“The tide is on the ebb,” he pointed out, “And there are too many rocks for my liking.”
“This is where we went SCUBA diving last weekend,” Muriel explained, “And that is my Gran’s.”
That just brought back memories of being scared underwater, and of causing embarrassment to Muriel’s Grandparents. ‘That photo certainly caused Old Mr Murchison to have a bad turn,’ Andrew mused. Once again he tried to change the thoughts in his mind by thinking about Muriel. At every opportunity, when it would not appear he was doing so, he studied her and hoped. That helped but so did the requirement for some tricky tacking to avoid a shoal of semi-submerged rocks off the next point.
Andrew then refocussed his thoughts on admiring Muriel, noting her clear, tanned skin, firm jaw, bright eyes and short brown hair being whipped around her ears by the wind. ‘She is really pretty,’ he thought. ‘I mustn’t upset or annoy her.’ He began to consider how he could move their friendship forward.
The voyage took them right out to False Cape. Andrew had been past there before when sailing and stared up with new interest at the old World War 2 coast defence gun positions in the scrub. His reading gave him a new appreciation of their place. ‘I must visit them for a closer look,’ he thought, his gaze travelling up the long ridge studded with trees and bushes and noting several man-made structures as it did.
Only when they were level with the end of the cape and encountering the larger waves sweeping in from beyond Cape Grafton did they turn back. As they did Muriel pointed out to sea. “I can see Green Island,” she cried.
Andrew shielded his eyes and looked. As the sailboat rose on the crest of the next wave he clearly saw the flat, grey-green shape that marked the coral island. It was a sight he had often seen before, but this time it caused his stomach to turn over again.
Muriel made it worse by saying to Cadet Midshipman Armstrong, “We are going diving there tomorrow. It will be great fun, don’t you think Andrew?”
Andrew could only nod and grin, then despise himself for being a weakling and a coward. He was ashamed of being scared of going underwater, and also depressed at not having the moral courage to tell the truth. ‘Only three more SCUBA dives,’ he consoled himself. ‘Then I will never have to do it again.’ Knowing that the water off Green Island was usually crystal clear and not all that deep helped him to calm his growing anxiety.
His apprehension grew as the afternoon and evening wore on. It even overshadowed the pleasure at being with Muriel and of knowing he would be with her most of the following day. It made him tense and snappy and she twice frowned at him, causing him to silently curse himself for being a weakling and a fool.
That night he had another nightmare. This one began well enough; with him sailing on the deck of a large yacht. Somehow the yacht shrank to a Corsair, then to a tiny, single-sail ‘Sabot’. By then the vessel had sailed rapidly out of a harbour past mangroves and into deeper water where the waves became increasingly large. Then the Sabot became a sailboard and Andrew was drenched by spray and cold. By then he was scared and trying to turn back to the shore, which now looked to be a dismayingly long way off. In the same frustrating way the sailboard slipped under and he found himself in the water. As a strong current swept him on out to sea and into larger and larger waves he began to panic. Somehow he found himself under water and looking frantically in all directions for a huge shark that had materialized.
He woke up feeling tired and anxious, a sick feeling in his stomach. As he lay there he considered saying he was sick as an excuse not to go diving but when Carmen came to the door of his bedroom, all cheerful and raring to go, he could not summon the courage to lie. Instead he smiled back and dragged himself out of bed, dreading the day.
By 9:00 am he and Carmen were on a large ‘Quickcat’ ferry heading out from the Cairns wharves. With them were Sub Lt Sheldon, PO Walker, Muriel, Blake, Shona and Luke Karaku, a Torres Strait Islander. Both Andrew and Carmen had been to Green Island several times before over the years, as had Muriel, but neither Blake nor Shona had been. Andrew tried to take his mind off the coming ordeal by focusing on nautical things like how the big, powered catamaran handled the waves and by talking to Muriel. Even so he became increasingly tense as the flat outline of the island appeared over the horizon, then seemed to slide inexorably closer.
Muriel stood at the front rail laughing and relishing the occasional showers of spray. Her eyes danced with the joy of living and she cried happily, “It’s a perfect day!”
It was. It was North Queensland winter at its best- real ‘Tourist weather’. The sun shone. The sea sparkled. The wind was just cool enough to make Andrew wish he had a pullover on. The dozens of tourists all wore casual ‘tropical’ clothes, as did the friends. Among the tourists were many very attractive female ‘backpackers’. Some of these wore very skimpy bikinis or short, revealing clothing that got Andrew both interested and then ashamed.
For a while the waves were quite large but Andrew was a good sailor and merely enjoyed them. He was also interested to watch a large bulk carrier making its way north along the ‘inshore route’ inside the Barrier Reef. By the time it had ‘sunk’ to hull-down in the distance the launch was nearly at Green Island. As the launch nosed in through an opening in the reef Andrew stared hard at the shallow water on either side. As always he was astounded at how clear the water was. The transition from the deep blue water in the channel to the pale green, almost clear water over the coral sand he found amazing.
At 10:00 the Quickcat edged in to tie up at the long concrete finger pier that jutted out for 500 metres from the island. Green Island itself was just a low, flat sandy cay; covered with trees and buildings. A narrow strip of white sandy beach showed between the trees and the water. The group disembarked with the other passengers and then walked in along the pier. As they did Andrew kept looking over the side at the brown patches of coral that showed clearly on the sandy bottom.
‘It looks nice and clear,’ he told himself, trying to build up his confidence.
At the end of the jetty they were met by a man who had their equipment. This was being hired for the day and there was a half hour of trying things on for fit. Having endured a pair of fins that did not fit properly during the pool training Andrew made sure he had ones that did. It had been astonishing to him quickly the rubbing had developed into quite sharp agony!
The first swim was to be with a snorkel instead of SCUBA. That suited Andrew. He had been snorkelling before and could cope with that, as long as they stayed in shallow water near the shore. Even so he was so anxious he barely had time to appreciate Muriel’s female form as she pulled her wet suit on over her bathers. Then they were walking down the beach, fins in hand. As they waded in beside the end of the pier Andrew could not stop himself from continually looking out towards the encircling dark blue water, his mind trying to suppress thoughts of sharks and other creatures.
‘At least it isn’t the ‘Stinger Season’,’ he thought. During the period from October to May each year deadly jellyfish sometimes infested the coastal waters, making swimming in the sea a hazardous activity.
The water still felt cold- at least to a person acclimatized to the tropics. Andrew was glad to lower himself in out of the wind. After spitting in his facemask and then rinsing it he adjusted it for a good fit. Then, with an answering smile to Muriel, he slid forward in the water. Side by side they swam out into deeper water. The bottom shelved very gradually so that even a hundred metres from the beach it was still only about 5 metres deep. There was very little marine life and the few outcrops of coral were unimpressive. Andrew saw a few tiny grey fish, then a larger one, then a few tiny blue and black striped ones before finally spotting a really pretty coral sunfish. For a few seconds he admired its bright yellow stripes before the movement of another snorkeller sent it flitting away among the coral rocks.
The proximity of dozens of other snorkellers was both a comfort and a source