THE OCEANOGRAPHIC SPOTLIGHT
Western Australia
OCEAN STATE
WHERE NATURE MEETS CULTURE
ON THE COVER
The landscape of the Pindan in the Kimberley is characterised by contrasting fiery reds and deep ocean blues. Photograph by Michael Haluwana.
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EDITOR Nane Steinhoff
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ISSN: 2516-5941
Editor’s Letter
“This place leaves a mark on everyone who gets to experience its wonders. Some, like me, come for a short while but end up never leaving the region,” says underwater photographer Brooke Pyke
Western Australia is the epitome of adventure. Australia's largest state is home to myriad species, breathtaking, untouched nature, and ancient Aboriginal heritage. With more than 12,500 kilometres of coastline, it also is the perfect destination for surfers, divers, boaters, snorkellers and all of those in love with the ocean.
I was thrilled when I got the opportunity to travel to Western Australia to experience the state's inherent relationship with the sea, while learning more about the region's charismatic wildlife, its history and its colourful underwater world from the locals that call this special place at the edge of the world their home.
We start off by visiting the UNESCO World Heritagelisted Ningaloo Reef / Nyinggulu to meet one of the reef’s most famous inhabitants, the gentle whale shark. To find out more about one of the world's largest orca congregations, we travel south to Bremer Canyon. And for those seeking wilderness, we immerse ourselves in the Kimberley region. Moving on, we learn more about astonishing conservation projects in Shark Bay / Gathaagudu and dive the pristine, still relatively unknown reefs of the Rowley Shoals. Last but not least, we meet the locals of Mandurah / Mandjoogoordap, Western Australia's second largest city.
Nane Steinhoff Editor
@nane_steinhoff
If you've already been to Western Australia, I invite you to revisit some of the magnificent places this special region has to offer. And if you haven't yet been or want to discover some unexplored corners, I hope the following pages will give you some insightful travel inspiration to explore Western Australia for yourself. Awe-inspiring wilderness and boundless natural adventures await.
NINGALOO'S WHALE SHARKS
ORCA CONGREGATION
CONSERVATION IN SHARK BAY
RAW KIMBERLEY
A collection of some of the most captivating ocean photography from Western Australia shared on social media, both beautiful and arresting. Tag #MYOCEAN for the opportunity to be featured.
Each Spotlight, we chat with one of the world’s leading ocean photographers and showcase a selection of their work. In this edition, we speak with award-winning aerial photographer and Western Australia local Michael Haluwana.
I 20 Meet the whale sharks of Ningaloo Reef / Nyinggulu I 34 Travel to Bremer Canyon for a mysterious orca aggregation I 42 Experience the cultural wonders of the Kimberley I 84 Find out how conservation helps the flora and fauna of Shark Bay / Gathaagudu I 92 Dive the pristine Rowley Shoals I 102 Explore diverse ecosystems around Mandurah / Mandjoogoordap
Underwater photographer Brooke Pyke explains how she fell in love with Western Australia and why she decided to move to this special region.
“We sailed into Mermaid Atoll after a two-day journey and were greeted by about ten manta rays in crystal-clear water. We stayed in the water with them until sunset. The beauty and diversity of the Rowley Shoals never ceases to amaze me. It's one of my favourite places to dive on the planet.”
Alex Westover
Rowley Shoals
# MY OCEAN
Ningaloo Reef
“On an especially calm and glassy day on Ningaloo Reef, we came across a pod of Indo-Pacific bottlenose dolphins. The water was so calm I could see them blowing bubbles just before surfacing to clear the water from their blowhole.”
Jake Wilton
“A school of spangled emperor and other reef fish gather at the surface while a mackerel cloud passes overhead.”
Jake Wilton
Ningaloo Reef
# MY OCEAN
“I captured this image of the Ningaloo Reef with a drone at sunrise, with no wind and during the lowest tide. This image offers a glimpse into the complexity and diversity of coral reefs, showcasing a shallow section of dense hard coral gardens at their vibrant best. While fortunately many parts of this ecosystem remain resilient, it is a fragile coral reef that needs to be preserved.”
Alex Kydd
Coral Bay
# MY OCEAN
“The sheltered warm waters of the Ningaloo Reef and Exmouth Gulf are the perfect rest spot for humpback whales on their annual migration from Antarctica. This was a particularly special moment; a whale glided over the fingers of the shallow reef, its pectoral fins held out still and calm almost as if it were flying.”
Anouska Freedman
Ningaloo Reef
# MY OCEAN
deeper DIVING
The UNESCO World Heritage-listed Ningaloo Reef / Nyinggulu attracts ocean enthusiasts from all over the world. Sydney-based freelance writer Cameron Wilson travels to the region to meet one of the reef’s most charismatic inhabitants, the gentle whale shark, and learn more about some innovative citizen science projects.
Words by Cameron Wilson
Photographs by Tourism Western Australia
Dr Mark Meekan, Senior Research Fellow at the Oceans Institute, University of Western Australia, is a whale shark expert. Which is just as well, because what I watch him do, on video, is gobsmacking. Wearing a wetsuit, weight-belt, mask, snorkel and fins, Mark slides into the ocean on Australia’s Ningaloo Reef / Nyinggulu. He dives a few metres to where an eight-metre juvenile male whale shark swims, unconcerned by his presence. Mark equalizes his ears, reaches down and gently touches the lips of the shark. Far from alarmed, the shark slows, appears almost hypnotized. Mark tips the shark upwards and eases it towards the surface. “As far as he’s concerned, I’m a big clumsy cleaner fish,” Mark says. “I scrape parasites from his lips for microscopic analysis, while he sits there and enjoys the clean.”
In 1998, Mark Meekan was working as a fisheries biologist, collecting swarms of krill around Exmouth Gulf. It occurred to him that the whale sharks, which he had seen gathering in numbers during March until August on Ningaloo Reef, were after the same food source, so it might be simpler to find them instead. He was soon applying for money to tag and track 60 sharks in order to learn more about their migratory patterns. He’s been researching them ever since. “Tagging is so much more sophisticated now, we can see where the sharks are at different depths, and for how long, get information on body temperatures, even tail beats and body movements.”
Ningaloo is a fringing reef, meaning it lies close to shore – barely 100 metres in some places. Beginning by the town of Exmouth, it runs south for 260 kilometres before petering out at Amherst Point. It is easily accessible to humans, but Ningaloo’s geographical positioning, off the northwest coast of Australia, has thus far protected it from elevated levels of human activity.
DISCLAIMER: Touching the wildlife is not permitted.
PREVIOUS: A photographer swims alongside a whale shark. THIS PAGE: Aerial view of Ningaloo Reef and Cape Range National Park.
“Ningaloo is a fringing reef, meaning it lies close to shore – barely 100 metres in some places.”
An ecotourism company taking visitors to see whale sharks off Coral Bay.
“We think they are sexually mature at 30 or 40 years of age, but we still don’t know where they breed, presumably places out in the deep ocean.”
Whale sharks are filter feeders. According to Mark, this makes them a perfect indicator species. “They’re harvesting everything that’s out there, not just plankton and varieties of small fish, but plastics, strands of ghost nets. They provide information about the productivity but also the problems of the oceans.” Mark uses a small ultra-sound too, swimming beneath a shark and running the machine along its belly, examining it internally without disturbing it. Typical of human innovations put to imaginative uses, these small, water-proof devices were originally developed for UK veterinarians who have to work with farm animals in sometimes wet and muddy fields.
Whale sharks are quite well-studied, thanks to identifiable gatherings of individuals in shallow waters. Even so, much about their breeding cycle is unknown. “The biggest females grow to 18 metres. We think they are sexually mature at 30 or 40 years of age, but we still don’t know where they breed, presumably places out in the deep ocean,” says Mark.
Female whale sharks are ovoviviparous: they produce eggs, which then hatch inside the body before the pups mature and the female gives birth. No-one has ever recorded seeing a whale shark give birth. Much studied is the case of 'Big Mama', a female whale shark caught in 1995 by a Taiwanese fishing net. 300 embryos, at various stages of development, were inside. Only 14 were kept, frozen, for scientific analysis. As Mark explains, female whale sharks can retain sperm, a sort of reproductive insurance policy. “The fourteen embryos we were able to study were fertilised by a single male, so the conclusion was that all 300 may well have been too.”
The current global population is only a guesstimate, in the range of 100,000 to 300,000 animals. Whatever their actual numbers, researchers believe that there has likely been a 50% decrease in the last 30 years. While they are a target for some fisheries, whale sharks are most at risk from boat-strike incidents. “In the deep ocean, juveniles and adults of both sexes will dive to five hundred metres to filter for plankton. But there is a steep metabolic penalty they pay for being in water this cold and this deep. They have to warm up after a dive. So, you have this giant animal, swimming slowly, at or near the surface, where much of the world’s trade is transported in huge container ships travelling at twentyfive knots. Ship strike injuries on whale sharks are common, and often fatal,” adds Mark.
“The current global population is only a guesstimate, in the range of 100,000 to 300,000 animals. Whatever their actual numbers, there has likely been a 50% decrease in the last 30 years.”
LEFT: A whale shark swims in the clear waters of the Ningaloo Reef.
RIGHT: The eco luxury safari tent campsite of Sal Salis lies right next to the Ningaloo Reef.
“It is the spot markings that have me mesmerised. Swimming alongside, these are ghostly white, and the last thing visible as the shark vanishes into the gloom.”
The world's largest shark, the whale shark.
“There’s
not a dive destination I know of where you could expect to see all the prize species that I’ve seen, and in just a couple of days.”
Manta rays and a sea turtle off Quobba Station on the edge of the Ningaloo Reef.
To see them for myself, I join a whale shark boat tour, which run late March to August from the town of Exmouth. When the skipper gets word from a spotter-plane pilot that a shark has been sighted, he sidles up as close as he’s permitted and our first group of 10 snorkellers is scrambled into the water.
Over the next two hours, we swim alongside five different sharks, all six to seven metres long. I’d anticipated this would be a thrilling experience, but in fact it’s a revelation: the flat head and wide mouth are as expected, and the whale shark is commonly said to be “the size of a school bus”; but there the bus comparison ends. Starting behind the pectoral fins and running down to the tail are three sharp ridges, with one atop as well.
These ridges slice through the ocean, almost visibly peeling water away as the shark swishes effortlessly along. I’m finning like mad and no hope of keeping up. Perhaps having a head built for filter-feeding is offset by having a body akin to that of a fighter-jet, built for speed. Evolution appears here to have done an impeccable job.
But it is the spot markings that have me mesmerised. Swimming alongside, these are ghostly white, and the last thing visible as the shark vanishes into the gloom. Photographed from above, they appear more like a constellation of stars and planets, twinkling with the shark’s movements and changes in the light. It’s apropos therefore that a citizen science identification and tracking system, based on each animal’s unique markings, borrows from a method used to map the night sky. Divers, snorkellers, amateur photographers, drone enthusiasts, in over fifty countries, have submitted photographs of whale sharks that feed into a world-wide database. All this data necessitated a clever algorithm to make analysis of it speedy and efficient, so software expert Jason Holmberg and NASA astrophysicist Zaven Arzoumanian teamed up to develop one. The contributions of citizen scientists have thus become even more valuable in identifying and tracking individual sharks.
Back on board the snorkel boat, I’m just starting to strip off my wetsuit when the skipper says manta rays might also be about. And then, “We’ve got a manta ray just surfaced, about 60 metres to starboard.”
The calm voice of Steve, our dive master for the day, implies this is a common occurrence, but I’ve never seen a manta ray except on TV, so I’m hopping around the boat, giddy as a schoolgirl. “Where, where, where?” I yelp, scanning the water for any dark shape nearby. Then a pair of jet-black wingtips breaks the surface, and this majestic creature is
gliding towards us with mouth agape as it trawls for plankton. Quick as a flash we’re back in the ocean, four manta rays swooping and wheeling about, three metres below.
I’m equally fascinated by a separate dive encounter I have here with an olive sea-snake – two metres long, coloured yellowish khaki with a black head. From the moment it appears, the snake follows our group of four SCUBA divers everywhere, swimming behind a pair of fins one moment, gliding between a pair of legs the next. Whenever we stop to examine a coral formation or peek under a ledge, the snake pauses and fossicks for a moment on the sea floor, but the second we move off it looks up as if to say “hey, where’s everybody going?” then resumes its pursuit. This strikes me as a feature of Ningaloo world-renowned dive destination it may be, you still have to want to get here. The marine animals have remained curious, largely unthreatened by the presence of humans. Mark confirms my thoughts too about sharing the ocean with the tiger sharks, prolific at Ningaloo. “Thanks to large and dense populations of dugongs and turtles, and a healthy reef system, the tiger sharks here are kept fat and happy. They have little interest in humans.”
On the run home to Exmouth, I ask Neil, a fellow passenger who edits a dive magazine in the UK, about his first trip to Ningaloo. “There’s not a dive destination I know of where you could expect to see all the prize species that I’ve seen, and in just a couple of days – humpback whales, dolphins, dugongs, turtles, manta rays, sea-snakes, whale sharks, leopard sharks, grey nurse sharks, moray eels, tiger sharks, nudibranchs. Seeing even a couple of these would make for a brilliant dive trip almost anywhere else.”
Over 20,000 visitors come to Ningaloo each year, many of them to see the whale sharks. 300 to 500 whale sharks visit the area annually, mostly juvenile males. “An individual shark might encounter a handful of snorkellers in a season, so the impact on them is negligible. Some barely notice snorkellers; others seem to enjoy the attention. And tour operators here maintain the best-practice guidelines for whale shark tourism anywhere in the world,” Mark assures me. The strict guidelines require tours to maintain 3 metres distance from the sharks at all times, and 4 metres from their tails.
Whale sharks can live somewhere between 100 and 150 years. As Dr Mark Meekan has experienced over two decades, these animals are endlessly tolerant, majestic, and gentle, with humans. We will be a far better species ourselves if we can safeguard their survival into the future.
OUR COAST
Sometimes you need to leave a place, separate yourself from it for a little while. So that from a distance you can truly value what it is you have. After returning home from a four month trip abroad, all that time spent away from home made me deeply appreciate the wonders right on our doorstep. I was itching to get back to the coast of Western Australia. Our home on the Ningaloo Reef / Nyinggulu is in close proximity to some of the most unique marine wildlife and endless expanses of untouched beaches. Just pure, wild nature.
I’ve always felt deeply drawn to water and wild places. Breathing in the humid sea air, immersing myself in the ocean, I’m enthralled by it. If I’m sitting idly, it feels oddly wrong. I get anxious like I’m missing something. And there is always something exciting happening out there on the Ningaloo / Nyinggulu. There is a constant transition of inhabitants on the reef, seasonal visitors arrive like
clockwork. Each bringing with them a new kind of adventure. Being an ocean photographer in Western Australia, you never have a shortage of subjects. From elusive leafy sea dragons to playful sea lions and whale sharks, every section of coast is bustling with underwater life, and there are over 12,000 kilometres of it. Every time I’m on the reef, whether it is for work or play, I often catch myself asking “how is this real life, to have all this beauty so close?”.
Let me tell you about two of my most favourite encounters in the region. One of them was in March when it felt like peak summer; the air was hot, the sun baked the red earth, and I knew that the ocean nearby was humming with plenty of activity. We got up early to beat the heat, and packed the boat with our gear to look for one of the ocean's most gentle giants. Starting as early as February each year, whale sharks begin arriving on the coast in huge numbers to feed. One hand on the tiller I followed the
LEFT: A whale shark with its entourage of fish. RIGHT: Ningaloo Reef / Nyinggulu from above. Photographs by Brooke Pyke.
coastline south along the outer edge of the Ningaloo Reef / Nyinggulu. We scanned the water ahead for a sign of something. The currents had finally brought in some neon blue water off the continental shelf, and the water was glowing. We received a tip-off from one of the spotter pilots in the air above that there was a whale shark nearby for us to swim with. Camera in hand, I slid into the water. The first thing I saw was the white of its mouth and dazzling spots that reflected the bright sun above. The young whale shark, still 8 metres long, moved gently through the water sucking up plankton.
I started to swim alongside the giant animal, looking into a tiny eye protruding from his head.
Small pilot fish, remora and juvenile golden trevally followed along. The shark reminded me of its own swimming ecosystem. I’ve photographed hundreds of whale sharks, but their beauty never ceases to amaze me. For a small moment in time, I forgot everything else. l became part of the shark’s ecosystem.
Another favourite encounter happened in July. The earth had come alive with new growth after some rain and the warm, clear waters had now cooled. The wind and winter swells had transformed the reef into a playground for the arriving humpback whales
that migrate north. To see them, we travelled to the Exmouth Gulf on the eastern side of the cape. In winter we get blissful evenings where the water of the gulf becomes calm and serene, while humpback whales rest and play in its sheltered waters.
Everywhere I looked there were dark shapes breaking the surface to breathe.
The air was so silent that you were able to hear the humpbacks breaching many kilometres away. Suddenly, one individual surfaced right next to us, so that I could see the glow of white from its belly. I shuffled in my seat feeling like a sitting duck in our small boat next to this giant whale. As it moved further away, I almost breathed a sigh of relief, but then it hurled its entire body out of the water. A heartstopping moment that left me feeling full, happy and in awe.
The Ningaloo Reef / Nyinggulu is a popular hub for marine megafauna interactions and whale watching. This place leaves a mark on everyone who gets to experience its wonders. Some, like me, come for a short while but end up never leaving the region. This land, where the red earth of the desert meets the blue of the Ningaloo / Nyinggulu, is a true hidden gem of the Australian continent. BP
“This place leaves a mark on everyone who gets to experience its wonders.”
About Brooke
BrookePykegrewupinMelbourneand now lives and works in Exmouth near WesternAustralia’sNingalooReef.Sheis wellknownforheraward-winningmarine lifephotographyandhasbeenworkingin tourismanddivingsince2014.Previously adiveinstructor,sheisnowaself-taught professionalphotographerworkingprimarily inocean,travelandadventurephotography.
congregation Orca
Situated off the coast of Western Australia, the Bremer Canyon holds a sense of mystery and wonder for those who dare to venture into its depths. Known for its rich marine biodiversity and dramatic underwater landscape, the canyon attracts scientists, thrill-seekers and a large number of orcas.
Words by Nane Steinhoff
Photographs by Jake Wilton and Tourism Western Australia
“Numerous sightings have been made since, resulting in the region’s reputation as the southern hemisphere’s largest orca congregation.”
PREVIOUS: An orca inspects the photographer, Jake Wilton. THIS PAGE: Orcas off the coast of Bremer Bay.
Close to a five-hour drive from Perth / Boorloo and settled between Albany / Kinjarling and Esperance / Kepa Kurl lies Bremer Bay, a hidden gem on Western Australia's south coast. With only 400 permanent residents, the small outcrop boasts pristine beaches, bountiful fishing locations, and breathtaking coastal views. The town itself is set upon the main beach and acts as the perfect starting point for a variety of ecotourism and outdoor activities, including snorkelling, surfing, and diving.
In close proximity to Bremer Bay lies the Fitzgerald River National Park which is rich in wildlife and plant life, with more native species of flora than the whole of the UK. The National Park was internationally recognised by UNESCO as a unique biosphere, joining Uluru and Kosciuszko as one of only 14 similar areas in Australia. On various walking trails, visitors can marvel at abundant birdlife, reptiles, marsupials, Australian staples such as kangaroos and emus, various plants, including the hakea, one of the park’s most prominent species, as well as tremendous views of the coastal plain from the top of West Mount Barren. One of the main highlights here is the annual wildflower season as Western Australia is home to the largest collection of wildflowers on earth. Though the natural wonders on the coastline attract visitors throughout the year, most flock to the area to head offshore instead as a wide range of marine wildlife uses the Bremer Bay region, including longfinned pilot whales, false killer whales, common dolphins, Oceanic bottlenose dolphins, blue whales, sperm whales, mola mola, long nosed fur seals, Australian sea lions, various seabirds such as the wandering albatross, and, on rare occasions, baleen whales such as Bryde’s whales and minke whales. Between July and October, migrating Southern right whales can also be spotted off the coast, while leafy seadragons hide and breed amidst seagrass meadows closer to shore. The real stars of the region, however, are large pods of orcas that annually hunt off Bremer Canyon between January and April. Bremer Canyon, a relatively narrow submarine canyon, lies just 70km off the coast, at the edge of the continental shelf, and leads to the abyssal plain of the Southern Ocean. It lies amidst the Bremer Marine Park, a 4,472 km2 Marine Protected Area, with a depth range of about 15 to 5,000m. Thanks to its unique and deep underwater topography, the canyon’s complex currents and nutrient-rich waters provide a fertile
ground for research. Already known as a biodiversity hotspot for marine megafauna, a recent expedition, led by researchers from the University of Western Australia (UWA) with the help of the Schmidt Ocean Institute, discovered diverse ecosystems inhabiting the cold waters deep within the canyon.
The research team collected deep-sea corals, associated fauna, seawater, and geological samples from the abyssal depths to the continental shelf with the help of a deep-sea remotely operated vehicle, aptly named SuBastian. “We have already made a number of remarkable discoveries from the Bremer Canyon,” said Dr Julie Trotter, the chief scientist from UWA who led the expedition. “The vertical cliffs and ridges support a stunning array of deep-sea corals that often host a range of organisms and form numerous mini ecosystems,” she added. Such rare records of these deep-sea habitats are a new and very important contribution to the Marine Parks, which will help managers as well as the broader community to better understand and protect these previously unknown ecosystems.
Thanks to the special underwater topography of Bremer Canyon, cold, nutrient-rich water flows in from the Southern Ocean and upwells along the edges of the continent's shelf, attracting large groups of orcas between January and mid-April. The upwelling of nutrient-rich water creates a marine environment supporting an extraordinarily high biomass and attracting an abundant array of sea life, feeding on the plentiful food sources present at this time of year. In 2005, a Spanish research vessel first reported large numbers of orcas in the region. Numerous sightings have been made since, resulting in the region’s reputation as the southern hemisphere’s largest orca congregation, and Australia’s only location where visitors are guaranteed to spot these animals during Australian summer.
Jade Cantrall, marine biologist working at Naturaliste Charters, one of the whale watching companies operating out of Bremer Bay, explains: “The Bremer Bay sub-basin is a unique and biodiverse system that incorporates a chemical process and natural breakdown of methane hydrates that seep from the ocean floor, fuelling the complex system.” Cold upwelling currents bring these nutrients into the first 200 metres of surface water, the photic zone, where photosynthetic phytoplankton can utilise these nutrients to photosynthesise.
“She estimates that around 300 healthy individuals utilise the area.”
“Working up the food chain, zooplankton, fish, squid, and larger species such as the orcas all flock to the area as it is essentially a smorgasbord of food available throughout the varying topography of canyon systems below,” adds Cantrall.
As the first company to offer whale watching tours in Western Australia’s south west, Naturaliste Charters has been in the business for over 30 years. In 2009, current owners Paul and Alison Cross took over the business to continue the tradition of responsible whale watching in Bremer Bay. “Since then, various research projects, unique on-board learning experiences, and the establishment of new oceanic expeditions such as the Bremer Bay Orca Expeditions have been developed,” explains Cantrall and adds: “Paul and Alison are committed to enriching lives by building connections between guests and the extraordinary marine biodiversity of the south-west region. Their unique approach intertwines conservation, research, and tourism.” The company’s special ecotourism approach educates people about the orcas and their role in the environment. “Educating passengers on the human impacts that these orca face, whether they’re inshore or offshore populations globally is vital in helping people understand what role they can take to assist in creating less damage,” says Cantrall.
While orca populations from different regions have varying levels of success, potential threats to the orcas generally include human impacts such as reckless recreational and commercial vessel activities, discarded fishing gear, water pollution, noise pollution, overfishing and warming seas that can affect those orca populations that use ice sheets for their feeding techniques. About the Bremer Canyon population, Cantrall says: “It is hard to determine with our little time observing this population the specific impacts that may affect these orcas residing off Bremer Bay.” She estimates that around 300 healthy individuals utilise the area and at least one new calf is spotted every season. “This is a promising sign to the health of this population,” she adds.
To find out more about the Bremer Bay orcas, marine biologists on board the Naturaliste Charter boats take ID photographs of the orcas to note which individuals from each population the tour operators were interacting with. “We also create a marine log detailing observational based data upon the animals encountered which aids in future understanding of the bigger picture of the Bremer Bay system collectively,” says Cantrall.
At this stage, researchers are unsure whether this specific orca population is primarily using the Bremer Canyon system for the Australian summer and autumn months and then moves elsewhere or if all or some parts of that population are actually localised to the southwest
OPPOSITE (FROM TOP TO BOTTOM):
The Naturaliste Charters boat. I An orca and its calf. I Visitors on a Naturaliste Charter trip spot an orca. THIS PAGE: An orca surfaces to breathe.
“I think this will be a Marine Park that will rival Ningaloo and the Great Barrier Reef.”
Fishery Beach, near Bremer Bay boat harbour.
of Australia permanently, and use different regions of the coastline to their advantage and feed on specific food sources available during different times of the year. Cantrall argues that, as an example, the orcas could potentially come closer to the coastline when the Southern right whales move up from Antarctica after summer to feed in the shallows of southern Australia in late April and early May during their winter calving and breeding season.
“The orcas could be altering their diet to feed on the Southern right calves that are born as opposed to the variety of beaked whale species, fish and squid that they feed on within the subbasin off the continental shelf during Australian summer and autumn months,” she explains.
Every orca season, the biologists win invaluable insight into the movements of these orcas and hope that some of their secrets can soon be revealed. Until then, the tours will continue to observe the populations and educate the public about these magnificent animals. When asked about her most special orca encounter, Cantrall explains: “One day, we saw three juveniles who were super interactive. They were within arm’s reach, looking like they were almost kissing the GoPro we had in the water. They were so inquisitive." She adds: "They would then swim off and do a lap around the side of the vessel and come back to the back of the boat for more close-up shots and playing with each other whilst looking at the GoPro. They did this for about 45 minutes at least. When we thought it couldn’t get any better, the afternoon brought about an incredible predation event." She continues: "We watched a group of 30 to 40 orcas passively herd this poor beaked whale at the surface. After about 20 minutes of build-up, we watched them tear apart this whale and then share the meat between individuals. It was absolutely mind blowing. The fact that we had all this action in one day was crazy and to witness the change in behaviour from friendly and cute playfulness off the back off the boat to then seeing them feed in that manner was humbling to say the least. I was completely in awe."
To protect such special interactions for generations to come, an independent review urged in 2016 that Bremer Bay canyon should be protected from extractive mining activities by expanding the marine national park zone to cover 70.93 per cent of the Bremer commonwealth marine reserve, including the Bremer Bay canyon. An expansion would see the area covered increase by 3,000 square kilometres. In more recent news, in early 2024, the Western Australian government revealed its plans to close a quarter of waters between Bremer Bay and the South Australian border to all fishing activities as part of its new South Coast Marine Park plan which would span 1,000 kilometres of coastline. Reece Whitby, minister for environment, told ABC News: “I'm very optimistic about this, I think this will be a Marine Park that will rival Ningaloo and the Great Barrier Reef." The draft marine park is currently open for public comment and final decisions can be expected later in 2024.
POWER OF THE
Kimberley tides
For those seeking pure solitude, Western Australia’s Kimberley region has a lot to offer, from ancient rock art, to pristine diving conditions, incredible wildlife encounters, and impressive natural phenomena.
Words by Cameron Wilson
Photographs by Tourism Western Australia
PREVIOUS: Montgomery Reef, Kimberley. Photograph by Garry Norris Photography.
THIS PAGE: Mitchell Falls.
Photograph by Sean Scott.
Lieutenant Phillip Parker King, of the British Royal Navy, was the first person to chart the Kimberley coast region of northwest Western Australia, over multiple voyages between 1818 and 1820 at the helm of His Majesty’s Cutter Mermaid Today, dozens of expedition cruise ships follow in Mermaid’s stern wave, as they ply their routes between the pearling town of Broome / Rubibi and either Wyndham or Darwin. As King was diligently making notes, sketching maps, collecting plant specimens, and avoiding crocodiles, what did he make of the staggering beauty of the Kimberley? Of the blinding turquoise that is the Indian Ocean, splashed against a palette of red earth, banded sandstone cliffs and white beaches? Of a reef, hundreds of kilometres across, that rises daily from the sea like a mirage only to disappear the same day? Of the oldest rock art depictions of humans found anywhere? Of a tidal surge so dramatic it would become known as ‘the horizontal falls’?
All of these are big questions, but if I could huddle over a cold beer to pick the brain of Lieutenant King, I’d start with what, if anything, he knows about the vanished tribe, ‘the giants of the north’. Aged then in his mid-twenties, King had a lot on his plate: keep the crew alive, manage relations with Aboriginal communities he encountered, write daily detailed logbook notes. It’s fair to assume that if he did encounter the Yawijibaya Aboriginal people – a ‘saltwater’ community who lived on High Cliffy Island and hunted in the seas around the Kimberley’s Montgomery Reef – he had no way of knowing they represented a separate language group from mainland Aboriginal people living just a few kilometres away.
The existence of the Yawijibaya people might sound improbable, in which case, you can watch a video, still on YouTube, which features black-and-white documentary footage shot by a French film crew in 1929, showing the Yawijibaya rafting, fishing, and hunting, at Montgomery Reef. By the mid-1930s, the estimated 300 Yawijibaya, whose forebears flourished here for almost 7,000 years, had vanished. Their fate remains unknown, but I’m equally fascinated by the description, ‘giants of the north’, which came about as passers-by reported the
Yawijibaya to be physically impressive, “some standing seven feet tall”. I imagine I’d be a fair specimen myself if my diet was, like theirs, onehundred-percent turtle, dugong, stingray, shark, and fish. Theories abound about their disappearance, but here I’m inclined to apply Occam’s well-honed Razor: the simplest theory is probably the correct one. We’ll know more as cultural anthropologists, geneticists, and historians continue to weigh in, but I think it likely the Yawijibaya just decamped to the mainland, for whatever reason, then mingled in with other Worrorra language groups. Time will tell, but in 2024, this remains one of the world’s human mysteries.
The Kimberley region offers additional astonishing examples of the presence and cultural practices of Aboriginal tribes, some going back 40,000 years, and we have the world’s oldest and most extensive rock art galleries to tell us about it. It’s estimated there are at least 100,000 rock art sites in the Kimberley, many of the finest only accessed via expedition ship or helicopter. A writer could produce multiple books (and several have), on the two distinct rock art traditions associated with the region: Gwion Gwion and Wandjina
The figures known to Aboriginal people as Gwion Gwion are near-impossible to describe. As depicted in photographs for this story, these tall, lean, wraith-like bodies are as much apparition as human. The elaborate headdresses some wear, or the tote-bags, spears and boomerangs they carry, seem
The Kimberley region offers astonishing examples of the presence and cultural practices of Aboriginal tribes, some going back 40,000 years. “”
to indicate some kind of ceremony. Debate goes on about their ancestry and age, though scientific dating suggests some examples are well over 17,000 years old. Some Gwion Gwion sites are well known and well photographed, but the location of many remains secret, even when traditional owners (i.e. the Aboriginal elders associated with a particular language, art, country), and academic experts, have visited. By contrast, the Wandjina have generally been painted in the last 5,000 years, but they are every bit as other-worldly.
The Wandjina spirit-beings bring clouds and rain and are always depicted as full-face figures with no mouths, because anything they’d say would not be for our ears. Many Wandjina sites are still visited and the paintings refreshed by traditional owners. I can personally report viewing Kimberley coastal sites with paintings of both styles; a brilliant coffee-table book with stunning photographs, reproduced with the permission as well as the input of traditional owners, is titled We are coming to see you.
We can forgive Lieutenant King meanwhile for not waxing lyrical about the extraordinary ‘Horizontal Falls’ of Talbot Bay, 255km north of Broome, as he was focused on the entire Kimberley coast, not just the highlights. Sir David Attenborough has no doubt rued the day he announced them as “one of the world’s great natural wonders”, prompting tourism operators to quote him breathlessly ever since, but from my perch in a boat tender alongside six other punters, this great tidal rush between two narrow gorges is exactly as advertised – roaring, powerful, loud. While tours have previously ridden these waters, there has been consultation with stakeholders, including traditional owners in the last year which led the West Australian government to announce in March 2024, that from 2026 tour boats will no longer be able to travel through the falls. Perhaps the best way to appreciate this site is from the air, where often you truly appreciate the grandeur and scale of the Kimberley's otherworldly landscapes.
Less than 100 kilometres northeast of Talbot Bay lies Montgomery Reef, named in 1821 by then Captain King after his ship’s surgeon Andrew Montgomery. At low tide, around 300 square kilometres of it is exposed, with dozens of ‘waterfalls’
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Horizontal Falls in Talbot Bay. I Exploring Wandjina Aboriginal rock art near Raft Point. Photograph by Lauren Bath. I Mount Trafalgar. I Visitors exploring the Kimberley. I Wandjina's Window.
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At low tide, around 300 square kilometres of it is exposed, with dozens of ‘waterfalls’ funneling the ocean into deeper channels as it rushes off the reef.
Montgomery Reef from the air.
funneling the ocean into deeper channels as it rushes off the reef. For full jaw-dropping effect, this is best seen from above, by helicopter, seaplane, or drone camera.
Eastern Reef Egrets patrol the ‘sinkholes’ that pockmark the reef when the ten-metre tide falls and marine animals are suddenly exposed. Green turtles, everywhere at Montgomery Reef, get caught too, and it's not unusual to see turtles as they make their way to the channels that run into deeper water. As the Yawijibaya could no doubt tell you, a green turtle doesn’t have a green shell, but is layered in greenish fat, the result of its seagrass diet –a tasty, stranded morsel for any predatory seabird keeping a beady eye on the reef.
Lalang-garram/Camden Sound Marine Park includes Montgomery Reef and is the first to be jointly managed by traditional owners and the state government of Western Australia. Its name features a Worrorra word which translates as “the saltwater as a spiritual place as well as a place of natural abundance”.
The marine park also encompasses the most important humpback whale nursery in the Southern Hemisphere. Whale species recorded here include humpback, minke, and the false killer whale. From June to November, up to 40,000 humpback whales migrate north from Antarctica to their breeding grounds in Camden Sound. The warm, shallow waters are ideal for newborn humpback calves, and the shoreline and seafloor provide protection from predators. The marine park is also home to six species of threatened marine turtles, rare Australian snubfin dolphins and Indo-Pacific humpback dolphins, dugongs, saltwater crocodiles, and several species of sawfish.
With the recent unprecedented marine heatwaves occurring across the globe, coral reefs of the Kimberley coast, and the soft-coral species that colonize Montgomery Reef in particular, have gained wider scientific attention for their resistance to high ocean and air temperatures. Some species have even been transplanted from Montgomery to other coral reef systems, to see if they grow as successfully. A November 2020 paper titled Coral Reefs in the Kimberley Adapt to Survive provides an excellent summary: “Corals here have adapted to thrive in extreme environmental conditions, including high temperatures, wind, and sun exposure, making them some of the most robust and resilient coral communities known to science. Some of the Kimberley’s intertidal reefs can remain exposed at low tide for over three hours.
During this prolonged period, they can be subject to potentially damaging levels of UV light and extremely high temperatures, yet the hardy Kimberley corals survive. Many of the platform reefs sit above sea level, meaning that on a falling tide they appear to rise from the ocean. Montgomery Reef, 20 kilometres off the Kimberley coast, is one of the most spectacular places to see this phenomenon. While Kimberley corals remain susceptible to bleaching from elevated temperatures, their bleaching threshold of thirty-two degrees Celsius is significantly higher than that of typical coral reefs, which show signs of stress in prolonged periods of temperatures over twenty-nine degrees Celsius.” Hope then, for the longer-term outlook of some coral species.
On 30 September 1820, King’s survey vessel weighed anchor in Careening Bay (so named by King himself, and part of today’s Prince Regent National Park), where he had the ship’s carpenter carve ‘HMC MERMAID 1820’ into a huge boab. This was no random act of tree graffiti: the Colonial Office had instructed King to ‘leave some evidence which cannot be mistaken of your having landed’. The carpenter did his job admirably and the boab still stands, estimated now to be over 800 years old. Captain King was formally promoted to ‘Admiral of the Blue’, then the Royal Navy’s fourth highest rank, in 1855, a year before his death. Today, Phillip Parker King isn’t especially widely celebrated, though he tackled the Kimberley coast with diligence and daring, representing humanity at its resilient best. Mention his name to any Kimberley boat skipper though, and you’ll get a glimmer of recognition for a job mightily well done.
Behind the lens
Behind the Lens places a spotlight on the world’s foremost ocean conservation photographers. Each edition focusses on the work of an individual who continues to shape global public opinion through powerful imagery and compelling storytelling.
MICHAEL HALUWANA
Michael Haluwana is an award-winning videographer, photographer and cinematographer based in Perth, Western Australia.
Primarily focusing on capturing captivating aerial videos and photographs, he aims to offer unique perspectives of Western Australia’s wildlife, landscape and seascapes.
With over 18 years of experience in photography and cinematography, Michael Haluwana was born in Sri Lanka before moving to Perth, Western Australia. Here, he has honed his skills as an aerial photographer and cinematographer and has won numerous photography awards. Michael has captured content for the BBC documentaries Planet Earth II and Planet Earth III which were both narrated by Sir David Attenborough, and has worked on other formats for National Geographic, Netflix and Discovery.
Q&A
SPOTLIGHT: WHEN AND WHY DID YOU FIRST PICK UP A CAMERA? WHAT DID YOU SHOOT FIRST?
MICHAEL HALUWANA (MH): “When I first picked up a camera, I was about 9 years old. My father would let me use the final four shots of his 24-shot film camera. My initial amateur photography venture took place on my grandmother's tea plantation in Sri Lanka, where I captured images of her elephants and the butterflies fluttering around. Fast forward to my early professional years, when I was around 18 to 20 years old, my first shoot involved capturing the wildlife in Sri Lanka.”
SPOTLIGHT: HOW DID YOU CONNECT THE DOTS BETWEEN YOUR PASSION FOR PHOTOGRAPHY AND YOUR PASSION FOR THE OCEAN?
MH: “I find immense fascination in observing cloud formations, water formations, and wave sets. Photography, for me, is a deeply personal journey where I constantly strive to express my creativity in my own unique way. My approach to photography is deeply intertwined with my emotions and the creative energy I feel both during shoots and in the planning stages. Rather than looking to competitors or following trends, I focus on capturing subjects in a manner that resonates with me personally. When I encounter a subject, I assess how to encapsulate its essence within a single frame, whether through intricate close-up shots or expansive wide-angle compositions. I don't adhere to rigid plans; instead, I allow the subject and environment to guide my creative process. In connecting my passion for photography with the ocean, I see a parallel in the themes of movement and flow, both of which inspire me to capture the dynamic beauty of the ocean in my photographs.”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT IS THE MAIN THING THAT, IN YOUR OPINION, ELEVATED YOUR PHOTOGRAPHY ONTO A PROFESSIONAL LEVEL?
MH: “Achieving recognition as one of the top 10 wildlife photographers of the year by National Geographic was a significant milestone which, in my view, elevated my photography to a professional level.”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT’S THE MAIN AIM OR THE MAIN MESSAGE OF YOUR PHOTOGRAPHY? WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO ACHIEVE?
MH: “The main aim and message of my photography revolve around inspiration and education. By sharing my work, I hope to motivate more individuals to explore and embrace the beauty of the world through travel. I aspire for us to unite in efforts to safeguard our planet and its invaluable resources. Every small effort counts towards this goal. By showcasing the world in its present state, reflecting on its past, acknowledging its changes, and envisioning its potential for the benefit of all living beings and ecosystems, I aim to inspire positive change.”
SPOTLIGHT: HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOUR PHOTOGRAPHY STYLE? WHAT MAKES IT STAND OUT AND HOW HARD WAS IT TO DEVELOP YOUR OWN STYLE?
MH: “I would describe my photography style as centred around capturing the environment and its subjects authentically. What sets my style apart is my focus on encapsulating detail, depth, storytelling, and vastness within a single frame. Over time, my style has evolved through a combination of innate creativity and dedicated skill refinement. I continually challenge myself and embrace challenges until I am personally satisfied with my work. Ultimately, I produce photography that resonates with my own aesthetic preferences, leaving the judgment of its uniqueness to others.”
SPOTLIGHT: BEFORE A SHOOT, DO YOU HAVE THE PHOTO IN MIND OR DO YOU IMPROVISE? HOW DO YOU PLAN THE SHOTS?
MH: “Before a shoot, I predominantly rely on improvisation, with a large percentage of my work being inspired in the moment by creativity. However, my projects are meticulously planned with a clear vision in mind. Planning a shoot involves extensive research, preparation, and ensuring the necessary equipment is in place. Deciding when and where to shoot is influenced by various factors, including the season, weather conditions, and the desired environment, subjects, and locations. Weather plays a crucial role, often dictating the feasibility and outcome of a shoot. For instance, the availability of diffused light on cloudy days can be advantageous compared to the harsh, direct sunlight on clear days, especially during midday when subjects may risk over-exposure. Ultimately, if the shoot is directed by a client, planning becomes tailored to meet their specific requirements.”
SPOTLIGHT: HOW DID YOU GET INTO THE FIELD OF AERIAL PHOTOGRAPHY? DOES ONE EVENT SPRING TO MIND?
MH: “My fascination with aircrafts and space has been a lifelong passion. Exploring the world from various aerial perspectives during flights to different destinations sparked my interest in aerial photography. During my younger years, my involvement with remote-controlled aircrafts and training as a pilot further fuelled my enthusiasm for aerial endeavours. It felt like a natural progression to delve into aerial photography, given my deep-seated passion for all things related to flight and aerial perspectives.”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT DO YOU LOVE ABOUT AERIAL PHOTOGRAPHY? HOW DID THE FASCINATION WITH THAT FIELD DEVELOP?
MH: “My fascination lies in the captivating patterns, colours, and textures that are revealed from aerial perspectives, which are often unseen from ground level. The advent of drones revolutionised the aerial photography landscape, offering boundless opportunities to explore the aerial realm. Given my profound interest in all things aerial, specialising in aerial photography was a natural progression for me. This fascination with the field developed as I delved deeper into the possibilities presented by aerial imagery and witnessed the breath-taking views and perspectives that can only be captured from above.”
SPOTLIGHT: HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOUR PHOTOGRAPHY STYLE? WHAT ELEMENTS DO YOU TRY TO INCORPORATE IN YOUR IMAGES?
MH: “Currently, my photography style is characterised by its diversity, encompassing aerial, oceanic, celestial, and terrestrial landscapes. I strive to
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integrate a wide range of patterns, textures, lighting effects, and dynamic movements into my work, resulting in imagery that is rich in visual depth and variety.”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT DO YOU NEED TO LOOK OUT FOR IN AERIAL PHOTOGRAPHY? WHAT ARE THE MAIN CHALLENGES?
MH: “Ensuring safety and privacy, as well as being mindful of objects and people in the vicinity of both the photographer and the drone during flight, are paramount considerations in aerial photography. Challenges often arise from factors such as varying weather conditions, wind speeds, and adherence to location regulations.”
SPOTLIGHT: HOW DO YOU FEEL WHEN WORKING IN THE AIR?
MH: “Working in the air, especially in an open-door aircraft, evokes a unique sense of exhilaration, freedom, and joy. Despite the challenges of height and exposure, once immersed in the moment, I find myself fully present and absorbed in capturing what ignites my creativity and passion.”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT EQUIPMENT DO YOU USE?
MH: “I utilise Canon mirrorless cameras known for their exceptional resolution capabilities, paired with mid-wide-angle lenses. These lenses are particularly suited for aerial photography, allowing for capturing expansive vistas and intricate details from above.”
SPOTLIGHT: OM: WHAT MAKES WESTERN AUSTRALIA SO SPECIAL? WHY DID YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH THE PLACE?
MH: “Western Australia holds a unique allure due to its vast expanse and abundance of untouched areas, making it a truly special and raw destination for filming. The region boasts a rich biodiversity, encompassing vast oceans, diverse marine life, pristine landscapes, and a vibrant array of colours and textures. The sheer scale of Western Australia makes wildlife photography particularly captivating, although it can also pose challenges in locating certain species due to their adept camouflage skills. From an aerial perspective, the patterns, colours, and textures observed from above are unparalleled, offering a visual feast unlike any other. This distinctiveness is what sets aerial photography apart in Western Australia, providing a breath-taking glimpse of the landscape's intricacies and natural beauty.”
SPOTLIGHT: IN WHAT WAY DO YOU EXPLORE WESTERN AUSTRALIA DIFFERENTLY THAN OTHER PHOTOGRAPHERS?
MH: “My exploration of Western Australia differs from other photographers in that I immerse myself fully in nature. From dawn until dusk, on land and immersed in water, I relish the opportunity to film amidst the vast landscapes of WA, far removed from the hustle and bustle of cities and the glare of light pollution. This approach grants me the freedom to delve deep into the region's diverse environments, capturing the interplay of natural light, mesmerising night skies, and the enchanting beauty of the Milky Way.”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE IMAGE YOU SHOT IN WESTERN AUSTRALIA?
MH: “The thorny devil holds a special place as one of my favourite animals globally. Capturing an image of this remarkable creature in its natural habitat is particularly rewarding, albeit challenging, given its exceptional camouflage skills in the wild.”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT ARE CONSERVATION CONCERNS IN WESTERN AUSTRALIA? HOW ARE YOU TRYING TO CONVEY THESE THROUGH YOUR PHOTOGRAPHY?
MH: “One of the paramount conservation concerns in Western Australia revolves around preserving its pristine natural beauty amidst ongoing environmental challenges. Through my photography, I endeavour to highlight the unparalleled beauty of Western Australia's landscapes, ecosystems, and wildlife, aiming to inspire viewers to cherish and protect these invaluable resources. By showcasing the breathtaking diversity and delicate balance of nature through my lens, I hope to foster a deeper appreciation for the region's natural wonders and encourage sustainable practices that safeguard its ecological integrity for future generations.”
SPOTLIGHT: HOW HAS THE USE OF AERIAL VIDEOGRAPHY AND PHOTOGRAPHY IN DOCUMENTARIES CHANGED WITHIN THE PAST 15 YEARS?
MH: “The introduction of new technologies in the market and industry has opened up opportunities for everyone to depict and capture the world in innovative ways. These advancements have significantly expanded the toolkit available to professionals, enabling them to create stunning imagery across various settings. In the past, helicopters were primarily utilised for aerial photography, but the emergence of drones has revolutionised the accessibility and cost-effectiveness of capturing aerial footage. This shift has led to a notable increase in the use of aerial videography and photography in documentaries over the past 15 years, as these new tools offer greater flexibility, affordability, and versatility, ultimately broadening the opportunities for filmmakers to capture captivating visuals from unique perspectives.”
SPOTLIGHT: HOW HAS SOCIAL MEDIA CHANGES THE FACE OF DRONE AND AERIAL PHOTOGRAPHY? WHAT ARE THE POSITIVES AND NEGATIVES?
MH: “The emergence of social media has revolutionised the drone and aerial photography industry, making content and experience more accessible to a wider audience than ever before. On the positive side, social media platforms encourage people to explore and experience the world from new perspectives, fostering a greater appreciation for diverse landscapes and cultures. However, there are also negatives to consider. Unfortunately, lax adherence to aerial and drone rules and regulations can lead to irresponsible behaviour especially on social media platforms, creating accessibility challenges for professionals who abide by safety protocols and legal requirements. Looking ahead, I envision the industry experiencing further growth and development, driven by advancements in technology. This will likely lead to the creation of more immersive content and innovative apparatus, shaping the future of drone and aerial photography in exciting ways.”
SPOTLIGHT: YOU HAD A COUPLE OF IMAGES IN THE 2023 OCEAN PHOTOGRAPHER OF THE YEAR, SUCH AS THE POLAR BEAR SHOT IN THE FINE ART CATEGORY. TELL US A BIT MORE ABOUT THE IMAGE.
MH: “The Arctic is one of my happy places. Its environment can be like another
world. I had high hopes of encountering, photographing and filming polar bears - it is not however guaranteed you will see them, especially a polar bear on a glazier. Lucky for me and believe it or not, my dream came true. This photograph was my first polar bear encounter. I couldn’t believe it - timing, setting, light, positioning - it was all picture perfect with the added bonus of a waterfall! The toughest job was me - standing in a small zodiac with waves making it sway and changing weather conditions, it took a prayer, a breath, and a second. I am really happy with the result.”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE PHOTOGRAPHY PROJECT OR PHOTOGRAPH YOU EVER TOOK?
MH: “While I don't have a single favourite photograph, capturing images of a polar bear in the Arctic holds a special place for me. The composition of the polar bear against the ice, coupled with the perfect lighting, vivid colours, and stunning environment, created a truly magical moment. As for favourite projects, I have to mention my work on the Planet Earth series and my travels to the Arctic and Antarctic regions. Experiencing both polar regions months apart allowed me to witness the stark differences in environments, making these projects incredibly meaningful and memorable.”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT WAS YOUR MOST MEMORABLE OCEAN EXPERIENCE TO DATE?
MH: “One of the most unforgettable ocean experiences while filming was when a blue whale swam alongside our small vessel. It surfaced right next to us, exhaling gracefully, and lingered around for over 30 minutes, gracefully swimming in circles around us.”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT ARE YOUR TIPS AND TRICKS FOR AERIAL PHOTOGRAPHY? WHAT IS YOUR NUMBER ONE ADVICE?
MH: “In regards to tips and tricks: Utilise minimal equipment and consider preprogrammed camera settings for efficiency. Before shooting, thoroughly familiarise yourself with your camera and lens to fully grasp their capabilities. As for advice: Don't hesitate to experiment with manual mode. Challenge yourself by capturing an image with the camera set to auto settings, then try to replicate the same shot using manual settings to enhance your skills and understanding of photography.”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT ANIMAL WOULD YOU LOVE TO TAKE A PHOTO OF BUT HAVEN’T YET?
MH: “That’s an easy one… the elusive snow leopard!”
SPOTLIGHT: WHAT’S NEXT ON YOUR AGENDA? ANY BIG PLANS FOR 2024 AND BEYOND?
MH: “My next endeavour is to embark on travel photography across the African continent, completing my exploration of all seven continents on Earth. Stay tuned for upcoming plans and adventures in 2024 and beyond.”
Bungle Bungle Range
The Bungle Bungle range is renowned for its striking banded domes. “It’s my favourite place in Western Australia,” says Haluwana.
A storm rolls in over the reef.
"I love the dramatic, moody backdrop storms create," explains Haluwana.
Broome
Some of the world's largest tidal movements, seen from the sky. "I was flying in an open-door aircraft at about 10,000 feet to get this shot," explains the photographer.
The Kimberley
A saltwater crocodile. "I was watching this salty, waiting for the perfect moment as it gracefully swam through sea grass into clear ocean water, creating the perfect composition for this shot."
The Kimberley
The landscape of the Pindan in the Kimberley is coined by contrasting fiery reds and deep ocean blues.
The Kimberley
The Milky Way with a boab tree. "It took a few days to get there as location, weather conditions, timing and patience were key."
Dunsborough
The salmon run in southwest WA. The salmon migrate with the warm currents that are vital to lay their eggs.
Nambung National Park
Limestone structures from above create a strange, otherworldly environment in the Pinnacles Desert. "Using shadows is one of my favourite ways to get creative with photography," adds Haluwana.
Cape Naturaliste
A pod of dolphins catches a wave. “This image depicts the power of the ocean, its colour, vibrancy, life and its diverse and dynamic energy,” says Haluwana.
Bremer Bay
“Travelling through WA with its diverse terrain and pristine coastlines can be a photographer’s paradise. I love to capture waves and wave formations against such stunning costal lines."
Western Australia
Three rays swim in an harmonious line.
The Pinnacles Desert
The Pinnacles Desert in Nambung National Park is the perfect place to photograph stars and the night sky.
The Kimberley
A pink salt lake from the air. "I get so intrigued by the earth’s colours, patterns and textures," says Haluwana.
MICHAEL HALUWANA
Ningaloo
meets blue Where red
Located between Perth and Exmouth, Shark Bay is the perfect starting point to a truly Western Australian adventure close to nature – with astonishing conservation projects on the side.
Words by Nane Steinhoff
Photographs by Tourism Western Australia & Tourism Australia
We say ‘looks good – feels better’,” explains Darren ‘Capes’ Capewell, my guide for this leg of my Western Australia trip. He urges me to really listen inwards as I take in the natural beauty of my surroundings. I stand on a small hill in the middle of Shark Bay / Gathaagudu-Gutharraguda, overlooking the steep, rust-red cliffs that are so often associated with Western Australia and try to follow his advice. I dip my toes into the warm, soft sand, listen to the waves, and admire this special place with all of my senses. The steep red cliffs form the perfect contrast to the turquoise ocean that glistens in the sun, while a spotted eagle ray graciously flaps its wings in the shallows in search of its next meal. It’s easy to see the region’s beauty as soon as you land, but the more time I spend in Shark Bay, the more I begin to truly feel what Capes, the founder and owner of Wula Gura Nyinda, an ecotourism company offering sustainable tours that explore the ancient cultural ties of the region’s first people, the Nhanda and Malgana Aboriginal people, is talking about. “We have the energy from the desert and the ocean, and we want our guests to feel the energy of Gutharraguda, or the place of two waters, our Aboriginal name for the Shark Bay area,” he explains.
Shark Bay World Heritage Area, located around 800km north of Perth, sports a coastline that stretches for 1,500km, and covers an area of 2.2 million hectares of outstanding natural beauty on the edge of the Australian continent. With its diverse landscapes, and rare flora and fauna, the region became Western Australia’s first World Heritage-listed area in 1991. It is one of three World Heritage Areas within Western Australia, and one of 20 Australia-wide. The area is known for its exceptional natural beauty, including a beach that is made up of trillions of tiny shells from the Fragum cockle. Here, the water’s hypersalinity led to the dominance of the species so that shell deposits measure up to 10 metres deep along this 60-kilometre-long beach. After I get off the small passenger plane and show my passport at the open-air airport desk that only has one employee working there at the time, my Western Australia adventure sets the right tone straight away. As I drive the rental car off the airport premises, two large emus
PREVIOUS: Dirk Hartog Island, near Denham.
“The region became Western Australia’s first World Heritagelisted area in 1991.”
RIGHT: Wula Gura Nyinda Eco Adventures in the Shark Bay World Heritage Area.
“I set up Wula Gura Nyinda as a way to protect our cultural assets and to educate our clients about our local Aboriginal culture and history.”
run across the road, curiously tilting their long necks to get a better glimpse of me. The straight, long road to my hotel, the Heritage Resort Shark Bay, crosses untouched outback and I can't wait to explore the region and its many natural wonders, including migrating whales, a resident population of 10,000 dugongs, and the world’s largest plant for which Shark Bay was recently in international news.
After genetically testing an underwater seagrass meadow, a group of scientists from the University of Western Australia determined that the patch of seagrass is in fact one single plant, covering around 180 square kilometres. Jane Edgeloe, lead author of the related study, published in the journal Proceedings of the Royal Society B, explains: “The answer blew us away – there was just one! That’s it, just one plant has expanded over 180km in Shark Bay, making it the largest known plant on Earth.” As the species Posidonia australis, or ribbon weed, only grows around 35cm annually, the researchers estimate that the plant spread from one tiny seed over 4,500 years ago. “Shark Bay is a pretty unique environment which is largely undisturbed and has remained that way for some time, leading to its listing as a World Heritage Site. It is largely protected from the ocean which provides a fairly calm environment for the plant to keep growing. This could help explain why the clone is so big,” says Dr Elizabeth Sinclair, co-author of the study.
Intrigued by this exciting discovery, Capes and I travel to Francois Peron National Park. When we enter the park, I first notice the vastness of the surrounding landscape. Acacia-cloaked, rust-red sand covers the land as far as the eye can see. As the roads here are unsealed, we have to drive a four-wheel drive and upon entering the park, have to deflate the vehicle’s tyres to prepare them for driving on the soft sand. Threatened species such as the bilby, woma python, thick-billed grass-wren and malleefowl can be found here, as well as the thorny devil, bearded dragon and many more species. In the sea, Capes explains, bottlenose dolphins, green and loggerhead turtles, manta rays, dugongs and sharks are frequent visitors and can be best seen from Cape Peron and Skipjack Point. Our journey continues until we reach Cape Peron where red cliffs meet white sand beaches and turquoise waters – the perfect place to learn more from Capes and his approach to tourism: “I set up Wula Gura Nyinda as a way to protect our cultural assets and to educate our clients about our local Aboriginal culture and history. Like all of our Aboriginal tour operators, our job is not tourism but to look after
Snorkellers in Dirk Hartog Island National Park.
“Our job is not tourism but to look after country.”
TOP: A thorny devil in Francois Peron National Park.
BOTTOM: A humpback whale in the Shark Bay World Heritage Area.
country,” he explains. “We believe that everyone has connection to nature. We encourage our guests to not fold their arms but to keep themselves open to receive the ‘spirit of nature’. We use our local cultural knowledge to teach our guests to use their senses to look, listen, smell, touch and taste and learn how nature talks to us.”
When standing at Cape Peron, you quickly feel the essence of what he means. Nature here imbues all your senses – but this hasn’t always been the case. Since French explorers Nicholas Naudin and François Péron visited Shark Bay in 1801, habitat was destroyed as goats, sheep, cattle, rabbits, foxes and feral cats were introduced. Before 1801, 23 mammal species lived in the region. In 1990, due to habitat destruction and competition for food, less than half of them remained. To combat this, the Project Eden conservation project was launched to reverse the ecological destruction. Over 15,000 sheep and cattle and around 12,500 goats were removed, while a constructed fence in combination with a poison baiting programme managed to reduce fox and feral cat numbers on the Peron Peninsula. Captive breeding pens were also established to reintroduce native animals to the peninsula. Albeit only partly successful – only the bilby and malleefowl established viable populations – Project Eden led to the widespread recovery of vegetation and habitat. “My biggest concern now is the impact on the environment from humans, such as four-wheel drives driving across fragile dunes or cultural sites and across nesting areas for our migrating seabirds. Boats and other water vessels can also have an impact on our seagrass meadows and marine life. We continuously try to educate people and work with other key stakeholders in the region to protect country,” adds Capes.
Another site of an impressive restoration project to protect country can be found on Dirk Hartog Island, or Wirruwana as it is known to the Malgana traditional owners, just off the coast of Shark Bay. From Denham, the ferry takes me to the island in just over an hour and I am greeted by rugged terrain and a few friendly faces of the family that has lived and worked here for over 50 years. Today, they run the Island Lodge, guided tours, and provide 4WD access to the island via the ‘Hartog Explorer’ barge. A homestead camping site, as well as National Park campsites are further dotted around the island for those seeking more adventurous off-the-grid camping experiences. Dirk Hartog Island’s colourful European history began in 1616 when the Dutch skipper Dirk Hartog first set foot on Western
Australia’s largest island on 25 October. The event was the first recorded landing of a European in Western Australia or wider Australia. When he arrived here in 1616, the island was in pristine condition, left untouched for centuries. Since European settlers arrived and introduced sheep and goats, the vegetation significantly changed, thus reducing shelter and habitat of native species. Just like on the mainland, feral cats further added to the pressures on native species. As we drive around the island, I learn that numerous small mammals and marsupials, as well as one bird, did not survive the changes to their habitat. To counteract this negative trend, the ‘Return to 1616’ project has been brought to life after the Western Australian government bought the privately held pastoral lease in 2009 to convert most of the island to a National Park. The ambitious project officially began in 2012. Dr Sims, senior officer on the Dirk Hartog Island Ecological Restoration Project, told ABC News: "We are trying to return the island back, as near as possible, to what we think it was like before Europeans first set eyes on it.” Not only has the island since been cleared of feral cats, goats and sheep, but invasive weeds have also been removed, allowing native vegetation to slowly return so that the island’s native animals could be re-introduced.
In 2018, the first two species were translocated – the rufous and the banded hare-wallabies. As of early 2023, the dibbler, Shark Bay bandicoot, Shark Bay mouse, western grasswren and the greater stick-nest rat have also been re-introduced. In 2023, 100 rare brush-tailed mulgaras, a relative of the Tasmanian devil, were also taken to the island to help balance the population of other small mammals on the island, resulting in eight native species having been translocated to date.
As we drive around the island, I see the restoration efforts for myself. Vegetation is slowly coming back, and life can be seen everywhere. When we stop at a peaceful sand beach, juvenile blacktip sharks roam the shallows and large coral boulders can be seen off the shore in the crystal-clear waters. Suddenly, my guide points out something in the distance: A group of humpback whales on their annual migrations. My departure from Dirk Hartog Island also means the end of my Western Australia adventure. As I look out the window of the small plane that brings me back to Perth / Boorloo, I gaze across the red, rugged terrain, divided by countless watery veins. While it’s a stunning sight from up here, Capes’ words still ring in my head: To truly feel country, you need to move away from merely looking at nature. In this special region, you can’t help but do exactly that.
reefs Pristine
260 kilometres offshore from Broome, the Rowley Shoals, a group of atoll-like coral reefs, are home to 230 different types of coral and 700 species of fish. Still relatively unknown as a diving destination, the local authorities are working hard to conserve this pristine reef for generations to come.
Words by Cameron Wilson
Photographs by Tourism Western Australia
Dr James Gilmour, a coral ecology expert with the Australian Institute of Marine Science (AIMS), recalls being awe-struck the first time he saw these reefs: “It was the early 2000s. I wasn’t prepared for how big and abundant everything was, the size of the atolls themselves, the populations and varieties of fish, giant clams, sea cucumbers. The diversity of corals. It was, and still is, one of the healthiest reef environments in the world.” These are the Rowley Shoals, and they might be the best dive destination you’ve never heard of.
The shoals lie 260km offshore from Broome / Rubibi, a pearling town on Western Australia’s northwest coast. They were first charted in 1818 by Captain Phillip Parker King of the British Royal Navy. Then aged just 26, King explored and mapped the, at the time difficult to access, Kimberley coast region of Western Australia. He named the three atolls after Captain Rowley who’d visited himself 18 years earlier; King’s vessel was HMS Mermaid, Rowley was commander of HMS Imperieuse, while Clerke Reef was named for a whaling boat captain known to frequent the area. The shoals all appear remarkably similar – tear-drop shaped, each between 10 and 14 kilometres long and six to eight kilometres wide. Clerke Reef sits 23 kilometres south of Mermaid Reef, Imperieuse Reef 35 kilometres south of Clerke.
Dr Gilmour’s research focuses on the northern reefs off Western Australia, specifically, the long-term dynamics of coral communities – how they adapt to the impacts of natural and human-induced stressors. According to James, Rowley Shoals has so far occupied a kind of ‘goldilocks’ zone as we’ve watched our oceans warm: “If you look at a map showing the extreme levels of ocean warming in recent months, Scott Reef, situated 460km northeast of Rowley Shoals, has been hit by the worst of it. But the ocean around Rowley Shoals, far less.”
In recent years, coral bleaching has occurred with alarming frequency, and all over the world. There have been minor bleaching events at Rowley Shoals, but not yet any mass bleaching.
“When the ocean temperature reaches two degrees above the usual range for more than a few weeks, corals will expel the algae from their tissue. Without the algae, the tissue is translucent, and you can see the white calcium-carbonate skeleton, hence the term coral ‘bleaching’. The corals may recover their algae, but if the elevated temperatures persist, they may not. This leads to the sight no diver or snorkeler wants to see, of dead, slime covered reefs, the fish-life long since vanished,” adds James.
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Rowley Shoals Marine Park, near Broome.
“They might be the best dive destination you've never heard of.”
The shoals are actually drowned sandstone mountaintops, as opposed to extinct volcanoes, a legacy of much lower sea levels in ages past. It’s supposed that coral larvae were carried here by currents flowing south from Indonesia. “Since the last ice age, growth of some of the coral reefs along the edge of the Continental Shelf managed to keep pace with sea-level rise. Three atoll systems remain at or near the ocean’s surface – Scott Reef, Ashmore Reef, and Rowley Shoals,” says James. Rowley Shoals is the southernmost, inhabited by 230 different types of coral and 700 species of fish.
Like anywhere in northwest Western Australia, protection largely comes down to splendid isolation.
To give you some idea, my visit in November of 2023 began with flights from Sydney to Perth / Boorloo to Broome, a hotel overnight stay, and then a late afternoon boat departure and all-night motoring to reach the shoals. You won't stumble across this special spot. The few hundred visitors here a year are those who are on a mission to explore some of the world's most untouched and beautiful ocean environments. Given the near-pristine state of Rowley Shoals, government oversight is a serious business. Various government agencies work together on surveillance, reef management and scientific research projects.
In April of 2023, Cyclone Ilsa put Rowley Shoals suddenly onto the world media radar, when it left eleven Indonesian fishermen stranded on Bedwell Islet, a ribbon of sand in the heart of Clerke Reef. The fishermen were spotted from the air and then rescued, after six days, by members of the Australian Maritime Safety Authority. As dive and snorkel boats
only visit the area from September until November, the fishermen were on their own in April.
This incident served as an important reminder, if any were needed, that there’s still high demand in Asia for sea snails (trochus niloticus), sea cucumbers and shark fin, all species that have been illegally taken here. “Illegal fishing is a complex issue,” says James. “These are Australian waters and if you don’t have the appropriate permits, you shouldn’t be fishing here.
But there are multiple economic factors driving this behaviour – everything from the impacts of Covid, to corporate-driven greed targeting certain marine species, to global pressures brought about by the Ukraine war. My sense is that most fishermen are driven to do what they do by some form of economic necessity.”
There are in fact fisherfolk on board my boat trip, and while the skipper allows fishing only in those zones where it’s permitted, I can report that we eat what we catch, and leave the echinoderms (sea cucumbers) and mollusks (sea snails) alone. The legal targets out here include wahoo, yellowfin and dogtooth tuna, sailfin, and Spanish mackerel. Trolling with artificial lures, our crew land some impressive Spanish mackerel and yellowfin tuna but report losing half a dozen fish to savvy whaler sharks and tiger sharks.
Rowley Shoals Marine Park is a paradise for divers and snorkellers.
“The shoals are drowned sandstone mountaintops, as opposed to extinct volcanoes, a legacy of much lower sea levels in ages past.”
Most tour boats moor inside Clerke Reef, for its sheltered snorkeling and diving and the sliver of sand that is Bedwell, the only landfall we make on what is otherwise a five-night liveaboard trip. Here, schools of tiny fish coloured electric blue, green, or purple dart among the staghorn coral gardens. Wildly colourful, globally threatened, humphead Maori wrasse (Cheilinus undulatus) and bumphead parrotfish (Bolbometopon muricatum), some a metre long, nibble away at the hard corals. Black-tip reef sharks flit among the sandy shallows, while scuba divers keep a lookout for silver-tip whaler sharks which are broader and altogether more ‘sharky’, as they swish by overhead.
Sea anemones can be just about any colour, but until I snorkel ‘The Aquarium’ (so named for its peppering of shallow fish-festooned coral ‘bommies’), the ones I’ve seen previously were shades of orange, brown and cream. Here, I find myself goggling at one that’s a blazing neon purple.
Equally mind-hurtling are the clownfish protected by its poisonous tentacles – a dozen or so tiny juveniles coloured midnight blue with bands of iridescent aqua. It’s difficult even for marine scientists to say which fish or corals might be endemic to Rowley Shoals, although in my own experience, isolated atolls like these typically have unique variations on some familiar species.
Three parallel channels run into the heart of Clerke Reef, the narrowest of them known to boat skippers as the ‘dinghy channel’, because nothing bigger will fit through. Tides hereabouts can rise or fall by five metres in six hours, among the world’s largest.
Dive masters take advantage of the tides, dropping snorkellers at the entrance to the dinghy channel for a ‘drift’ snorkel. It’s effectively an 800-metre-long amusement park ride, face-down mask-on, over the top of a magnificent aquarium. On a turning
tide, we’re able to take a current-free meander along several cracks in a coral wall that lead up to a section of exposed outer-reef flat. Schools of blue-green parrotfish are everywhere, as are Moorish Idols, countless ‘chromis’, and varieties of pufferfish I’ve not seen anywhere else. Later I gear up for a scuba dive, descending to 20 metres and drifting along a coral wall with enormous red and orange sea-fans and plate corals the size of coffee tables. Hovering beneath are pairs of coral trout and banded snapper. When our group of four divers surfaces, we kick away from the wall and float about in the great blue yonder grinning at each other in silent stupefied awe.
I last puttered towards the (now world-famous) Bedwell Islet in 2010, in a boat tender carrying six divers plus food and drink supplies, planning a lazy afternoon on the beach. I wrote then: “Bedwell is used as a rest-stop by red-tailed tropicbirds, whitebellied sea-eagles and ship-bound divers.”
Nothing has changed, and yet everything has changed. Global temperatures look set to sail past the 1.5 degree rise above pre-industrial baselines, nudging human survival into uncertain territory. The attendant sea-level rise, now five millimetres per year, might see this tiny islet, which is two metres above sea-level at its highest point, eventually swallowed by the Indian Ocean.
In April of 2024, Dr Gilmour joined a dozen other scientists to spend three weeks aboard AIMS research vessel RV Solander. Climate models already predict coral bleaching and coral mortality at Ashmore and Scott reefs. Rowley Shoals, however, seems to have been spared. James intended to examine all three to assess coral damage but also resurveyed longterm monitoring sites, took samples for laboratory genetic analysis, and contributed to the development of a framework to guide management decisions, including novel interventions.
The research Dr Gilmour and coral scientists like him are doing is both pragmatic and optimistic. Scientists won’t stop ocean warming any time soon, but managing coral reefs through future warming will benefit from their triage approach: identify first which part of a reef, and which particular types of coral, have escaped the worst of the impacts from climate change; explore farming the corals that are best adapted to ocean warming and other pressures. “Corals are sensitive and fragile, but some prove to be surprisingly resilient too. What we continue to learn about them will inform management practices, and, we hope, ultimately preserve pristine reefs like the Rowley Shoals,” concludes Dr Gilmour.
TOP: A paddleboarder enjoys the calm waters.
BOTTOM LEFT: A healthy coral reef. Photograph by Dr James Gilmour.
BOTTOM RIGHT: A diver enjoys the Marine Park. Photograph by Dr James Gilmour.
Mandurah MEETING PLACE OF THE HEART
Located less than an hour from Perth, Mandurah is Western Australia’s second largest city. Here, the Mandurah Estuary and Peel Inlet is a large system of shallow estuarine and saline, brackish and freshwater lakes. This diverse ecosystem is not only a habitat for many plant and animal species but is also regarded as one of Australia's most spectacular playgrounds for boating, fishing and wildlife watching.
Words by Nori Jemil
Photographs by Nori Jemil and Tourism Western Australia
An entire continent surrounded by water, Australia has long been synonymous with oceanside living, marine conservation and leisure pursuits, from surfing and sailing to deep sea fishing and reef diving. And oceans are perhaps even more significant to Western Australia, the state that encompasses around one third of this island nation, with a mainland coastline of its own of almost 13,000km - close to 21,000km if you include its islands. It seems understandable then, when overseas and interstate visitors have sensational locations like the Coral Coast, Ningaloo Reef / Nyinggulu and the northern Kimberley shores vying for their attention – even the capital, Perth / Boorloo, has some of Western Australia’s most unspoiled Indian Ocean beaches – that Western Australia’s second largest city, Mandurah / Mandjoogoordap, is not everyone’s first port of call.
To be perfectly honest, it has also had a bit of a reputational problem, with urbane Western Australians perhaps looking down on Mandurah as a bit of a poor relation, a one-time sleepy fishing village that was good for day trips or affordable summer holidays. But something has shifted in the last decade, and Mandurah's low key development is now its new appeal. In our current world of over-tourism the historic ‘backwater’ slurs have transformed into gilt-edged compliments amongst those looking to escape the crowds and seek out places further off the beaten track.
Located less than an hour from Perth, and easily reachable by train (the link with Western Australia's capital opened in 2007), Mandurah is connected to the Indian Ocean via the Dawesville Channel and Harvey Estuary. Sometimes though, and unusually for most places on Australia’s coast, it can feel a million miles away from the open seas. Its unique geography has created the Mandurah Estuary and Peel Inlet, covering 134 square kilometres of shallow estuarine and saline, freshwater and brackish lakes. It comes as something of a surprise to find out that the estuary is twice the size of Sydney Harbour. In 1990, The Peel-Harvey Estuary was listed under the Ramsar Convention (the international treaty, or Convention of Wetlands, signed in Ramsar, Iran in 1971 to protect wetlands and the wildlife ecosystems that thrive around them) as an area of international
significance. It also has the largest thrombolite reef in the southern hemisphere at Lake Clifton in Yalgorup National Park, south of the city.
I join Mandurah-born conservationist Natalie Goddard for a walk in the 29-hectare Creery Wetlands Nature Reserve. She tells me that the area was almost lost to development in the 1980s and 1990s, but was fought off by community protests and court action. She’s a bit of an all-rounder – a local dolphin, birdlife and wetlands expert, as well as a river cruise guide. As we unlock the gates to the reserve – it’s gated to keep domestic dogs and cats out of the protected zone, but always open to human visitors - it’s surprising to find such a large area of nature so close to city housing, where samphire, river mint and the humorously-named Aussie succulent, pigface, grow. She points out various bird species (there are over 130 that migrate or live here) and we spot an enormous, white-bellied sea eagle – with a wingspan of around two metres, it’s Australia’s second largest raptor, or bird of prey.
Visible in the distance to the naked eye, I watch through her binoculars as Natalie tells me that 21 species of migratory birds arrive here in October, having lost about 75% of their body weight during their journey from the northerly realms, like Siberia and Alaska. The wetlands “provide a place of safety where they can rest and recover”. We’re on our own for most of the hour or two we spend here, though one other pair of walkers appear, as does a little kangaroo, who’s called to by Natalie with a gentle clicking sound she’s obviously perfected. It stays in the brush and doesn’t move at all, as we approach for a better look, making eye contact with us for some time before eventually hopping off.
Natalie tells me about the important community action that has driven positive change in Mandurah, involving key stakeholders from local Aboriginal Elders to government, tourism board and volunteer groups. Once a year, Birdlife Australia is responsible for a bird count, usually in February, and the Peel Preservation Group is another volunteer organisation that’s involved in keeping the environment healthy, with beach cleaning operations run alongside Coastal Waste Warriors. “One thing we don’t have an issue with is volunteers – people really care.”
We stop for a coffee and meet Lee Beavis, one of the area’s most active volunteers. Originally from New Zealand, she’s been in Western Australia for 27 years and is something of a stalwart of the Western Australian Seabird Rescue service. She shows me the back of her vehicle, filled with every kind of basket, cage, blanket and device to help her capture
“The wetlands provide a place of safety where they can rest and recover.”
TOP: Coastal trail of Mandurah.
BOTTOM: Visitors on an ecotourism trip spot dolphins.
“Mandurah has risen to prominence as a place where community spirit is saving wildlife and wild spaces.”
and transport injured animals to the nearest wildlife hospital. If locals spot an issue, it’s often Lee who gets called out.
The thriving population of 80-90 Pacific bottlenose dolphins (kwillana in the indigenous local language) living in the Peel-Harvey Estuary year-round, is what brought world-renowned dolphin expert Dr Krista Nicholson to the area - there’s also a coastal community around the Dawesville Cut. Dr Nicholson, of Murdoch University, leads the Mandurah Dolphin Research Project, exploring in particular the social nature of this community, as well as their role in the ecology of the coastal and estuarine waters. She’s currently working on research into live stranding and fishing line entanglement, doing a huge amount to educate the community. She’s out of state when I visit, but I hear her name a lot. Mandurah is working hard to educate people on sustainable fishing, with advice on what to do if they snag a bird or discover an injured animal. The various dolphin action groups, like Estuary Guardians Mandurah started in 2015 by John Tonkin College students and teachers, demonstrate that citizen science and collaborative action are core threads in the fabric of this region.
The group of dolphins here is a rather special one, according to Natalie, as the separation from the ocean keeps them to their own community. “That’s what drives Krista’s passion. It’s such a unique population of dolphins.” Some may leave for adventures further afield, but new arrivals are always driven back by the various inhabitants, keen to keep these waterways to themselves. “Dolphins are territorial. Occasionally, young juvenile males might venture off and never come back, but no new ones can come in.” And it’s for that reason, Natalie tells me, that they can identify all the local dolphins from their fins. It's also why she sends out her drone to search for any stranded or sick animals, taking care to keep an eye on expectant mothers, and adding any new arrivals to the community count. “If any of the mature females die, we lose the calves they’re going to have,” and that would be disastrous for the population. Every three years a female will have a new calf, and she tells me about Nicky, one female she’s monitored for years -
“I’ve seen eight of her calves come into the world.”
The young are born between January and March, and they are expecting nine or ten in 2024.
Talk to anyone here, and you realise that locals, some of whom have relocated from the capital for a quieter life, do not take this environment for granted. The development of an artificial canal system created much desired and upmarket waterside housing, but a community class action group stopped the further loss of wetlands. Mandurah has risen to prominence as a place where community spirit is saving wildlife and wild spaces, but it’s also pioneering accessible tourism, with all-terrain wheelchairs, accessible boat trips and beach matting so that everyone can reach the water’s edge. Mandurah’s success seems to have sprung from encouraging its citizens to take part in its ecological health, and it seems to be paying off. It’s no wonder that Mandurah was given the accolade of Australia’s top tourism town in 2023.
It's not news for the Bindjareb people of the Noongar Nation however, who chose it as one of only a few significant meeting places in Western Australia, calling it Mandjoogoordap, or ‘meeting place of the heart’. Going back perhaps as far as 60,000 years to the beginnings of indigenous Australian communities, the unique estuarine geography enabled Aboriginal peoples to create their own natural weir, helped by winter rains which forced shoals of fish through these channels, encouraging widely scattered Noongar communities to come together to feast and connect.
The Aboriginal communities of Mandurah are the Custodians of the lands, which encompass waterways, rivers, lakes, the estuaries, ocean and coastal plains. They’ve always valued and understood how the connected ecosystems of any landscape are as significant for human health as they are for wildlife, and Natalie tells me about Aboriginal Elder George Walley and his extended family who continue to pass on their ancestral knowledge, teaching and working with young people on projects to instil some of the old ways.
As the local Bindjareb people say, it’s ‘Ngalang Kaadadjan, Ngalang Boodja’, or ‘Our Knowledge, Our Land’, and they have an important origin story of how the inlet was formed, the legacy of which can be seen in the architecture of the city. The curved seawall in Mandurah’s central bay is built to reflect the shape of the Wagyl, an important spirit of the Noongar Nation. This rainbow serpent or snake is seen as the giver of life, maintaining all fresh water sources. And on Mandurah Bridge, the welcome sign for visitors to Bindjareb country is written in both Noongar and
TOP: Pelicans are common visitors to Mandurah.
BOTTOM: A well-camouflaged bush kangaroo at Creery Wetlands Nature Reserve.
“With the same ethos as the Bindjareb people, the Mandurah Giants are protectors of the environment.”
English, for everyone to feel included. Cycling over it, one can’t help but feel the importance of belonging here, which is reinforced by the friendliness of complete strangers who greet you as you pass by. Even Julie, at the Bike Kiosk, offers to drive me out to see some local sights the next day, going way beyond the usual ‘Here’s your bike, bring it back at 6 please’. Mandurah obviously made an impact on worldfamous Danish recycle artist Thomas Dambo too, who settled on the city as the ideal natural environment for five of his new giants, made from recycled wood.
Around the world these playful trolls look out over natural settings, from mountains to forests or coastal viewpoints. With the same ethos as the Bindjareb people, the Mandurah Giants are protectors of the environment, hugging trees or holding their arms up in excited welcome and celebration of the ocean, like Santi Ikto, the 7m tall cross-legged troll on a grassy dune at Hall’s Head. And Yaburgurt Cirkelstone in Coodanup is named in honour of a respected Elder of the Bindjareb people. This giant is playfully propped up on his forearms, holding onto a piece of local limestone. Backed by bushland, he’s relaxed and laying out on the sand, allegedly overfull from feasting on too many crabs.
I join a Murray River tour with Mandurah Cruises, and, as we leave the marina and its clutch of hotel complexes and restaurants behind, we pass by several people kayaking. It feels strange to be heading inland,
instead of out to sea. It’s less the quintessential Australian sea cruise, of which I have done many, and more reminiscent of the deep south of the USA, or Florida’s Everglades.
The further we head away from the coast, the more we start to see colonies of sandbar-dwelling pelicans and cormorants, and older, wooden houses lining the shores of the Murray River. It’s quite a sight to see people walking on water here, crabbing for the famous native blue swimmer, or manna crab, with nets, in the traditional style of Aboriginal hunters who for millennia have waded in the shallows, through mangroves and over sandbars.
We leave the boat briefly to visit Cooper’s Mill on Cooleenup Island. Now a museum, the mill once served settlers in the 19th century, grinding crops that were brought to the mill owner via the river. On the way there, our guide points to a pair of tawny frogmouth birds, camouflaged so well in the paperbark tree that only someone as knowledgeable about the landscape would be able to spot them.
Having spent the day on the water, it’s hard to leave it behind. After disembarking, I take a last walk around Mandjar bay. I watch as West Australia’s iconic black swan, the bird emblem of the state and after which Perth’s original ‘Swan River Colony’ was first named, swims in to take a sip of fresh water from a flowing stream. Further along a flock of gulls have found another source of freshwater. I continue on around the foreshore, beyond the jetties where boys fish with lines, surrounded by patient pelicans, waiting for a minnow that might wriggle free.
As the sun gets lower on the horizon, it seems more apparent to me how entwined so many people are in Mandurah with their environment. At dusk I find people who’ve left the comfort of their living rooms or backyards, to see the day’s end, most likely hoping to witness dolphins feeding in the fading light. None of us is disappointed, as both a pelican and a bottlenose glide over to the water’s edge. “Oh, you should have seen the sky the other day. It was blazing,” says an elderly man sitting on a bench. As the sky turns orange, he utters quietly, almost to himself, “It’s the best view in the world.”
A kayaker in the calm waters around Mandjar Bay.
