Drinking and Diving

see all photos »

Our host Dan arrived home from a long frustrating day at work to find two lost souls sitting in his yard surrounded by bags of various colors. He could not have been pleased. After assuring him we weren't moving in, he relaxed slightly and we all settled in to get to know each other. The wine that we'd brought him was opened and dispatched while we told each other stories and realized how much we had in common; which amongst couchsurfers is not uncommon. Dan is a straight forward, blunt and funny chap who is unfailingly polite and opinionated. Things should be a certain way, and surprisingly we completely agreed. Dan was also a great person to discuss our Cairns activities with as he is a sportsman and a local (originally a kiwi, which is his nickname on the rugby pitch). We talked diving and he advised us on a few options. After some pasta, another bottle of wine and some ever louder discussions on the way the world should be, we went to bed and passed out immediately.

see all photos »

The next day we canvassed Cairns, looking for the best way to dive the Great Barrier Reef. We looked into many different options, but time and budget kept bringing us back to one, Cairns Dive Center (CDC), which we signed up with for a two day live-aboard starting the next day. We saw the city and decided it was a pretty cool little town and even caught Dan's rugby game which was great fun. His team was playing against a mob of pacific islanders, Maoris and the odd white guy. We were accidentally sitting in their section but had to laugh at the enthusiasm the crowd cheered their team with. If not for Dan we surely would have joined them as their fire-hydrant shaped friends bowled into Dan's team like pins. It got pretty ugly out there and Dan and his team came up just short of a comeback and lost, sending our neighbors into a wild celebration.

Diving is supposed to be an amazing, fun, liesurely activity, not a thrilling escape from death

see all photos »

That evening we met up with some of Dan's friends, fellow couchsurfers and some others, in a big group at a Spanish, Greek, Italian restaurant. There we met Steve and his girlfriend Maria who would would end up hosting us after our dive trip. The girls all chatted and Magda and Maria, who is Spanish, went to dance while Dan, Steve and I swapped crazy tales, some of which were true. Steve is a long-time couchsurfer, traveler, author, entrepreneur and insane person. He had many hilarious couchsurfing stories, but unfortunatley for him I had the ace in my sleeve. Sometime back while in New Zealand we heard about a couchsurfer in Italy who likes to wrestle his guests. Apparently when you arrive he has a little pair of red shorts waiting for you and he shows you his custom made wrestling room. Sometimes you wrestle him, sometimes another couchsurfer that he pairs you with. Either way, it sounds nasty. Most couchsurfers I meet have already heard of this character, but thankfully I got to tell Steve and Dan for the first time and we all rolled around laughing. My favorite part of telling the story is about the guy who left a "Very Negative" review on 'Mossimo's' profile. He complains about having to wrestle on his first night, and then, on his SECOND night... What?? There was a second night? That's the part that has me doubled over, I LOVE that the guy stuck around for another night. Later in the week, on our first night staying with Steve and Maria, and during a dinner Maria had cooked in honor of Dan's mom who was visiting, Steve pulled out a little pair of red shorts and told me I'd have to put them on. He then disappeared into the house leaving me to explain to everyone who didn't know the story why we'd all been visited by a vision of Steve's red underpants.

see all photos »

The day after the Spanish dinner we woke up early and were picked up by a shuttle and taken to a boat which ferried us out to our live-aboard dive vessel, the Kangaroo Explorer, which is permanently moored out on the reef. Suddenly we were about to dive again. Now you all might remember my last day of diving, the day that in 24 feet of water my only means of breathing exploded, leaving me slightly worried that I was perhaps about to die. That was followed, memorably, by a colossal lapse in judgement and a panicked, uncontrolled, further life threatening rush to the surface.

see all photos »

Obviously I was keen to not repeat that episode, and as we suited up for the first time in months I was practically trembling. It helped that Magda was there to reassure me, and that Australian diving standards and regulations are roughly a billion trillion times more strict than in Malaysia. The dive went smoothly. It was beautiful. The water was crystal clear and the reef, oh man, the reef almost made me want to stop throwing all my plastic bags in the water. We descended further than we've ever gone, down to 25 meters (that's 75 feet folks) and swam with sting rays, eels, and thousands of other bright and wonderful tropical fishes. The corals themselves were fantastic, huge and exotic like fans or giant brains, each with its own support team of hundreds of species of varied sea life. Magda and I both got low on air early so our divemaster took us back to five meters for three minutes, then waved goodbye as we left him and resurfaced. Unlike in Malaysia, where if we'd unexpectedly surfaced, a rather casual fisherman whose boat had been hired would slowly motor over to us, if he noticed. In Australia, the dive boat has permanent watchers, constantly scanning for trouble. Before we even saw the boat, they were already signaling to make sure we were okay. We paddled backwards to the Kangaroo Explorer, chatting excitedly about how amazing it had been, I had completely forgotten to be scarred out of my wits.

see all photos »

Over two days we dove six times, almost doubling our previous experience. By the third dive we were going without a guide, swimming through the deep together, alone with all the fish in the world. We saw sharks, a sea turtle, more rays, and everything but the big money sighting, the Manta Ray. That will have to be for the next trip. We managed to avoid the box jellyfish and the blue ringed octopus, two of the deadliest animals in the world, as well as the saltwater crocs and tiger sharks that live in the area and will almost certainly gobble you up.

see all photos »

After two days my ears were wrecked. Never good to begin with they were stuffed, waterlogged and sore, and only for that reason was I thankful to stop diving. Otherwise I think I had finally gotten the point, that diving is supposed to be an amazing, fun, leisurely activity; not a thrilling escape from death. Gone now from the reef we are missing it, and feel that along with the rift valley in Kenya and the Annapurna Range in the Himalayas, we left a bit of our hearts on the GBR.

The next day we dropped an unusually large wad of cash for a reef flight to see our buddy for the last time. For an hour we flew over azure waters and saw for the first time just how huge the reef is and what a tiny part of it we'd seen. From above we spotted the elusive manta rays, bull rays and sharks, we even saw a diver, enjoying the splendors from up close. I would have traded places in an instant.

see all photos »

The two nights we spent at Steve and Maria's after the dive were full of excellent conversation, alchohol and late hours on the front patio. I had no idea what time I fell asleep on the first night but felt pretty good considering the amount of wine consumed. When I learned it had been around 4:30 I was suddenly very tired. Both sets of our CouchSurfing hosts really made Cairns the amazing place it was. The fact that we remet our old Israeli friends from the Milford Track was an added bonus. When we finally left we were truly sorry to go. We just had no idea how hard it would be to actually leave.