Day 7 - Ocean Rafting

Another early rise in anticipation of our 'Ocean Rafting' adventure. We stocked up on tea and toast not knowing what lunch might be like, and then we left Frank in the capable hands of Jodie and her team, hoping he would be patched up by the time we got home.

We were collected by the company mini bus, which dropped us off in no time at all, literally at the end of the jetty. We had to register and sign our life away, basically if we were eaten, Ocean Rafting would not be liable. A short walk down the mollusc covered steps lead us to a small pontoon next to the boats. We were asked to remove our thongs and place them in the 'lucky dip' box.

Our boat wasn't directly next to the pontoon so we had to climb over another boat, minding the gap, before we got to Thunder Struck. Previously a lifeboat, it was very yellow and agile. We found a seat at the rear and were warned we would get wet, and wet we got! The wind was not on our side so as we steered into the waves we got the full force.

A 30 minute gravity defying journey later and we had found the calm waters of our first stop, potentially Dumbbell Island, but we couldn't really hear over the waves! In very cramped conditions we donned our stinger suits and grabbed a snorkel. Despite our very own adequate buoyancy aids we both opted to take a Noodle, or in the UK a Woggle, to keep us afloat.

The cove was small and sheltered, maybe only 100-150m wide. We were informed the best coral was by the 'drop off', which was true. The coral near the shore had bleached and died in places, but that was a perfect habitat for new coral to grow.

Near the drop off the Coral was full of colour and life, a variety of fish were ready to greet us. Waterproof cameras at the ready and we were snapping away at fish, some that looked the zebras, some bright yellow and some iridescent. The largest of the fish were about 2ft long and brilliantly purple. At one point Holly could hear the fish biting the coral through the water, chomp chomp!

After an hour of floating around, spitting out sea water, dodging stingers and of course losing our buddies,we headed back to the boat. We headed off to Hill Inlet and the dreaded March fly found us. If felt like 1000's had come to greet us. We were dropped off on the opposite side of the Whitsunday Island and had a bush walk to get to the viewing point. A swarm of March Flies followed us the entire time. After a 10min walk we were witness to one of the greatest views we have ever come across in the natural world. A mass of turquoise waters lapped the purest of sands known to man. Miles of beach lay before us unspoilt and untouched, and so soft under foot it was unlike any sand we had felt before. The tide was going out meaning small pools of warm water remained over the beach for us to dip our toes. We also spotted Manta Rays drifting in the current and some people spotted Turtles, but Holly missed everyone :(

We got back on the boat and headed towards Whitehaven Beach, 7km of the purest silica sand on the earth. Enter the March Fly! Every time we stood still, even if we were up to our necks in seawater, the flies attacked (even through Stinger proof suits). Whitehaven was beautiful and in the 30 second respites between fly attacks we were able to absorb our surroundings. Due to the fly epidemic we all pretty much gave up and returned to the boat 15 minutes short of the allocated time; there's only so much flapping you can do without becoming stressed, anxious and pee'd off!

Apparently the March Flies only appear for about a week every year, after the rains come; bonza timing!

On the boat trip back we got to experience the full force of ocean rafting. As we rounded the bottom of Whitsunday we met the full force of the Atlantic Ocean crashing against the islands. It became evident very quickly why it was named rafting! Holly suffered from RSI by holding on too tightly and Clarkey screamed like a girl when we took off into the air and crashed back onto the swelling seas.

With some fuel remaining as we headed toward the jetty our driver commented that he needed to use the fuel up, so proceeded to put the boat into full throttle and swing the boat left to right, up and down and finally around in circles, ending with a hand break turn into the jetty. Having spent some time sat on the side of the boat like a rodeo, we were both glad to be sat slightly more centrally during this part of the trip.

We got the mini bus back to our camp site and packed up ready for a long drive (170k) to Ayr, so we had a shorter trip to Cairns the next day. The sun set and we were on constant 'roo' watch as the light faded. We finally made it to Ayr, dehydrated and knackered, which isn't a great combination when you can't find a camp site and drive around for 15 minutes in a strange town. We decided to pull into a family run site and chanced finding a spot. Luck was on our side and we camped down for the night, with another long drive to look forward to the next day (355km).