65 miles east of the Australian coastline, lying across the Tropic of Capricorn, is Heron Island, forty acres of coral sand and lush small trees surrounded by a large coral reef. Think of Heron as a gumdrop placed in the center of a big, oval platter filled with water. The gumdrop is the island. The reef rim is the rim of the platter, where the coral is exposed at low tide. The platter is the reef lagoon. And outside the rim, the ocean drops away to great depths where coral cannot live. But in the lagoon and on the outside edge of the reef, is a world of life and color so beautiful and diverse that it defies description. Nine hundred species of fish live on Heron Reef, hundreds of species of corals, green sea turtles, giant clams of every color, creatures ethereal and bizarre, delicate and dangerous, more exquisite than the best work of art by any master. We are lucky to be among those who have visited Heron. This was my fourth visit, and I am still enchanted. Above is a photograph of a school of Pedley's fusilier, one of my favorite fishes, also known as the yellow-tailed fusilier.
If this is not a place of magic, then there are none. The photos do not begin to tell the tale of this blue paradise, and of course, the colors are not the way the eye sees them at the time. All the shimmer and movement is gone. But -- where did I get these photos? I must say (puff, puff) that I took them myself, with my very, very small Olympus Stylus camera, that took all these photos, dipping in and out of the sea more easily than I did myself! It was lovely to take photos underwater with no fuss or muss, and then take photos above water as well.
Heron Island's forty-some acres house both a small resort and a university research station. Even so, it is not unusual to find oneself the only one on the beach. The water is like silk. It's difficult to believe that there are so many living things in such a small area. Above right: that dark thing in the water is Scott, snorkeling along in water barely deep enough to float a person! He is seeing chunky green parrotfish and a huge, silvery-blue school of minnows at this point. On the horizon is an oceangoing yacht anchored in the channel between Heron Reef and nearby Wistari Reef.
I took these photos one afternoon snorkeling in about four feet of water -- or less! The parrotfish, above left, are about 20 inches long, chunky fellows that bite off hard coral and grind it with their internal teeth, extracting all the organic matter. What comes out the other end is pure white sand. The rabbitfish are about the same size as the parrotfish, but not as chunky in body, scrawled beautifully with orange over silver, and sporting a big yellow polka dot on each side near the tail. This school of rabbitfish was in about 20 inches of water.
In deeper water, above left, we found a big school of blue trevally. These relatives of tuna are swiftly swimming predators. These fellows in the school were about 2.5 feet long. Green sea turtles are common in Heron's lagoon, and this was the mating season. Later, the females will come ashore, dig pits in the sand at night, and lay hundreds of ping-pong-ball-like eggs -- and in January and February, the tiny turtles will make their way to the water. This tired mating pair had been stranded by the ebbing tide and waited until the next high tide floated them back into the lagoon.
Two reef walkers wade from the island out toward the edge of the reef as the tide ebbs. The dark blotches in the water are corals, and the coral forms a solid mass at the outer edge of the reef. As the tide ebbs, coral at the outer edge of the reef is exposed.
In the lagoon, many small fish, like this threadfin butterflyfish and these little humbug damsels and yellow damsel, hug corals so they can hide if a predator comes calling. If you look closely, you can see other fishes as well. It has been quite a surprise to me as I go through the reef photos, as often I captured images of fish that I hadn't realized were in the photograph!
Above, a colorful wrasse swims in front of me as I snorkel on an incoming tide. Nearby, a group of blue-green chromis, one of the most abundant fish on the Great Barrier Reef, flashes color at my camera as I approach a little coral head. Snorkeling Heron Reef, for someone who loves fish, is paradise.
Some Reef Herons are gray like this one and others, even nest "littermates" are pure white.
In water so shallow that it would barely float me, I took this photo of blue-green chromis, striped sergeant-majors, a pair of black-backed butterflyfish, and a yellow damsel. I felt surrounded by sunlight. It was with great regret that we left Heron Island, with a strong resolve to return again very soon.
