Nobody told us about the birds on Heron Island: doh! It is named after a bird

Two old birds join hundreds and thousands of birds.

I knew virtually nothing about Heron Island before I went there. Sure, I'd read a few blurbs that talked up the turtles and the island as a snorkelling and diving wonderland.

I expected to see turtles all over the place and to swim with them like a mermaid through an abundance of psychedelic coral populated by exotic fish.

I should have done some reading.

When Ms Fivestar and I arrived at the island (which is really a coral cay) for the Great Barrier Reef Swim 2012 the turtles were nowhere to be seen*.

Mr Turtle alone at sea near the jetty at Heron Island.

But there were lots of birds. In fact, during our group's official welcome to the island one of the staff explained that around 70,000 black noddy terns had just flown in to prepare for their breeding season from September to April.

Our friends the black noddy terns outside our apartment.

Think about it. Heron Island is tiny - only 42 acres.

The black noddy terns were in the trees tending to nests made from fallen leaves that they drape over the boughs. They make a sort of gentle "kek" sound.

Imagine it: "kek kek kek kek kek kek kek..." all day and night. They also coo and purr. It's rather relaxing and you get used to it.

What you don't get used to is the sounds made by the wedgetailed shearwaters (also known as mutton birds). Around 30,000 of these guys fly on to the island every night from September to March. Their nests are burrows in the ground.

These dark grey birds make two distinct types of sounds.

One is a ghost-like howl. It is a mournful "wooooooooo woooooooo woooooooooo". Then at around 3am, they ratchet up the volume and get really vocal with a cry that sounds like a distressed baby. It goes "wah!!!!!!!!!! wah!!!!!!!!!!!!! wah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I'm serious. It sounds like the pub has closed and all the pissed punters are outside having a street brawl. 

I couldn't believe the cacophony outside my window. Unreal.

I don't have any photos of the mutton birds because they're only around at night in their hidey-holes. Ms Fivestar almost trod on one (I think it was intentional).

On our second night on the island I went to reception and got earplugs, which made a huge difference - though I still woke up at 3am because of the huge ruckus.

 Ya gotta love nature!

 In my next post I'll write about the Great Barrier Reef Swim, sharks and bird poo. It's bound to be compelling. 

*We learned that the green and loggerhead turtles nest on the island from November to March. We were two weeks early.

Not to worry. We still got to see several turtles bobbing about in the water near the island's jetty and I saw one when I snorkelled off the wreck of the Protector, located just beyond the the jetty.

Heron Island: swimming adventure where sharks are part of the scenery

Heron Island is a coral cay located 72 kilometres off the mining port of Gladstone in North Queensland. It is a national park on the southern end of the Great Barrier Reef that also accommodates a research centre and a resort for 200 guests.

I was there a couple of weeks ago with around 150 mad ocean swimmers, who got the opportunity to swim 3km around the island.

During our stay, we also swam with sharks, rays and turtles. Yikes! Sharks!

I never thought I would calmly observe a shark as it glided underneath me but I did. And it was the most amazing experience. Heron's sharks are predominantly the black tipped and white tipped reef variety. I also saw a lemon shark, which has a fatter body.

The reef sharks are long and sinuous and can look rather scary, especially when you see their fin slicing through the water. But these sharks aren't the least bit interested in biting humans for a taste and there has never been an incident involving humans and sharks on the island.

Below are some happy snaps of my holiday. More to come - with more of a story about the trip.

The wreck that greets visitors on their approach to the island.

Every island has to have a sunset.

The rays hang out near the shore.

The black object is a shark.

Bait fish.

The gantry.

  

Happy birthday Mr July: from the bottom of my heart

Mr July has been anxious to see himself (or part thereof) featured on this blog. I'm sorry it's taken so long but I've been in hibernation for the past week as the temperature plunges to all-time lows of around five degrees Celsius in Sydney. I can't bear it! Mr July* can bare it - but only for a select few. Consider yourselves lucky.


And so he doesn't feel quite so exposed, I have included a photo taken of me by The Hiss on a recent weekend away in Noosa Heads**. I rarely get the chance to relax in a bath, especially one with spa jets. I thought I was just emptying the spa bubbles into the bath before I turned on the spa. Unbeknown to me, Spanner squirted a whole tube of shampoo into the bath before I hopped in and turned on the spa.

God bless him.

 PS: The doggess is taking a well-earned break at a dog spa in Byron Bay. She is currently immersed in a blend of patchouli and frankincense oils but promises to return much invigorated in the next few days.

* Happy birthday Mr July! 

** More pics of Noosa Heads to come, along with references to koalas, dolphins, turtles and brush turkeys (rats with wings, if you ask me).

Byron Bay Winter Whales Ocean Swim Classic 2010

The pics say it all really. The Byron Bay Winter Whales Ocean Swim Classic is my favourite of all the ocean swims. My daughter Miss Hissy has a favourite word, which sums up the swim and location - SUBLIME (definition: majestic. Of high spiritual, moral or intellectual worth).

The locals say Byron has gone to the dogs because it's become such a tourist town. But I love it. When I arrive at Main Beach, I feel the release of tension in my neck and back. It's beautiful (the beach and the release of tension).

And the place still has a chilled-out hippy vibe, despite its gentrification. Backpackers and ferals cohabit with baby boomers, who haul their long boards up to The Pass in an attempt to rekindle their youth.

Also, over the first weekend in May the place is chock-a-block with ocean swimmers from as far south as the Mornington Peninsula. They're a weird lot, mostly older (once you hit 40 there's nothing better to do) and totally addicted to the sport. On the Friday, Saturday and Monday morning at 8am over 100 of their ilk gather at Main Beach and snake around to The Pass, just to swim back again. As if the swim on the Sunday isn't enough.

THE SWIM: Just before the 2.2 km swim started from Wategos on Sunday, we spotted two dolphins doing synchronised surfing off the break at The Pass, and during the swim my friend Mrs Snorkel saw four turtles (that's because she cheats and wears fins, snorkel and big fat goggles).

The course takes you out from Wategos, around The Pass and along Main Beach to the surf club, which is easy to see as a row of conifers act as markers. It's a dream course because you can have a good squizz while you swim, and still maintain your stroke. A bonus is the current that gives you a helpful nudge. The big, round orange buoys are easy to spot and, because the older swimmers start before the younger swimmers, which is unusual in an ocean swim, you are never alone.

The water wasn't its usual crystal clear this year as the swell churned up sand from the ocean floor. But you still get to see plenty of fish because it's reasonably shallow all the way.

I and the 2300 or so other punters had a bliss bomb of a weekend.

If only life was like this 24/7.

Pic 1 is at sunset looking towrds The Pass and the lighthouse; pic 2 was taken at The Pass looking out to Mt Warning; pic 3 was taken at the finish line on Main Beach by my friend Ms Five Star. I was still out with the mob, struggling to keep up and regretting several glasses of Pinot Noir consumed the night before the swim.