As the plane descends through a wispy layer of cloud, I get my first glimpse of Norfolk Island’s pine-covered slopes emerging from miles of deep blue ocean, and I’m reminded of its isolation. A cluster of historic buildings huddles along the island’s southern edge, along with an intriguing stretch of snorkelling terrain sheltered by a rocky wall. On its ocean side, crested waves foam and pound, but the inside channel looks safe enough and opens into the wineglass shape of Emily Bay. On my first snorkel, I’m to discover this scenic alcove is lined with coral and inhabited by a surprising variety of tropical fish.
Along with snorkelling, scuba diving was the last thing on my mind when I booked a trip to Norfolk, so it was a last-minute impulse to throw in my thickest wetsuit, mask, and fins the day before I left. On an equally tardy Google, I discovered the Norfolk Island diving Facebook page. Mitch responded quickly to my request, and he told me that he takes divers out when his daytime job finishes.
On a sunny morning, I head down to the Kingfisher Pier, where Mitch greets his group of 4 divers with a cheerful smile. His subsequent efficiency instills confidence. The process of boat launching both here and at Cascade pier on the north side involves a crane. As we balance on the boat while it’s lowered into the Pacific Ocean, a couple of divers crack jokes about the foaming swell all around.
Our dive site is only a short ride away, next to where rows of waves break over an exposed rock plateau. As always, the water is calmer below the surface. Down here, the visibility is excellent, and the topography is jagged and surreal. Rocky underwater pinnacles rise out of ledges. Submerged channels lie below. A vast shoal of fish hangs in the water above us. Behind them is a changing mosaic of swirling bubbles below the breakers. A reef shark zigzags through the currents with more energy than the sharks encountered in the warmer waters of North Queensland.
Like the shark, I fin hard, buffeted by the currents between channels and rocky outcrops. I’m glad for the excuse to keep my body temperature up, as I’m wimpy enough to find the 22 degrees centigrade water uncomfortable. It’s strange to be cold but at the same time surrounded by stretches of healthy coral and brightly coloured fish. Banded pharma fish have spaced themselves territorially apart and they jealously guard their coral bommies. They swim aggressively toward my mask and only veer away at the last moment when they realise I’m not giving in to their bossy behaviour.
As we ascend for a safety stop, a school of inquisitive trevally starts to encircle us. Their numbers swell until a silvery spiral of fish surrounds us. A fantastic end to a great dive. Back on deck, Mitch serves up mugs of much appreciated hot tea. Meanwhile, his off-sider teases him about his extensive marketing budget that amounts to nothing more than his Facebook page. Considering how easy it was to find him and then dive with him, I reflect he has made quite a sensible choice.
