110 NATGEOTRAVEL.COM
AUSTRALIA While most guests at the Lady Elliot Island Eco Resort
off the coast of Queensland were pouring their first cup of coffee,
a few of us were donning wet suits and grabbing masks, fins, and
snorkels, then walking 10 minutes to the far side of the island
for a sunrise swim.
Peter Gash, the island’s tireless steward, was the instigator
of this early-morning meditation that started with a shock of
cold as we eased into the pink-tinted waters. Floating facedown
above corals that form the southern end of the Great Barrier Reef,
we drifted alongside Gash, who pointed out underwater won-
ders: clown fish, moon wrasse, parrotfish, painted flutemouth,
angelfish, white-banded triggerfish. A reef shark coasted by,
ignoring our excited gesturing as we made sure none in our small
group missed the sighting. A sea turtle popped its head up before
dipping back down to find an outcropping of coral on which to
scratch its shell. The crystalline water was a miracle in itself.
It wasn’t always this way. Before I arrived at Lady Elliot
Island, what I knew of the 1,400-mile-long Great Barrier Reef
was a narrative of devastating coral bleaching that heralded its
imminent death.
Lady Elliot Island itself, named in 1816 by Captain Thomas
Stuart aboard the ship of the same name, was a guano-rich island
mined for a decade in the 1800s, its fish and turtles depleted.
Around 1873, stripped of resources, the island was abandoned
to the sun and shifting winds. In 1969 Australian aviator Don
Adams built an airstrip and accommodations, started replanting
the island, and over time created a no-frills resort. The torch
was taken up by fellow Australian pilot Gash, who brought solar
power, desalination, and composting to the island. He firmly
established the remote resort—now 40-plus cottages and glamp-
ing tents, many of which open directly onto the white-sand
beach—as a leader in sustainable tourism, a model for other
resorts along the Great Barrier Reef.
Lady Elliot Island is especially known for manta rays and
participates in Project Manta, a research program based at the
University of Queensland, Brisbane. Researchers have used
the island as a home base for studying the mantas’ migration,
behavior, and health. May is the early season for mantas, and,
as I bobbed in the waters of a new day, I hoped I’d get a glimpse
of one. It wasn’t until we turned back toward shore that we all
heard someone bellow, “Raaaay!” Masks slapped down into the
water. The manta, spanning more than 15 feet, hovered at a
“cleaning station” so wrasse could groom its gills and fins. We
hovered above on the surface, wishing we too had gills so we
could glide as effortlessly, exploring the ocean’s depths.TREAD
LIGHTLY AND
BE OPEN
TO AWE
BY
ANNE FARRAR
WOMEN & ADVENTURE: TRAVEL LESSONS