Stretching from the tip of the North West Cape in Western Australia, reaching 260 kilometres south, lies one of the longest fringing coral reefs of our blue planet. This wildly beautiful coral reef and coastline is world heritage for all the right reasons. The Ningaloo Marine park is a megafauna highway for migratory dolphins, dugongs, manta rays and different types of whales. Its beaches are breeding grounds for loggerheads, green and hawksbill turtles with an estimated ten thousand turtle nests every year. It’s one of the largest biological structures known and even visible from space. There’s only a few very small towns along this unique marine paradise, where lonely bays and deserted beaches wait to be explored and glistening turquoise waters invite to superb snorkelling and scuba diving.

The Ningaloo has been on my wish-list for a long time. Initially, I wanted to come here to work as a dive instructor, which I still would, had I been here in the right season.
We approach the coral coast from the south. Bob has found a wilderness beach camping where the raw spirit of Ningaloo can be enjoyed.
A fair number of skippies greet us as we make it through the gate of the station. We check in for two nights and get a chemical toilet we’re supposed to use. We then drop the pressure of the tires for the four wheel driving part through the dunes required to get to our designated spot. We pull up to an open area just behind a rim of tall sand-dunes, sheltering the campsites from the continuous wind. After setting up our home for the night, I run off with my camera and see ocean for as far as the eye can see. It seems Warroora station’s website is right, it is ‘that well kept secret to experience a place unchanged for thousands of years, with empty white sand beaches you only know from pictures and paintings.’
Overnight the sky does it’s magic trick, millions of stars in the milky way make place for a perfect blue sky. A day in the middle of nowhere to get heated by the sun just enough to dip into the glistening turquoise waters. The swells are big and the wind isn’t helping either, so my first rendezvous with Ningaloo’s bright water is choppy and chilly. After rolling in the swell for about five minutes and knowing there is nobody around me, I coward out and enjoy the waters from the safety of the beach.
The firewood collected on a previous four wheel drive adventure comes into very good use here as it’s about nine degrees under the stars and that wind just doesn’t drop off.

Voted as one of the prettiest beaches of Australia, Coral Bay is the next stop on our itinerary. Once packed and ready, we drop the chemical dunny we never used (where to place it when sleeping in swags on a beach-landscape?) and head North. Warroora Station stretches along fifty kilometres of rugged coastline and gives us many spectacular views on the way out. Before leaving, we get a wonderful surprise by driving up a lookout and seeing a couple of humpback whales playing on the surface. Once we hit the bitumen I spot an emu, a silly big bird. In Coral Bay the decision to push on is made fast. Too many people, too many caravans, too not-our-thing, especially after our recent bush experiences. After picking up some necessities we make a stop at the beach where I beg them to go for a swim to have a peek at the reef. After a nod I run off to the famous white bay and within the few minutes in the clear waters, I spot some marine life I’ve never seen before.

We push on to Exmouth, which is about ten times bigger as Coral Bay but still has a small population of only 2.500 people. In high season this number triples by the sheer number of tourists. The town is low-key and its travellers are grey nomads and backpackers mostly. We find a spot at Yardies Homestead, on the Western side of the peninsula. The soaring wind keeps us awake at night, my swag wobbles in all directions and the tarp underneath it flaps madly. The wind doesn’t abate till lunchtime the following day. As it’s august we’re lucky not to get the monsoonal showers which end in July, but something else has stayed longer than normal…
High upon my bucket list is to go for a swim with the biggest fish in the world, the Rhincondon Typus, better known as the whale shark. From March to July these mysterious gentle creatures from the deep cruise through the Ningaloo waters in large numbers. Lucky for me they stick around a bit longer this year, so tours are still running daily.
This is big business, and I’m not sure whether to support it, but if anywhere, than here, Exmouth may have one of the most developed whale shark industries in the world, where strict regulations apply and the whales are harassed as little as possible. I’ve found this interesting research on the whale sharks behavioural responses to tourism interactions in the marine park. Nonetheless, it can’t be very relaxing for these animals to have several boats chasing them and people swimming alongside for several hours.
In Australia, only one boat at a time can approach a whale, while others need to take a minimum distance of four-hundred metres. The angle of approach needs to be sixty degrees, by doing this, the whale does not need to alter its swimming direction. Swimmers are not allowed to go in front of the whale and need to keep a minimum distance of four metres at all times. Breaking these simple but important rules, you get banned from the water.
We are going with ‘Ningaloo Whaleshark’nDive’. We hop from a bus on a dinghy on a yacht with some twenty other tourists. The yacht is massive and the crew is extremely smily-bouncy and super organised. The only things they can’t control are the weather and the whales and the weather is not on our side today; the wind picked up overnight and the breeze is freezing. Although the yacht must be way over sixty feet, the swells and wind make it roll in the waves in a way my stomach doesn’t handle very well. It’s around nine ‘o clock when we plunge into the water for a short snorkel tour. And although there’s big swells and the surface is choppy, the visibility is surprisingly good; we see two huge stingrays chilling in the white sand and a lone reef-shark chilling underneath one of the many beautiful coral bommies. I enjoy the swim, but not the cold waters of 21 degrees, the 3mm wetsuit just doesn’t do the job.

Back on the Allikai (the yacht) a long wait begins and spotter planes above us criss cross the skies looking for that big black dot we want to get close to. We need to keep our wetsuits on because speed is essential once a whale is found. Whereas I never tend to get seasick, I start feeling queazy and find myself hanging over the stern to eject brekkie, after this, I feel surprisingly good. Just as everybody’s served themselves a portion of the beautiful lunch, the boat turns around abruptly as a whale has been spotted. Plates are left and instructions followed to get ready to jump. Another company gets to go first and by the time it’s our turn, all we see is a black blob about ten metres underneath us. Crap, this is not what I came for… Absolutely freezing once back on board, the whale doesn’t re-surface. Trish has already taken off her wetsuit and is enjoying the sunny upper deck. The spotter plains have returned to base to refuel and there is no sign of any whale around us. By now I actually hope they’ll call it a day soon because I’ve had enough of this fruitless choppy hunt. Just as I say this out loud the captain stands up and shouts he’s found one! Half in disbelief and afraid of another disappointing plunge I get ready to jump. Bob and quite a few others already took off their wetsuits as they did not appreciate that first choppy swim, so the groups are halved from ten to five swimmers only.
They seem to take forever, these few minutes before getting in, but then we do, I follow our guide and we don’t need to look for long, a female whale is approaching us from the side! I let myself drift past it, reach the beautiful tail and swim alongside her quickly to keep up on the opposite side where it feels as if I am all alone with this magical creature. I am thrilled this is finally a reality and need to pinch myself to check if it’s really happening. The surface swell brings me closer and time seems to stop as I glide alongside the five metres of whale shark. A baby, considering a fully grown one can reach up to 18 metres in length! She’s clearly feeding, filtering the rich waters with zooplankton through her thousands of tiny teeth arranged in 300 neat rows in her gills. In front of her giant mouth there’s a small school of yellowtail fusilier and a remora is tagging along underneath her white belly. Amazing. Absolutely amazing. When we’re told to stop swimming all of us are pumped with excitement by the experience, and the fun isn’t over yet as we get another three swims with her, each as exciting as that first swim. What a beauty!
While I chat animatedly with some fellow Europeans about the images we’ve just stored safely as a precious memory, one of the many humpback whales in these waters seems to wave a big goodbye with its tail-fin which only I get to see. Magical Ningaloo, I’m happy you share your beauty.

The night seems to be a prelude for what’s to come on the Indian ocean today, strong gusts blow into our camp all night long. I’m going back out to sea today and there’s nothing to keep me from smiling. I may get sick, I may freeze, but mate, I’m going scuba diving in Australia, happy days!
Destination Muiron Islands as the famous top rated Navy Pier dive has been closed this year. From the twenty people on board a fair amount is Dutch or German so I get to chat the day away. The ride isn’t nearly as bumpy as the previous day and I enjoy being on a boat full of scuba gear. The dives themselves aren’t all-that to be honest. The corals are in very good shape I must admit, but where’s the fish? The Muirons are just outside the marine reserve, thus overfished. Nonetheless we see a green turtle swimming away from us and find a bunch of reef-sharks chilling on the bottom till we come by with our bubble-machines. I’m wearing a seven-mille and I’m making bubbles, I couldn’t care less about the rest of the world, I love it down here. The movement of the swell, the bubbles pushing through the blue mass, the fishies hiding in their hard tabletop corals and the sound of humpback whales singing in the distance, I’m loving every bit of it. It’s a beautifully sunny and flat day on the waters, and the pace is slow while Bob Marley sings no worries throughout the boat.
During lunch I sit on the bow and stare at the horizon where a handful of humpbacks precede each other jumping straight up from the water, causing giant splashes around them. There’s thousands of them cruising these waters this time of year, doing their mating dances and singing (love?) songs. I hold a tiny hope to find some wildly dancing humpbacks next to the boat when we’re on the way back which partly happens. A mother and her calf show their humpbacks a few times before disappearing in the blue depths of the Exmouth gulf.

During our last night in Exmouth we all mind our own business. Trish reads a book, I mess around with all my toys and Bob’s nowhere to be found. I go to bed around before eight ‘o clock, and for this one night the wind doesn’t pick up so we sleep like superstars. No more dreams of the wonders of the Ningaloo, they’ve become reality and put a smile on my face each time I think of them.