Whitsunnydays!

The weather forecast for our Whitsundays tour went as follows: rain, more rain and a dash of thunder and lightening to keep things interesting. 

Having learnt that Australian weather can be a little temperamental I continued to check right up until the morning we were due to leave but there wasn't a glimmer of sunshine predicted for the entire trip. Any pre-existing enthusiasm had by this point evaporated into thin air but we packed our bags regardless (full of goon and waterproof clothing) and dragged ourselves down to the pier. A threateningly dark cloud accompanied us along the way and surely enough, just as the weatherman had promised, the first drops of rain fell the moment we stepped aboard the Tongarra. Our boat, which was to be home for the next three days, was considerably smaller than it appeared in the brochure and claustrophobia was kicking in at the mere thought of twenty-five of us all cramming inside the gally to find shelter from a storm. 

It was all the more fortunate then, that said storm never arrived. The further we distanced ourselves from Airlie Beach, the brighter it became and by the time we stopped for dinner it was almost completely clear. It was as though our skipper had abandoned all compasses and simply sailed into bluer skies. A great plan, if you ask me. 

The first evening was spent getting to know our tour leader, Henry, and everyone else on board, in particular a gobby group from Essex who we quickly befriended. We each had a few drinks but we soon found that the wavy ride was making us feel far more dizzy and drunk than any of our alcohol. 

As midnight approached Henry told us he had a marquee to put up across the decking so that we could sleep outside if we preferred. And indeed we did. The cramped cabin beds were more like pigeon holes and it was suffocatingly hot with more than one person in the room, let alone twenty odd. Charmed by the idea of sleeping under the stars we quickly hauled our mattresses up to the top and shotgunned our places in the centre of the boat where we felt the most protected. I slept relatively well, thanks to a perfect combination of wine, the gentle sway, and the lullaby that Mitch and Rich treated us to on the harmonica before bed. The same cannot be said, however, for the unfortunate few on the edge of the boat who spent their night being soaked by rogue waves and playing tug of war with the wind to keep their sleeping bags aboard. 

Despite that though, I think everyone would agree that waking up the next morning in the middle of the glistening ocean was pretty special. The water had completely calmed, leaving a heavenly stillness surrounding us and Henry added to this ethereal atmosphere by playing 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' through the speakers to ease the day in gently. I couldn't think of a more appropriate theme tune for this moment as I stared out across the horizon, scanning the surface for sea turtles as they popped up to say hello. This certainly didn't feel like the grey and miserable world I'd woken up in yesterday. 

After a lovely breakfast we were taken to White Haven Beach, the most famous spot in the Whitsundays. It's absolutely stunning with sand so white that it looks like snow; bizarre but beautiful as it blends into the bright blue ocean and sunny skies. We took a million and one photographs between us and spent an hour or so just relaxing on the shore before heading back to Tongarra for lunch. 

The next activity on the agenda was snorkelling. It's currently stinger season so we were made to put on wetsuits and told to stay on the look out for jellyfish. The most dangerous of all, however, is completely invisible and as a sickening mixture of fear and utter helplessness washed over me, I couldn't help wishing he'd just left that part out. 

Han and I lasted about ten minutes in the coral before we caught sight of our first jellyfish just a few metres away. This one was very much visible, so big in fact that we decided there wasn't enough room in this reef for the both of us and called for help. Luckily Henry was nearby in his tender and came to our rescue before we drowned from sheer panic. 

From the safety of the tender we saw hundreds of fish and I found they looked far prettier from above the surface, once the threat of being eaten had been removed. We watched in awe, this flurry of fluorescent colours created each time they fought their neighbours for the food we threw into them. There were countless yellow and purple 'Dorys' a few 'Nemos' and a large tuna that looked unnervingly similar to a baby shark. Back on the big boat we found a school of huge bat fish that had been hiding in our shadow and the boys fed those too. I looked on, with a cup of tea in one hand and a biscuit in the other, reflecting on how pleasant an experience this was; far better to observe dry and from a distance than be down in the water wearing a stupid mask and a wetsuit, getting too close for comfort with these strange creatures. Snorkelling, I've decided, is not my thing. 

The second and final evening on board Tongarra was a little livelier than the last. Henry had saved his best attire for the occasion (a purple lycra leotard and pink headband) and dished out equally as ridiculous outfits to the rest of us too. He then split us into four groups for some team games which involved balloons, a jar of Vegemite and some rather questionable behaviour. I'd managed to burn my hand pretty badly on the BBQ earlier that evening whilst trying to use it as a climbing frame (not my finest moment) and so had the added challenge of doing it all with a freezing cold Coke can glued to my palm. Needless to say my team didn't win but it was fun all the same. 

After such low expectations, our Whitsundays tour turned out to be truly amazing. The unexpected sunshine played a big part (Tongarra 1, Weather Man 0) but even in the rain I'm certain we'd have had a great time. With activities that awesome and people that awesome, it would have been seriously hard not to.