn't make heads or tails of the action. All I knew was that the Queensland fans were thoroughly enjoying themselves. At one point, the score was somewhere in the vicinity of 54-3. Not knowing rugby scoring mechanisms, but knowing something about basic math and numbers, this appeared to be a lopsided victory. Queensland had much to cheer for.

I sat there trying to follow along, realizing I hadn't the first clue, and instead watched people, drank my beer, and ate my pizza. As it was my first time ordering beer in the country, and not knowing what to ask for, I ordered a Heineken, keeping it safe. Authentic Australian beer (and not Foster's) would be experienced another time. But I did learn something important. The old adage, "any pizza is good pizza," met its match in this pizza establishment. This was the worst tasting pizza I have ever experienced, and I've eaten Domino's and Papa John's. This was cardboard school cafeteria pizza that some poor inner city school rejected. I forced it down because I was hungry, but I left disappointed.

I quickly was able to forget this experience, as the real reason I made my way here came upon me. One night spent in the hostel, and the impetus for realizing I can never stay in a hostel ever again, and early in the morning we met our tour guides for a day of white sands, blue waters, and the majesty of Whitsunday Island and portions of the Great Barrier Reef. 

At the pier, we boarded our boat along with about 20 other souls, and off to sea we set. On our way, they handed out our supplies, masks, snorkels, wet suits for those who wanted them (I went without, wanting to feel the water against my skin without interference). I was even able to rent a GoPro camera to document the fun I'd have in the water.

On this trip, there were several items on the agenda. We'd dive in two separate locations, dock at Whitsunday Island, wander the island as well as have a barbecue lunch, and enjoy the sea. Below a series of photographs from the adventure. The water was perfect. The views were majestic.

Whitsunday Island, with its brightly white sand, so fine it squeaked under foot. And me so happy as a little child at being in the water on a beautiful day.

On the island, we prepared for lunch, and were immediately joined by some island natives.

At first, one goanna approached to see who we were and what food we had to share. Soon, we were surrounded by these curious and hungry creatures. One dove into our garbage, but otherwise they stayed to the perimeters while putting up with the staring and constant photography we subjected them to.

As we had some time, we decided to explore the island a bit. There was a peak where we could look over the entire island, so on adventure we went.

We could have stayed in awe up here for hours, but we knew lunch was about to be served soon. Back down we had to go. As we made our way down, Elizabeth stopped suddenly to take some photographs. I was behind her, so I, too, stopped and glanced about. And there, maybe about two feet from where we stood, I spied another example of Australian wildlife. Not wanting to cause a scene, or create an accident due to our proximity, I grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulders and pivoted her without too much motion to the right where our friend lied in wait.

Scale may be difficult to ascertain from the photographs, but this spider was roughly the size of my outstretched hand, maybe a bit larger. Eeyore wanted to get closer, but he'll tell you he did not because I was afraid to get too near the spider. Appreciating from a distance seemed to be the wisest decision. Later Internet sleuthing revealed this as the Golden Silk Orb-Weaver. Apparently not lethal for humans, but I was not going to take any chances.

We carefully descended from this spot and joined the rest of our team for lunch, including the goannas. We would be off to another spot on the island for more sight-seeing before diving.

Eeyore's been to Whitsunday Island

Now he's hungry

The amazing views never seem to go away. Everywhere there was beauty to be found. Breathtaking scenery at every step.

Yet, there was still more to see, this time beneath the waves.

This was a combination of photos at both dive spots. Towards the end, as they called me back on board, I saw a fish about the size of three humans wadded together. I did not capture a photo, unfortunately, and no one believes I saw it. It was not to be the only time I was not believed, and I had no evidence for what I saw.

I took some video as well. Overall, quite impressed with the GoPro. Will need to pick one up.

That evening, we found a Thai restaurant in town with a view of the street beneath. It was finally time to try an actual Australian beer. The night before, while watching rugby, I noticed the sponsor. I thought, why not try them? And it dawned on me after tasting it, what type of beer sponsors major sports events? Crappy watery beer. XXXX....you fooled me!

But the beer, as awful as it was, could not sully the experience of the island, of the waters, of the sun.

And still there was more!

The drive continued north, as previously noted. While there were stops along the way, this goal was Cape Tribulation. The sole purpose here was more snorkeling, more ocean, more Great Barrier Reef.

Our tour started off on the beach where we boarded a smaller boat. We were far away from civilization, so less people here with us. And this ride went out further than we had been before. Far away from land, far away from any islands, save for one sand reef we neared. This time, I had a wet suit, as we would be in the water in deeper ocean for longer than at Whitsunday Island.

I thought the views near Airlie Beach were gorgeous, the wildlife even further out were more colorful, more brilliant, more numerous and varied. All manners of fish. All colors. Unfortunately, I did not have a GoPro with me this time, so photos are lacking. Elizabeth photographed me some, in all my glory.

I saw several people diving far below, so I tried it. I wanted to see how deep I could dive. Turns out, not very far. I am 1m 82cm tall, and I got down maybe 3 meters. Not very impressive. I floated too much. My flipper came off. I was a mess. But I enjoyed it.

Our tour guides for this trip were better, as they dove with us. They could point out where to go. What to see. He found a sea turtle, so we followed. And followed. And followed for a very long time. We never made contact, but I am pretty sure he was annoyed by our continuous following.

I did disturb some sealife, unfortunately. As I swam and floated, I sometimes scraped against some coral. The waters were shallow and I could not avoid the coral at all. Though I hope I did nothing drastic or injurious, I had that fear I was ruining the ecosystem.

And more fear overtook me as I swam to the edge of the reef, and came upon a sudden drop that I could not see down. Pure blackness lied below. I was pretty certain I would not be sucked into the abyss; still, I made sure to hug the reef and not go too far out. I could imagine the headlines. My mind conjured up Bill Bryson, and the stories he recounted of people going missing in Australia. Always under unusual circumstances. Always never to be seen again. I was not going to add to the lore.

The sights were amazing, as one can imagine. I thought I had had enough with the first dive, but this was worth the arduous, or just long, drive to Cape Tribulation.

Even nearly drowning multiple times as my snorkel actually pivoted and pointed down into the water was worth it. I survived.

As we were getting close to ending this adventure, I dove under one last time for another view. Yes, we had seen plenty of clown fish ("Come see Nemo, mates!" could only be heard so many times), but it was too impressive to not go back for one more view.

And that is when I saw another brush with death.

Not certain death, but closer than we would normally encounter.

As I dove, I looked in Elizabeth's direction, and I saw a reef shark swimming about her legs and around her. I screamed, but who could have heard me under water? I swam quickly to her, told her to dive and look for the shark! It was just here. I looked, she looked, but nothing. The shark was too quick, obviously, but it also seemed no matter how still I remained, I could never dive in the same place twice.

The shark was not large, maybe a meter long, but it was clearly a shark with all the appropriate fins and look. But I was the only one to see. And I had no camera. And no witnesses. And no one believing me. But there, swimming about her legs, was a genuine shark. Everything in Australia is ready to kill you.

Next on Aussie Adventure: George of the Jungle