Townsville to Hervey Bay

Well, I wasn’t expecting to spend too much time in Townsville, but when we had stopped in Cardwell, I had tried to make lunch plans with Russ and Ian. Russell wasn’t free for lunch, so we had to do dinner instead, which meant that we spent the whole afternoon in Townsville. Steve drove down the mountain from Wallaman Falls, and then Eva drove into Townsville.

We hung out on the Strand for a little while, as we waited to try to get our car’s headlights fixed, but that was a failure. We looked at a few guidebooks to continue planning the next day or two. Andrew, Janni, and David, my friends from the Reef Lodge, came to hang out with us for a bit. At five, we headed to Flinders Street to listen to some live music at Monsoon’s, the bar that Sam, Geneveve, and I hung out at on our first night in Townsville. Sam’s music business, Humble Pine, was hosting the live music, so I got to see Sam and Ben, and I also got to see Sam perform for the first time. We just relaxed out on the deck, listening to music, watching the sky change colors over the harbor as the sun set.

At about six-thirty, Russ, Ian, and Graeme met us for dinner. It felt to us like our program hadn’t ended yet, but it was strange to be there all together without Tony and the rest of the group. Nevertheless, it was a great treat to spend some more time with Russ and Ian. They are the two people I will always miss the most about Australia and one of the main reasons I would like to return.

I was truly happy to be back in Townsville and to see everyone that I had already said goodbye to. Our whole road trip was like a short transition of saying goodbyes, because we did a few at a time. Saying goodbye to Russ and Ian again was easier this time than it had been the first time, because we weren’t saying goodbye in an emotional group of 14 Americans leaving a country they loved. It was just us, this time. Ian gave me the biggest hug ever; I don’t think I’ve ever had a bigger hug than that. Andrew, Janni, and David also came back to our car to say goodbye to me again. Ian led us out to the highway, with Kelly driving, and pulled over as we got on the highway and waved goodbye. I will always remember his face, waving out his car window, a smile on his face, looking regal in his cowboy hat and perfectly happy with his life.



Kelly and I tag-teamed that night to get us to MacKay, five hours south of Townsville. We got there at about two o’clock in the morning, when we pulled into a caravan park to camp for the night. Steve and Eva slept in the backseat so that we could get up early, at about 6:30 the next morning, to continue driving. We drove through the “horror strip” during the day, a strip of road that Russell had warned us not to traverse during the night. He even told us not to get out of our car while we were driving through this part, because people had left their cars to go pee in the bush before and never returned. We did stop at a bathroom on the way, but there were no casualties, other than the loss of Kelly’s favorite hat.

We drove all day; we were on a mission. We got to Hervey Bay in the evening, where we stayed at a hostel. The next morning, we were going on our 4WD camping safari on Fraser Island for three days.

Road Trip: Sky Diving and Wallaman Falls

So, Steve drove us to the airport in Tully, where we would be boarding a small plane, only to jump out of it once it reached 14,000 feet in the air. We were to sky dive on Mission Beach: we would jump out over the ocean, overlooking the reef, and land on the beach. When we left Eddy Bay, it was a little bit cloudy, and we were nervous about whether the weather would be nice enough to dive or not (after all, Tully is the other “wettest” city of Australia). As we drove, the sky cleared up, and it became a beautiful sunny day.

At the airport, as we signed our lives away, we met Lauren and Avery, as well as Avery’s sister, and another friend, Tom. The eight of us were going to jump out of the plane together. There was a bit of confusion, which involved Kelly, Steve, Eva, and I driving our station wagon about 20 minutes to the landing site at Mission Beach, then taking a bus back to Tully. We were supposed to hang out at the beach and have lunch there, because the rest of our group was taking a bus there to hang out, but we accidentally went right back to the airport and just had to sit around hungry for a few hours, and we didn’t have any food or anything because it was all in our car at Mission Beach.

But finally, we were all harnessed up and sent to board our plane. There were no seats in the plane, so we had to sit in two rows, basically straddling each other. The diver that I was attached to was named Ben, and he was very friendly and laid back. I wasn’t very nervous at all to begin with, but I’m sure Ben’s personality helped with that. When the plane took off, the divers left the door to the plane open! It was a little bit disconcerting. The air coming in was cold. Ben had a watch on his wrist that showed the altitude, and it was crazy to watch how high into the air we climbed. 4,000 feet in the air seemed extremely high, but we went all the way to 14,000! When we finally reached 14,000 feet, the scariest part was watching the first couple of people jump out of the plane. Avery’s sister, Kelsey, was first, and I just remember seeing her face as the pair fell out upside down. I was also amazed at how quickly it all happened: each pair jumped right after the other! I was the fifth person to jump out. Ben and I tumbled out of the plane for a little bit before he pulled the tiny parachute that stabilizes you. I may have had my eyes closed for the first part, or maybe it was just too disconcerting to realize what I was seeing, but I’m sure we were upside down at one point. We then proceeded to fall for a full 60 seconds—from 14,000 to 4,000 feet—before Ben pulled the parachute. I was really calm for the whole fall. I had bet Steve that if I didn’t scream, he would have to buy me dinner. Well, he bought me dinner. I didn’t even have an adrenaline rush! It was just the sea air soaring into my lungs and the ocean coming close and close. I guess it took my breath away a little at first, but as soon as I got used to the falling feeling and began to settle into it, Ben pulled the parachute. He began to make turns with it, but I asked him to stop because I get motion sickness. A benefit of not turning was that we got to be up in the air much longer, just gliding down to earth. (Turning the chute makes you come down faster.) At one point, Kelly sailed by, right below me. It was so strange to be in the middle of the air and close enough to talk to somebody. I felt like I could put my feet down on top of her parachute.





I was glad that I got to stay up in the air longer. I was the last person to land. When we jumped, I had been told to look toward the horizon instead of straight down so I could see more, but I had completely forgotten to do that. This extra time allowed me to really soak in the view—mostly the ocean, but also the beach and rainforest. It looked like we were going to land in the ocean, but we swung down onto the beach where everyone was waiting. We all hung out on the beach in the sun for an hour or two before we said our goodbyes to Avery, Lauren, and the rest, and hopped back into our station wagon.

When we left Mission Beach, I drove for the first time. It was easier than I thought it would be. The main thing to be careful about is hugging the left side of the road, but we all put on our wipers instead of our signal a couple of times. I drove into Cardwell—the same place I had stopped at to and from Townsville on the Greyhound bus. The sun was setting behind the forest, and the sky was absolutely beautiful over the water and Hitchenbrook Island. I walked out onto the pier to take some photos, and called Russell and Ian to make plans for the next day in Townsville. We bought a few groceries for dinner, and then continued driving to Wallaman Falls.



The roads to Wallaman were long, empty, and dark. Twice while I was driving, the headlights on the car went out completely when I had the brights on. The first time, when I turned the brights off, the headlights went back on immediately, so I decided to just drive with my hand on the signal so I could turn them off immediately if it happened again. However, the second time it happened, the lights remained off for a good six seconds after I had turned the brights off! It was super dangerous, so we decided to just not use them. I had to drive up the windy mountain to the top of Wallaman Falls without them. At one point, Kelly shone her flashlight out of the window, and it shone further ahead than our headlights did!

We set up camp in the dark again. The sky was very starry and absolutely beautiful, but it was cold on top of the tablelands. We cooked pasta in the dark and went to bed. In the morning, there was dew everywhere. The sun began to warm things up when it rose over the trees, and we had breakfast and packed up the car. We did a short walking track through the rainforest to some granite rock pools, then drove to the lookout point for Wallaman Falls, the tallest waterfall in Australia at 268 meters. The gorge was immense. We felt like we were at the Grand Canyon, it was so big. We didn’t have time to walk to the bottom of the falls, which would have been nice, but the view was still amazing. It was nice to just relax and be in nature for a little while after being in Cairns and doing work for so long.







After enjoying the falls, we got back in the station wagon to continue our journey. Next stop: Townsville.

Road Trip: Babinda Boulders and Eddy Bay

I am posting this entry a little bit after-the-fact, but I decided it wasn’t fair to inform everyone of all my adventures with SIT and not write about my independent adventures.

After the program ended, Steve, Eva, Kelly, Lauren, and I planned to complete a road trip in a camper van from Cairns to Sydney. We planned to pick our Camperman camper up on the 14th (after saying good-bye to the five people who left on the group flight, and others who were leaving on their own travels), and head out that day. We went to pick it up at noon ($20 taxi ride) but it wasn’t yet ready. Kelly and Eva went back at 3:30 to pick it up, only to find that the van was a manual…which none of us knew how to drive. This was frustrating to us because the man who booked it for us, Andy, had promised us an automatic vehicle. It turns out they don’t even manufacture these campers as automatics. (That guy clearly knew what he was doing.) Kelly tried learning to drive it in the parking lot, but decided she was way too uncomfortable to be driving a huge van on the other side of the road in a foreign country in manual.

SO, Plan B. We booked another night at the Greenhouse in Cairns, (which was actually nice, because we got to spend a little bit more time with the people still there: Anders, Avery, Sam, and Geneveve). We booked a station wagon with camping gear to pick up the next day. Lauren decided to back out and get a bus ticket down the coast instead, because the station wagon would be extremely cramped and she has a bad back and didn’t want to camp the entire trip.

On the fifteenth, we went to pick up our vehicle. Now, Andy had told us that this car would NOT have a tape deck, only a CD player. So, we went to the trouble of buying a radio adaptor for our i-pods, even though we already had a tape-deck adaptor. Of course, we get the car and find out that it does indeed have a tape deck, and no CD player to be found. We also went through a lot of trouble filling out the paperwork to rent the car. They would ONLY accept a credit card for some insurance thing, and none of us had one. They wouldn’t take debit, cash, check, anything. So Kelly had to call her parents (even though it was after midnight at home), and they had to scan their passports, driver’s licenses, and credit card number, just so that we could get the car. Kelly was the first to drive on the left side of the road, and we drove our new pal, a red Ford Falcon, back to the hostel to pack it up. The station wagon was COMPLETELY packed. We couldn’t have fit anything else if we tried. At some points in the trip, when we packed it extremely well, we had about three inches to look out the back windshield. Eva went to return the i-pod radio adaptor, we did some food shopping, packed the car, said goodbyes, and left Cairns around 4:00 in the afternoon.

Kelly drove out of the city and we headed south on Route 1, the Bruce Highway. It was a beautiful day, and we drove past the rainforest-covered mountains of the area and the sun-lit sugar cane fields. Our first stop was at Babinda Boulders, a place Tony had recommended. (Babinda competes with Tully for the “wettest” place in Australia… the two cities have the highest rainfall each year.) We walked along a path through the rainforest at dusk. The path ran alongside a heavy-flowing creek, where huge granite boulders caused the water to churn and froth. The boulders formed really pretty rock pools in some places. We were going to camp at the boulders, because it was free, but all of the free campsites were taken and we didn’t want to risk getting caught, so we kept driving south to Eddy Bay.



It was a good thing, too! The caravan park we camped at was right on the beach. We could hear the waves from our tent. We set up camp in the dark, then went down to some picnic tables by the beach to cook our first dinner on our propane stove. It was late, so we didn’t want to get too extravagant; we just made cous-cous with some spices and things, then tea. We went to bed soon after. We woke up in the morning and began to pack away our campsite. It was about 8 o’clock, and we had about a two-hour drive to get to Tully, where we were going to go sky-diving. We had to be there by 11 o’clock. So we’re packing up our tents when out of the bushes pop…

TWO CASSOWARIES! Eva heard a rustling in the grasses, and we all looked up to see a large, brownish bird step out of the bushes. I wasn’t sure what it was at first—it resembled some combination of goose or stork—but then its father stepped out of the grasses behind it: a full grown male cassowary. They approached us slowly. “Keep something between you and the cassowary,” Steve calmly reminded us, and we got behind the car or inside of it to take photos. Now, for those of you who don’t know what a cassowary is, just keep in mind the fact that they have a huge talon that could gut a human being in one swipe. So we’re safe behind our car doors, taking photos. At one point, the father separated from his baby. Each was on the opposite side of our neighbor’s car. I thought the father was panicking because he couldn’t see his baby—he began to jump and attack the car, leaving a foot-long scratch on it—but he probably just saw his reflection in the tinted window.



I was standing behind the car and looking out over the top when I noticed a second father cassowary with a baby further down near the beach! I was super surprised to see a second pair (though we were surprised to see the first! These birds are rare!) because the birds are so territorial. I was right: as the second father approached our part of the campsite, the two began to get very angry with each other. We crouched in our car to watch them fight. Once, one of the babies attacked one of the fathers. He basically ran and jumped on him, and the father ran off. Other times, the baby nearest us would just plop down on the ground to wait. “Come on, Dad, I’m bored. Let’s move on. Get this fight over with already.”



One pair of cassowaries climbed up onto a small ridge while the other pair stayed below. Each patrolled back and forth, neither willing to go up or down, but neither willing to sacrifice their territory. After crouching in the car for so long without the cassowaries leaving, we decided we had to get our tents packed away so we could get on the road. It was an interesting few minutes as we began to take the tent down, then ran back to the car as the cassowaries came nearer, then back to the tent, back to the car… Eva and Kelly were in the middle of the lawn, when they had just finished putting away Eva and Steve’s tent, when one pair of cassowaries charged! I was safe in the car, but shouted “Guys! Look out!” in a most frightened voice. I’ve never seen any two people look more terrified in my life. Luckily, the cassowaries just charged past them, chasing a car up the drive.

Eventually, we made our way out of Eddy Bay and headed toward Tully for our sky-diving adventure. Steve drove this time. Our road trip was off to an excellent start – seeing those cassowaries so closely was probably the coolest wildlife experience we’d had. Their black feathers, fluffed up when they were angry; the large scales on their thick legs; their bright wattles; their prehistoric helmets and large beaks… We were truly lucky to experience those moments. Before, we had only seen a fleeting glimpse of a cassowary, about 100 yards away, on our rainforest trip. This was so much more amazing.

Story Eight: A Night of Tagging

Helping with Chelonia’s rescue was the first experience Delaney had with a sea turtle. She had taken a year off from her university studies in upstate New York and flown to Queensland to help with Craig’s research and volunteer at the Coral Ocean Aquarium and North Queensland Turtle Hospital. Watching Craig, Emily, and Dr. Bryson work on Chelonia, treating her injuries, giving her medicine, and feeding her, was inspiring. It saddened Delaney that the turtle had been left for dead after the boat ran over her, and that if Chelonia was breeding this year, she wouldn’t be able to lay the rest of her eggs. But Delaney was proud of the volunteer work that she would be doing in the coming months, and she was excited to participate in sea turtle research and conservation.

The evening after the rescue, Delaney met Craig at the aquarium. “Emily’s on her way,” Craig told her. “I got a call this morning from an Aboriginal man. He said he wants to come out tagging with us tonight.”

“Sounds good,” Delaney said. “What got him interested?”

“He just said he wanted to help conserve the species. It’s not uncommon for Indigenous people to want to get involved. They’re in the perfect position to be stewards for the species, and it’s important for them that a stable population of turtles is maintained so they can continue hunting them as they have always done,” Craig explained.

Emily rushed through the aquarium’s automatic doors. “Sorry I’m a bit late,” she said. “My parents kept me at dinner.”

“That’s okay. We’re on Murri time tonight,” Craig smiled. “A bloke who calls himself Blue Eyes is meeting us at the beach. You girls ready?”

The trio got into Craig’s pick-up and headed out to the same beach where Chelonia had been found. The sun had set before they arrived, and a deep violet dusk covered the empty beach. Craig handed each of them a small torch, covered with red cellophane to limit the brightness and glare. He brought his clip-board and data sheet down to the beach, and Delaney and Emily followed.

Blue Eyes was sitting at the top of the beach. He stood when he heard the others approaching.

“How ya goin’?” Craig asked, holding out his hand.

Blue Eyes shook his hand. “Good, thanks.”

“This is Emily and Delaney,” Craig introduced the girls. “Emily is working on her Ph.D. on sea turtles, and Delaney is here volunteering.”

“Nice to meet you,” Blue Eyes said.

“Nice to meet you, too,” the girls both answered.

The group all sat down at the top of the beach to wait. For the most part, Blue Eyes was silent. Craig and Emily chatted a bit, but Delaney was too excited to listen. She sat, hugging her knees to her chest, her eyes focused on the waterline. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as dusk turned into night. Her eyes never left the breaking waves.

“There’s one!” Delaney squeaked in as much of a whisper as her excitement would allow.

The group quietly stood, but they didn’t move closer to the great turtle lumbering up the beach. Delaney watched, silent and awe-struck, as the turtle chose a spot in the sand and began to dig her nest. She felt that she was the luckiest person in the world to be able to view this process of nature, and she was amazed at the pureness of instinct that led this turtle to the beach to lay her eggs.

The turtle filled her egg chamber with sand and started to conceal the nest. The sand flew all around the turtle; her face and eyes were powdered with it. When the turtle began to make her way back to the sea and had left some distance between herself and her nest, Craig motioned the group toward the turtle.

Craig and Emily showed Delaney and Blue Eyes how to tag the turtle. They measured her while Delaney recorded the numbers on Craig’s data sheet. The process was quick and silent, with minimal disturbance, and they soon let the turtle return her journey to the ocean.

Seventeen turtles came up to the beach that night to lay their eggs. The group silently patrolled the dark beach, and when the turtles finished laying their eggs, quickly collected their data and tagged the reptiles. Two of the turtles had already been tagged, and Delaney recorded their numbers so that Craig could later add their information to his data.

After midnight, Emily and Delaney headed to Craig’s pick-up. Craig lagged behind to talk with Blue Eyes.

“You’re welcome to help out anytime,” he told him.

“Thanks. I’d like to get more involved,” Blue Eyes said. “The turtle numbers are decreasing. I want my children to be able to keep tradition and culture alive, and sea turtles are a part of that. If there are no more sea turtles, a part of our culture is lost.” It was the most Blue Eyes had spoken that night.

“It’s one of many issues facing the species today,” Craig said. “The turtles don’t know how much they contribute socially, economically, culturally… People don’t know it either. If everyone could come out on a night like this and see the turtles for themselves, maybe there wouldn’t be so much plastic in the ocean or ghost nets floating around because of irresponsible people. But these problems do exist, so it’s up to people like us to limit them. When you take your own knowledge back to your community, other people learn. Education and awareness about the species is what will save them.”

Blue Eyes silently agreed. He knew that it wasn’t only the turtles that needed management and monitoring; it was also the people. He planned to do his part: both for the turtles and for his people. The two shook hands and parted, and Craig climbed into his truck.

“Is Blue Eyes going to come out with us again?” Emily asked.

“I think he will,” Craig said.

The ride back to town was silent. As they drove, the sky began to lighten into early dawn. Delaney gazed out her window at the colors passing by, sleepy but exhilarated. She wished she could share how she felt with Emily and Craig, but she knew that they had already had these initial feelings of excitement long ago. She hoped that the way she felt at this moment would last each time she saw a sea turtle. She hoped that she would have many more opportunities to see them. “If we’re careful,” she thought, “they’ll survive the challenges we’ve given them.” She smiled to herself. With conservation and education, the ancient animals would outlive everyone.

Story Seven: The Turtle Hospital

Craig called Emily from the North Queensland Turtle Hospital. It was getting on late in the evening by the time they got the turtle into the shallow tank used for surgeries. The vet was already on her way.

“Hey Emily, how ya goin’?” Craig asked when Emily answered her mobile.

“Not too bad. I’ve just finished entering my data,” Emily responded.

“Good, good. Listen, we’ve just got an injured turtle here at the hospital. Some blokes were snorkeling over at ¬Thunaroo Bay and found her. She must be a nesting female; she’s lucky the boat motor only hit her shell instead of her head.”

“Oh, geez. Is the vet on her way? I’ll come right over.”

“Yeah, Dr. Bryson is on her way. We need a few stitches on the front right flipper. See you soon,” Craig said, hanging up his mobile and returning to the turtle’s tank. Delaney was standing over the turtle, watching her sulk in the shallow water. “She’ll be okay,” Craig told her. “She must have just been hit today, so there hasn’t been much chance for infection yet.”

“Do you think she laid any of her eggs yet?” Delaney asked.

“I don’t know,” Craig said. “She may have laid a clutch or two. She won’t be able to lay them while she’s here, but she’s got a few breeding seasons left in her.”

“They don’t breed every year?” Delaney asked.

“Greens sometimes take up to eight years between breeding seasons, sometimes less. She’s probably still young. She’ll lay eggs again.”

Emily and Dr. Bryson arrived at the same time. “Let’s see her,” Dr. Bryson said, walking over to the tank. “Doesn’t look too bad. We’ll stitch up her flipper, cover up the shell, and give her a few antibiotics.”

Delaney watched as Dr. Bryson sutured the cut on the turtle’s flipper and Emily and Craig prepared fiberglass to cover the cuts on the turtle’s shell that were made by the spinning propeller. The fiber glass would protect the turtle’s organs while the carapace repaired itself.

“That should be good,” Dr. Bryson said as she finished up. She handed Craig some antibiotics. “I’ve already given her some for today, but make sure you finish the treatment. She won’t be able to get any infections with this. I think she’ll heal fast.”

“Thanks. We’ll be able to release her as soon as the carapace heals. It shouldn’t be more than a few months before she’s healthy again, but she’ll wear the scars from the boat strike forever,” Craig said.

Dr. Bryson left the turtle hospital when her work was finished. “Did you get her blood sample?” Emily asked Craig.

“Na, we’ll wait until she’s looking a bit better. We’ll be sure to tag her and take a sample before we release her. How’s the research coming?”

“Oh, it’s going well. I want to head up to Torres Strait next month to teach this one community about tagging and monitoring the nesting turtles. I’m just collecting and analyzing data until then,” Emily said.

“What kind of research are you doing?” Delaney asked.

“I’m looking at the affects of climate change on turtle nesting,” Emily explained. “The sex of turtles is largely determined by the temperature of the sand that incubates them. Warmer sand produces more females, so as the beaches become warmer, they produce more females than males, throwing off the sex ratio. Many nesting beaches are also being washed away because of more extreme storms and rising water levels. It’s going to be a long project; I only started it about a year ago.”

“That sounds really cool. And you also do tagging and monitoring at Torres Strait?”

“Yeah, I just do that when I have time to take a break from my project. It’s really interesting to talk to the Indigenous people there. They have this amazing cultural knowledge of the environment. There’s always a great exchange of scientific information for cultural information. They love helping out with the tagging.”

“That’s really great,” Delaney said.

“Delaney is helping us tag some turtles this week,” Craig interjected.

“Oh, really? How did you come by the turtle hospital?” Emily asked.

“I just wanted to do some volunteer work with turtles,” Delaney answered. “Just want to learn about them. I found out about Craig’s work online and contacted him.”

“Great,” Emily said. “You should give the turtle a name,” she told Delaney as Craig threw some lettuce in the tank for the turtle to eat.

“Yeah, don’t let Emily name her. She calls every turtle ‘Wayamba,’” Craig laughed.

“Oh, be quiet,” Emily smirked. “Wayamba was the first turtle I saw, and he made me interested in studying turtles.” She laughed.

“Let’s call her Chelonia, after her scientific name,” Delaney suggested.

“Chelonia it is,” Craig said, smiling.

Story Six: Rescue

In November, when the waters were a bit warmer than they had been, Carl decided to go snorkeling. He would often scuba dive on the Great Barrier Reef, and he never tired of the diversity of life he saw there. His favorite dive was a night dive beneath a full moon. The night was so bright that Carl could see almost everything with only a small torch in the dark water. There were white-tip reef sharks everywhere. A hawksbill sea turtle swam up to Carl and his mates. The turtle swam in circles around the group and stayed with them for nearly twenty minutes. The hawksbill was just as curious about Carl and his friends as they were about him.

Instead of diving, today Carl chose to snorkel in the shallower waters near the shore. It was sea turtle nesting season, and he hoped to see a few during the day before they made their journey up the beach at night. If he was lucky, he would see very large female green turtles.

Carl and his best mate James put on their stinger suits after lunch and walked down the beach to the edge of the water, looking for turtle tracks as they went. They put on their fins, masks, and snorkels at the edge of the water, and entered the ocean backwards so they would not trip.

The water still had some bite to it, but the pair snorkeled in the early afternoon despite the chill. They saw several sharks, plenty of fish, and many bottom-dwelling sea cucumbers and sea stars. They didn’t see many sea turtles until they began to swim closer to shore as the sun began to sink in the western sky. There were several large green sea turtles, swimming leisurely through the water, calmly coming to the top of the water to take a breath of air.

Carl and James watched the turtles they found until they swam away. They did not wish to disturb them, so they did not follow them. Carl was very adamant about not disturbing the sea life. He never touched anything he encountered. He would simply watch it, take a picture, and be on his way. When James was with him, he made sure that James did the same.

The pair took several pictures of the turtles they found with the underwater camera that Carl invested in shortly after he got his SCUBA diving license. They stayed with the turtles for so long that there was no longer enough light to take good photos under the water. When the sun had only an hour left in the sky, Carl called to James and the two began to swim toward shore.

Near the beach, Carl snorkeled past a turtle at the surface of the water. The turtle wasn’t swimming, just floating still. Looking closer, Carl saw that the turtle’s front right fin was cut open, and her shell had clearly been damaged. “Oy!” Carl called to James, after raising his head above the water and taking his snorkel out of his mouth. “There’s an injured turtle over here!”

James swam over to have a look. “Is it still alive?” James asked.

“I think she is,” Carl said. “She just must be very tired.”

“What should we do?”

“Go up to the beach and find my mobile phone,” Carl said. “There’s a number for the North Queensland Turtle Hospital there. Call them and tell them where we are. I’ll stay with the turtle.” Carl put his snorkel back on and put his face back in the water while James swam to shore.

The North Queensland Turtle Hospital was attached to the Coral Ocean Aquarium. Carl had their number because of the many dive trips he had been on. He had never rescued a turtle before, but he knew the problems that faced the species. Most of the problems were caused by humans.

From the water, Carl watched James reach the shore, take off his fins, and run up the beach. The turtle didn’t try to move away from him. James ran back into the water, doing dolphin dives and then swimming Tarzan-style until he reached Carl.

“Craig’s on his way,” James said.

“Good,” Carl said.

The two watched the turtle floating, occasionally swimming slowly across the surface, her wounded flipper limp at her side. They continued to watch her in the fading afternoon light. For the most part, she was motionless. “It’s like she has her own personality,” James said, in awe of the calm bravery of the wounded turtle.

Soon, Craig arrived. Craig was the director of the sea turtle hospital. He brought a volunteer, Delaney, with him. “Oy! We’ve got her over here!” Carl shouted, waving his arm at the top of the beach where the two stood.

Together, the group carried the sea turtle out of the water and onto a rescue stretcher specifically designed for carrying turtles. They carefully and laboriously carried the stretcher to Craig’s pick-up truck and put the great green turtle in the padded tray in the back.

“Thanks for the call, mate,” Craig said, shaking James’ hand and then Carl’s. “We’ll fix this girl up and she’ll be right soon enough.”

Craig and Delaney got back into the pick-up and headed toward the aquarium and turtle hospital. Carl and James peeled off their wet and salty stinger suits, gathered their snorkeling gear, and began to walk home, saddened by the injured turtle but happy that they had done something to help.

Story Five: Blue Eyes and the Small Green Turtle

On one of the few sunny days in early summer, before the storms of the Wet began, Blue Eyes took his boat out onto the water. His daughter was getting married, and Blue Eyes was hoping to get a sea turtle for the occasion. It was at his grandmother’s funeral, many years ago, that he learned that sea turtle meat was only eaten at very special occasions and ceremonies. Blue Eyes wasn’t sure how easily he would find one. There were many more jellyfish in the water in recent years, so he knew there were less turtles than there used to be.

There were two other people in the boat. Blue Eyes had invited his son and his nephew along to help him hunt the dhalwatpu, or green sea turtle. The green turtles were always hunted for their meat: because they are herbivores, their meat tasted much better than garun, the loggerhead, or guwarrtji, the hawksbill. Even though the miyapuna were endangered, Blue Eyes still felt it was okay to hunt them, because he respected the marine turtles. It was his right to supply his family with turtle meat on special occasions, just as his ancestors had done. Whenever Blue Eyes hunted, he used every part of the animal he killed. Nothing went to waste. Today, he would catch only a small green sea turtle. He would leave the larger ones be so that they could breed and lay eggs. The small dhalwatpu would feed all of the guests at the wedding. One turtle was all that was needed.

Blue Eyes drove his boat slowly around the bay. It was turtle nesting season, so he knew to be careful and not to disturb any egg-laying female turtles. The tide was low, and the water was clear. The three men looked across the water, watching for turtles surfacing to breathe the air.

“There’s a small one,” Blue Eyes’ son said, pointing. Blue Eyes steered the boat in the direction of his son’s outstretched arm. Keeping his eye on the small turtle, Blue Eyes reached for his wap, or harpoon. The wap was made of thick, heavy wood, but it was still light enough to float in the water. The tip of the wap was made from the gidu tree. String from the bark of the fig tree was hooked onto two barbs carved into the harpoon.

Blue Eyes’ son took over steering the boat as the group got closer to the turtle they had chosen. The turtle swam gracefully away from the boat, but she was diligently and patiently followed. When the moment was right, Blue Eyes threw the wap with speed and accuracy. The tip landed in the shell of the turtle, exactly where Blue Eyes had aimed. Never taking his eyes off the turtle, he tied the string from the fig tree bark to the side of the boat and watched as the turtle continued swimming, more and more slowly as the weight of the boat tired her.

The dhalwatpu swam less than one hundred meters before she was completely tired. Blue Eyes’ son jumped into the water and flipped the turtle onto its back, then brought it close to the side of the boat. Blue Eyes and his nephew pulled it up onto the boat by its rear legs. The turtle was small; Blue Eyes was positive that it was not yet nesting. The turtle would provide a great meal for the wedding, and Blue Eyes was satisfied with the hunt.

As his son climbed back aboard the boat, Blue Eyes heard the loud sound of a boat propeller hitting something. He looked up to see a trawler speeding across the bay. “Shit!” Blue Eyes heard someone yell. “It was a turtle. Should we go back and see if it’s okay?”

But Blue Eyes watched as the boat simply increased its speed across the water. Looking closely, he saw the name painted across the site of the boat in thick black letters: Humble Pine. Whoever was driving the trawler had no concern for the beautiful, endangered animals that had provided for Blue Eyes’ ancestors for generations.

Blue Eyes looked down at the small green turtle he had just caught and then looked out across the water where a turtle had just been hit by the boat motor. Blue Eyes remembered the story his grandfather had told him about the Rainbow Serpent, so many years ago. He wondered where the Rainbow Serpent was now, when a man had just killed a turtle for no reason. The turtle would go to waste; it would not provide for anybody. Blue Eyes had made sure that he chose a small turtle to hunt: one that would feed all his relatives and not go to waste.

But now Blue Eyes understood why the animals were so threatened, not only by Indigenous hunting, but by other human threats. He knew that global climate change was threatening the sea turtles as beaches were being washed away by more extreme tides and storms. But he had never seen the direct impact of a human killing a turtle with no concern for the animal’s numbers in the oceans.

At that moment, Blue Eyes understood that the sea country was not limitless. He had worried before about young Indigenous hunters taking more than they needed or not using traditional methods to hunt the dhalwatpu. But Blue Eyes was disgusted with the fishermen of the Humble Pine, who passed over the turtle as if it were as abundant as cane toads.

As Blue Eyes drove his boat home over the water in the late afternoon sunlight, he thought about ways that he could protect the endangered miyapuna. He wanted his grandchildren to have the same opportunities as he did to hunt the sea turtles for important occasions and celebrations, and he knew that he must play a role in sustainable community management of the species in order to conserve them for the future of his people.