Sharks, birds, and a night in a resort!

Crocodiles have a reputation for gnawing on the odd kayak as it drifts north along the QLD coast. Crocs, however, have a great habit of camouflaging themselves and undoubtedly we have so far slipped past many hungry sets of jaws waiting to take a toothy bite of plastic rudder (or an unlucky paddler!).

On the other hand, sharks are not quite so cautious with their approach. When paddling over reefs we regularly pass gangs of cheeky sharks resembling the troublesome teens up to mischief in shopping centre carparks. Sharks approach the kayaks with the "are you lookin' at me?" attitude and while we haven't yet had a set of sharpened gnashers fasten onto our thin plastic hulls, I suspect that day is approaching. As our latitude decreases the sharks are increasing in both number and size and several times in the last few days I have glanced over at Lain's boat to see a razor-like fin slicing thew water just metres behind the rudder. When sitting in a 5.5m boat, a 3.5m shark looks pretty dangerous, at least that is what seemed to be written across Lain's face as one whaler did a u-turn behind her and slipped effortlessly into her wake.

Sea birds gather in abundance on the reefs and islands of this remote region. From a distance we appear to be approaching a large unmarked rock on the horizon, and then the rock moves. A boil of fish below the water attracts huge numbers of birds and our approach sets the sentries on high alert. The boobies are the first to approach, and there are often more boobies than at a nudist beach in the south of France. Although not quite as inquisitive as the paparazzi at a royal wedding, these graceful gliders swoop and hover to gain a good view of what we are up to below (perhaps we look edible!).

Next are the noddies, black tern-like birds with a clean white head, that approach in the thousands. They zoom past us at cruising speed and crash into the water to feast on the abundant schools below. Small storm petrels hover and dance on the water, effortlessly leaping from one small wave to the next. The shrill squeaks of birds directly above usually signal a pair of small white terns with a long forked tail gossiping away to each other like ladies in a hair salon.

The water is alive, the air is full, this place is truly a haven for wildlife.

Despite being quite happy to spend another night sharing a beach with the ghost crabs, we had the good fortune to arrive on Haggerston Island for a night. We were welcomed as guests to the small and private resort that has been painstakingly built here in a beautiful and unique New Guinean style. The lagoon here harboured so much life, so many big fish, that yet again we had to invent a new scale for measuring how incredible our snorkelling experience was. While we made every effort to help the hard working staff to prepare the evening meal, nothing we could have done could have possibly repaid the incredible meal that we were served - sweet and succulent coral trout and red emperor served with fresh garden vegetables, and a cold beer. We had a fabulous evening, shared with the guests, staff and owner of this remarkable resort and we thank you all for your generous hospitality.

As we approach The Tip the mangroves are getting thicker, the water murkier and our croc-dar is getting more active by the day. Another week or so and we should be resting our weary elbows on the beer mats of a bar in Thursday Island, reflecting on our first leg of this journey. But that is a week away, there's so much more to see, so many place names on the map.

Picture: Lain snorkelling in the lagoon at Haggerston Island.