Sail Fish

Email this story to a friend»

Before we hit the water off the west coast of Australia, let me introduce you to the new girl on the block. True North is a hundred and fourteen feet of buxom beauty. Steely sleek on the outside, creamy and soft on the inside. She has light and airy living space below that give the illusion of a spacious beach house. Topside she’s all business with a large dive deck, cushioned sunning area, and a shaded, fully stocked bar upstairs. The bridge looks like a spaceship command center. She’s equipped with all the toys. SATNAV, GPS, radar, autopilot - the office on board has phone, fax, and email. She also has the serious stuff like oxygen, life rafts, and fire fighting equipment. There’s room for a helicopter on the very top deck, but for dive trips this pad is used solely as a kamikaze spring board to the water twenty-five feet below.

Broome, a charming town on the far northwest coast of Australia, is where I met the boat. We were all ushered on board, shown our digs and promptly fed a buffet-style steak and salad dinner. Over wine and dessert, Captain Howson briefed us about the boat and introduced us to the crew. Greg Lee Steere, the divemaster extraordinaire, introduced himself and let us know there were “no worries”. He was right.

The fourteen hour crossing from Broome to Rowley Shoals aboard True North is easy compared to the fourteen hour transpacific plane ride from the U.S. Everyone can climb in a warm bunk and sleep. When she goes to her first haul-out next spring, new stabilizers will be added to make her ride even less like a boat and more like a monorail. How stable is she now? There are regular chairs on a parquet floor in the dining room.

The cabin I lived in was the classic twin berth with a shared bathroom (spanking clean each day), one door down. My room had a sink and mirror, drawers, hanging closet and room to dance a modified merengue in. The AC worked to rheostated perfection. I was struck by the beauty of the little details - fine design fixtures (my halogen reading light was simply a work of art), chrome fittings, lighting accents, cheery artwork and clean colors. With the capacity at 10,000 liters a day, hot and cold running water is not just an expression.

Snooping around, I drooled over the four staterooms with queen beds and real bathrooms attached. Palatial. She’s designed to carry thirty passengers and ten crew. For dive trips, there won’t be more than twenty divers. Eighteen would be best to allow comfort while tanking up.

Shaped for speed, True North can cruise effortlessly around thirteen knots. When Captain Howson wants to show off, or get somewhere quickly, he can crank her up to twenty-two knots. She digs in and flies. With an outdoor joystick at both port and starboard midships, the captain has enough control to back up to and pluck divers out of the water.

"Hovering in about 60 ft of perfect azure water, a sailfish came out of nowhere headed straight at me..."

Every dive is preceded by a drawn map and dive plan. Everyone is checked into and out of the water by the lovely Social Director/Party Fairy, Holly Tharp (sweetheart of Craig the Captain ). Dive computers are essential as you are diving within a prearranged time but at your own depth. There is no hand-holding, and to politely challenge time limits is totally acceptable. My old pearler friend swears his computer works perfectly when he dives like a maniac - he keeps it in his cabin...

The early dawn siting of Mermaid Atoll plays tricks with your mind. Cruising along in that deep, cobalt blue sea, completely surrounded with water and sky, up ahead you focus on something afloat on the horizon. It looks like a child’s vinyl swimming pool. It’s baby blue and just sitting on top of the water. Pretty soon it gets bigger and appears to be a house-sized tarp thrown on the water. Then True North navigates the narrow channel against a ripping current and we’re inside. Eight miles long and five miles wide, anchored dead calm in the world’s largest salt water swimming pool, two hundred miles out in the Indian Ocean.

First dive was a warm up off the North Wall. We loaded into three of the tinnies and headed to the outside for a deep dive. Looking into the atoll from out on the rolling sea at dinghy level was a lesson in feeling insignificant. Massive ocean rollers creamed the reef with unrelenting regularity. Naturally, our Aussie deckie, Dave wanted his surfboard. The dive didn’t look too promising from twenty feet. The reef was bashed from winter storms.

I felt like I was going down with an attitude cloud on my head, so I set my compass and went off to pout on a short trip out in The Blue. Hovering in about 60 ft of perfect azure water, a sailfish came out of nowhere headed straight at me. I was paralyzed until instinct took over and I got a shot of him before curling up to avoid imaginary impalement. My body pointed me in the direction of five more sailfish who passed ten feet away. My attitude changed significantly - I could die now and that would be fine.

Daily life starts with a 6AM cereal - your choice from Fruit Loops to granola, yogurt, fresh fruit, vegemite, and coffee breakfast. Then a dive, usually deep on the outside walls. Divers come back to REAL breakfast of eggs (anyway you like them - sometimes eggs benedict), bacon, sausage, ham, hot cereal, pancakes, french toast, fresh breads, hashers, and vegemite. Next is the big decision whether to dive again immediately or digest awhile and go play with the current.

I already knew about snorkeling the channel, so I needed no convincing - but others were afraid they might miss a dive, ‘wasting time’ on a snorkel. It only takes one good channel ride to make an addict - one who starts using the word ‘snorkel’ with just a hint of macho. Imagine the force exerted twice a day on the twenty foot wide, quarter mile channel as the ocean changes levels. This part of the world is famous for it’s extraordinary tidal changes of thirty or more feet, and Rowley Shoals catches plenty of this action off shore. As the tide goes out, the tinnies take us to the inside opening of the atoll. We all fall overboard and the rest is beyond our control.

Ripping along at about six knots we are carried along with every thing and everybody that happens to be in the water. The scenery whips by. Take a deep breath and dolphin kick down for an added thrill - your speed increases dramatically. Fish are frantically trying to get out of your way. Powerful feeling. At the end of the channel, the water turns deep blue and drops off the edge. In a little sandy vestibule, four or five white tips wait the atoll’s meals-on-wheels program - fresh twice daily. They look a little shocked as these snorting, howling humans come shooting out over their heads. Like little kids, the first words from everyone’s mouths are, “Do it again!!!”