This week, I finally bit the bullet and got around to organizing and uploading the remainder of the photos from August’s Great Barrier Reef diving excursions. As expected, it was fun to look through them and reminisce, but it also made me think about how my overall impressions of diving have evolved over the past year. When Mouse first suggested we get certified to dive, the only thing I could think about was SHARKS. Even though the idea of exploring the reef up close and personal was inviting, I couldn’t get the frightening mental image of those snaggle-toothed predators out of my head. Great White Sharks, Grey Nurse Sharks, Blacktip Reef Sharks, Whitetip Reef Sharks… the thought of running into any one of those bad boys set my stomach in knots and my anxiety levels through the roof. I was terrified, harboring gruesome images of a sadistic shark noshing on my arm for a mid-afternoon snack. While I wouldn’t say I was paralyzed with fear, I was pretty obsessed with it. But after living here for a while, and getting some dives under my belt, I’ve come to learn sharks are the least of my worries. (Although, the recent death of that kid off the coast of California might appear to contradict that thought.) In all reality, “death by shark” is a highly unlikely event in the waters of Australia, with only 53 occurring in the last 50 years. And, quite frankly, the sharks I’ve come across could have cared less about me, happily going about their business as I swam by.
Nope – when diving The Great Barrier Reef (or simply frolicking in the waters surrounding it), sharks are definitely not the biggest danger. The real dangers are much smaller and less apparent. The problem is, people are lulled into a sense of safety because these creatures lack the flash and panache of a Great White. They’re sneaky like that. I’ve come to learn, the waters of northern Queensland are teeming with things just waiting to inflict unimaginable pain and possible death onto unsuspecting victims.
The most infamous of all is probably the Box Jellyfish (better known as a marine stinger around here), which is nearly transparent, has tentacles up to 9.8 feet in length, and packs enough venom to kill six adult humans. (I’ve heard horror stories about marine stinger victims that make me cringe.) And then there’s its more diminutive cousin, the Irukandji Jellyfish, which is only the size of a thumbnail, but one sting can send a person into weeks of excruciating pain for which there is no cure. The Blue-Ringed Octopus boasts a neurotoxin that leads to cardiac and respiratory arrest, as well as motor paralysis. (There’s no anti-venom for that one, either.) Even brushing up against a Crown-of-Thorns Starfish results in extreme pain. (The treatment for which is to stick the affected body part into boiling water in hopes of breaking down the venom.) Even an innocent looking shell can prove to be deadly, as in the case of the cone shell, which houses a harpoon-like stinger that injects a deadly neurotoxin into the poor soul who innocently picks it up. (Yikes!) And if you think you’re safe sticking to the shoreline, think again. The Stonefish remains hidden in the rocks, with thirteen spikes strong enough to penetrate thick-soled shoes, ready to deliver its highly neurotoxic, and possibly fatal, venom.
Knowing all of this, you would think I was crazy to even venture near the Australian waters, let alone go diving in them. But, it’s really a matter of perspective and taking calculated risks. Sure, danger is ever-present, but so is beauty. And, when you consider the statistics, I’m highly unlikely to suffer any injury by any of the above-mentioned seas creatures. Besides, if I gave into my fear, I would never do anything adventurous or fun.
**Be sure to check out all of my GBR photos in the album shown to the right. Enjoy!
