Absolute Wonder

Everything seems larger than life in Australia's Tropical North Queensland

For a moment we hover, about a foot apart, above the reef-encircled sand patch. I almost giggle into my snorkel — she looks so like a Labrador waiting hopefully for a pat. I beckon her toward me and I'm amazed when she inches forward. "They love being tickled under the chin," our snorkel guide, Lindsay, had told me before we entered the water. I reach out tentatively and find a soft, slippery spot beneath her jowls. As I stroke it with my fingertips, she edges closer still, gazing intently up at me, almost purring. That's done it. I'm in love — smitten with a giant potato cod.

Life Underwater

My undersea encounter takes place in the Coral Sea, off Tropical North Queensland. This vast, untamed section of Australia's northeastern coast encompasses two UNESCO World Heritage sites: the Great Barrier Reef, which extends for 1,430 miles offshore and covers an area larger than New Mexico; and the Wet Tropics, a 3,452-square-mile section of the mainland coast that's home to millions of acres of rainforest, including the oldest rainforest land on the planet.

No place I've seen matches the color and diversity of the Great Barrier Reef. Likewise, I've never seen a place that reverberates with life like Queensland's rainforests. Both are within easy reach from Cairns — a 45-minute boat ride will get you to the inner reef, while a short drive will find you surrounded by ancient trees.

Even to a regular visitor, the Great Barrier Reef is imposing in its enormity. The largest reef system in the world, it's also the only organic structure visible from beyond the earth's atmosphere. But even that view doesn't give you the complete picture, for the reef isn't a single, unbroken coral barrier, as it appears from space, but a fragmented collection of 2,900 reefs with hundreds of cays and continental islands. Meanwhile, the rainforests of the Wet Tropics contain the largest range of plants and animals of any habitat on Earth, with some species that have survived and regenerated here for 135 million years.

On this trip I'm determined to move beyond mere admiration, to a deeper connection with both reef and rainforest. Wherever I go, I'm following the old travel adage that to truly get to know a place, you have to meet the locals, even when the locals include friendly giant fish.

The giant potato cods on the outer reef off Lizard Island have no fear of humans.

Seeking Close Encounters

It takes 10 minutes before I can tear myself away from my new underwater friend, but there's so much else to see at the Cod Hole that I have to move on. Located just a short boat ride from where I'm staying on Lizard Island, the Cod Hole is one of the top dive and snorkel sites on the entire Great Barrier Reef.

As I fin toward the submerged reef, my eyes immediately encounter a swirling blaze of color. A gorgonian fan, resembling a fiery red fern with its intricate structure, reaches out from the reef. Behind it, a lobster-colored coral head rises up, looking like a wrinkled brain. And all around me, soft corals jiggle in a rainbow of hues. As I advance, I float above a mist of even more colorful small fish that seem to cling to the reef. There appear to be as many as 50 different species in the space of 30 feet, from minuscule lime-green gobies to mauve and yellow angelfish to neon-blue damselfish. At a drop-off to deeper, darker water, I watch as seven large, strange-looking humphead parrotfish forage for brunch. Then a small reef shark glides into view, the white tip of its dorsal fin contrasting with its sleek gray torso. There's no need for alarm, as there's abundant food for all creatures here.

Near the end of our hour-long snorkel, I slow down to get a more intimate feel for the reef and dwell above a single patch of coral, ranging in color from off-white to pink and purple to bright orange. Now I can clearly see the different shapes and textures. There are stag corals shaped like stubby branches or large cattle horns, and sponges, some perfectly round, others as long and slim as bathroom loofas. All sit along a reef that is in turns, spiny, mottled, and plate-like.

Zeroing in on a nudibranch, a mauve — and yellow-spotted mollusk, gripping onto its host coral, I sense the interrelationship among all the living things on the reef. That appreciation is underlined when, to my delight, I spot a tiny orange clownfish with thick white stripes — a real-life Nemo — hiding out amid the swaying arms of a purple anemone.

Beached on a Slice of the Ice Age

In addition to experiences like the one I enjoyed on the reef, Lizard Island — a rocky outcrop an hour's flight north of Cairns — also offers a chance to explore one of Australia's continental islands.

Originally a chunk of the mainland, Lizard Island was left behind when rising seas swamped Australia's northeast coast at the end of the last ice age, some 9,000 years ago, about the same time the Barrier Reef began forming in the Coral Sea. By then the land was already a place of cultural significance to the Dingaal Aboriginal people — a site for initiations and important gatherings.

More recently, Lizard Island proved vital to explorer James Cook, credited as the first Westerner to discover Australia. In August 1770, Cook's ship the Endeavour was trapped inside what he thought was an unbroken wall of coral. By climbing a thousand feet to the top of a knoll on the island, Cook was able to spot gaps in the reef and plot a passage into the open sea.

Before leaving, Cook named the island for its monitor lizards. The prehistoric-looking reptiles still live there today, some roaming on the lawns in front of the island's resort. They're part of a delicious view that pans out over tropical gardens and the white sands of Anchor Bay, one of 24 beaches encircling the island.

With Lizard Island surrounded by a fringing reef, you can literally walk out into the warm water and find yourself swimming above a teeming coral garden. This afternoon, I've taken a small boat to Watson's Bay, around a promontory from the resort. Anchoring off the beach, I spend an hour discovering beds of giant clams, their wavy lips opening and closing gently as if they are yawning. They're entitled to be tired — some of these enormous individuals are over 100 years old.

Giant clams abound in a variety of colors and shapes.

Being Green

After the remoteness and intimacy of Lizard, a visit to Green Island, a tiny resort isle and national park, just a 45-minute boat ride from Cairns, feels a bit like arriving at a Barrier Reef Disney-land. Day-trippers are everywhere on the button-shaped, rainforest-clad coral cay, which is less than a mile in circumference and just under 300 yards wide. They're out on glass-bottomed boats, snorkeling in groups off the island's beaches, and crowding into the under-water observatory beneath the pier.

But a short stroll into Green Island National Park is all it takes to find some space. Following a boardwalk that offers information about the park, I enter a shady rainforest, thicketed with vines, and the human hubbub is soon replaced by the swishing of ferns and leaves in the breeze. Green Island is the only one of the Barrier Reef's cays — islands formed above existing reefs by an accumulation of sand and coral debris — that has a rainforest.

In the evening, Green Island is beautifully tranquil, as the sun sets over the mainland and troops of buff-banded rails — small brown flightless birds — come out. This too is like a place of Aboriginal legend. The Guru-Gulu Gungandji tribe associates the island with the story of a small turtle that ventured into a crab hole and had two holes pierced in its nose by the claws of the irate custodian. But the turtle was rewarded for its bravery with easier breathing and the envy of other turtles. That legend lies behind the island's traditional nose-piercing initiation.

As I take an early-morning snorkel, I almost bump into a small greenish-brown turtle, nostrils clearly visible, wafting above some sea grass. After four days of intimate discoveries, this graceful vision provides me with one final memory of the Great Barrier Reef before I head to the rainforest of the mainland.

Prowling for Bush Tucker

"Gotcha!" exclaims Linc Walker as he darts between the gnarled arms of a coastal mangrove tree. For the past hour, we've been padding barefoot along muddy fishing grounds in front of his Cooya Beach home, 45 miles north of Cairns, searching for fish and mollusks.

The Kuku Yalanji people, Walker's tribe, have lived among the coastal rainforests of the Wet Tropics for thousands of years, and he teaches visitors about the importance of these mangroves to the tribe's survival. Growing in knotty swaths between the rainforest and the sea, the plants provide protection from saltwater erosion, a nursery for fish, and a reliable food source. "He's only a little fella," chuckles Walker, as he emerges holding a sizable mud crab carefully by the carapace, "but he'd make good eating."

As the mud crab rattles its pincers and fixes its beady black eyes on me, I feel like I'm on the menu. "See," asserts Walker, letting the cranky crab scuttle away and uncovering a whelk, "the mudflats are just alive with bush tucker [an umbrella term describing indigenous food found on the land]. But we've always been careful not to overfish or take too many mollusks here." Like the reef and the rainforest, the mangroves have a complex ecosystem in which everything has its place. We don't want to disturb that."

Walker ends the tour with a demonstration of how to throw a spear. Judging by my feeble attempts to hit the target, this area would remain safe from overfishing if left in my hands.

Listening to the Rainforest

That night I bed down in the midst of the rainforest at the Thala Beach Lodge, a 45-minute drive north of Cairns. The eco-resort is built in complete harmony with its surroundings, with stylish wooden cabins scattered among 145 acres of trees. Guests can experience six different habitats within the grounds, from mangroves and coastal forest behind the resort's long beach to dry eucalyptus woodland to large stands of coconut trees.

After dinner, I just make it back to my room before a massive downpour hits. I watch from my veranda as dark storm clouds billow up over the Coral Sea, lit by skewers of lightning. Within minutes the clouds have us surrounded, and a torrent of fat raindrops comes pelting down, bouncing off the broad leaves of surrounding trees. "So that's why they call it a rainforest," I observe wryly. Although the heavy shower lasts only a half hour, the influx of energy is palpable and the trees and plants around the cabin are left humming and dripping. I go to bed feeling as if I'm sleeping inside a vibrant cocoon.

When I wake early the next morning, the forest remains damp. But it is tuneful too, with the cooing of doves, the squawking of parrots, and the tweeting of little honeyeaters echoing all around.

Floating Under the Canopy

Having explored its coastal edges and slept among its trees, my final rainforest experience is perhaps the most intriguing — a drift snorkeling trip on the Mossman River.

Led by guides Barney and Michaela Flood, I begin the tour by launching off face-down into the clear, sweet-tasting tropical river. At first, as I clumsily negotiate rapids swelled by overnight rains, I barely notice the surroundings. But once I gain confidence and slow down, the ride downstream is serene yet thrilling. As we shimmy gently along, I spot large river perch silhouetted against the sandy bottom, and three freshwater turtles cross my path. When we pause at the riverside, bright blue-breasted kingfishers flit between the trees and Ulysses butterflies with iridescent blue-green wings flutter by.

But the highlight comes when we turn onto our backs. As we coast along through patches of refracted sunlight and gaze up into the radiant canopy, an intricately woven tapestry of heavy branches, deep-green foliage, and sprawling vine-like epiphytes, I feel totally in rhythm with the pulse of the world's oldest rainforest. Just as I sensed with the Great Barrier Reef, I can now experience the rainforest as a living, breathing entity where everything, including me, is connected.

— Daniel Scott

Getting There: Continental offers nonstop service to Cairns from its hub in Guam.

Down to Details

Lizard Island. One of Australia's finest resorts, situated right on the Barrier Reef, 150 miles north of Cairns, it features 40 spacious suites, the top-class Ospreys restaurant, and the award-winning Azure spa. 61.2.8296.8010, lizardisland.com.au

Green Island. A luxurious resort on its own coral cay, Green Island offers numerous activities for guests, an excellent restaurant, and 46 suites. 61.7.4031.3300, greenislandresort.com.au

Thala Beach Lodge. A 45-minute drive north of Cairns, Thala Beach Lodge, near Port Douglas, sits within its own rainforest. 866.998.4252, thalabeach.com.au

Kuku Yalanji Cultural Habitat Tours. Learn how to track wildlife and even how to throw a spear with this outfit based in Cooya Beach, 45 miles north of Cairns. 61.7.4053.7001, bamaway.com.au/kukuyalanji.html

River Drift Snorkeling Tours. Back Country Bliss Adventures leads snorkeling trips on the Mossman River. 61.7.4099.3677, backcountrybliss.com.au

Tourism Tropical North Queensland. Visitor information. tropicalaustralia.com.au

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Photographs: George Fetting