|
My
first serious attempt at underwater photography took place
recently in a freshwater creek flowing through the Daintree
rainforest in north Queensland. This region, remarkable both
for its natural beauty and outstanding diversity of plant
and animal life, was recently under threat from local and
State Government (both of whom wanted it opened up for logging).
However, it is now protected by inclusion in UNESCO's World
Heritage List. Unfortunately this came too late to prevent
construction of the infamous road from Cape Tribulation to
Bloomfield.
The
Daintree/Cape Tribulation area is notable as one of the three
places on earth where the normally mutually-exclusive zones
of tropical rainforest and coral reef actually meet. Opponents
of the dirt road thought that its presence would result in
sediment being swept by heavy rains into the sea, thereby
choking coral polyps on the fringing reefs. As it was Stinger
Season (Box Jellyfish, Chironex fleckeri) and Saltwater Crocodiles
were cruising from creek to creek, nobody_was out swimming,
so I thought it prudent not to investigate too closely myself.
Several local residents informed me that the offshore coral
was now either dying or already dead. My
Nikonos V and Morris Aqua F3 flashgun were christened in a
creek surrounded by majestic forest giants, Fan Palms, Stinging
Trees and dense thickets of wickedly spiny Calamus (a climbing
palm with many names, mostly unprintable), Fruit bats dozed
languidly in a tree over the water, and cassowaries had been
seen in the area.
TORTOISES
& TURTLES
The
sluggish water was very clear. A small footbridge spanned
the creek, and from this I was able to attract - with the
aid of bread crumbs -a faithful following of local fishes
together with a number of Water Tortoises. These came in all
sizes, ranging from tiny and exquisite juveniles to venerable
grand tortoises. I later discovered that both tortoises and
fish could be summoned readily simply by slapping my hand
on the water's surface. The tortoises (Elseya latisternum),
or turtles as many people insist on calling them, often came
within reach of the probes of my Ocean Optics close-up lens,
but would invariably scoot away before I could react. Initially
I took pictures by simple submerging the gear whilst I lay
on the bridge. This was effective with some species, such
as gudgeon, beautiful orange fish that would nibble my fingers
and nuzzle the probes and lens, so much that at times they
were a positive nuisance. The close-up lens worked well, though
it had a tendency to grip my ancient 35 mm Nikkor lens none
too well. Luring other species within reach of the probes
proved difficult, and only once did I succeed in getting close
to the Jungle Perch (Kuhlia pupestris). These attractive large-scaled
fish with two black spots each side of the tail were always
around but shy, despite their apparent tameness. One large
and fiercely territorial individual was inordinately fond
of muesli bars. Experiments with Ocean Optics extension tubes
were not a success, as I could not persuade anything other than gudgeon to come close enough. Lying
on the bridge was very uncomfortable, so eventually I entered
the water. At first I stirred up the bottom pretty badly,
but after a few minutes the almost imperceptible current swept
the sediment downstream, so as long as I faced upstream into
the current I could always enjoy clear visibility. The bottom
varied too, with murk-producing mounds of decaying vegetation
in some places, and good sand in others. The tortoises, alas,
resolutely refused to come within focal distance whilst I
was immersed, but schools of ferocious-looking Tarpon or Ox-eye
Herring (Megalops cyprinoides) did. Despite their menacing
aura (they looked as if they felt they owned the waterway)
they would not come really close.
CATFISH
Another
inhabitant of the creek was the Eel-tailed Catfish and although
there are supposed to be many species in Australian freshwater,
I saw them only occasionally. Guessing distance with a 35
mm lens was a real headache, so I fashioned a measuring rod
from a sapling, which floating on the surface drifted away
so slowly that I usually had an accurate gauge ready to hand. Mosquitoes
were an added distraction. Even whilst almost totally submerged,
they would pay keen attention to the back of my neck. The
locally recommended repellent (a cream so powerful that local
bush walkers would not use it on account of its alleged carcinogenic
properties) did not deter them.
FLASH FLOOD
One
problem with my otherwise excellent Morris F3 showed itself
after the first session. The battery compartment leaked! At
first this was not serious, just a slight dampness around
the batteries that was easily wiped away. Certainly the unit
continued to function underwater, but I could not locate the
source of the leak. I dismantled the battery compartment,
greased every conceivable place, and still the water came
in. On one occasion it jammed so tight that my attempts to
get it unscrewed resulted in a badly blistered finger. I thought
I had the problem licked when I sealed the tightening screw
with blue tack and entered saltwater with it for the first
time. After a delightful day spent diving around a fish-rich
bommie near Snapper Island (guaranteed croc-free), I opened
the flashgun to discover to my horror that the battery and
contacts were corroded. The manager of an underwater photographic
store in Cairns subsequently pinpointed some minute hair line
cracks in the battery compartment cover, but I could barely
see them and await verification. His suggestion was to araldite
it all over. The
fringing reefs at Cape Tribulation are said to be dead in
places. At low tide, beside the beautiful sandy beaches, the
remnants of an old and very worn reef are exposed. Sea kayaks
may be hired at the Cape to explore further, but rough weather
intervened whenever I tried to do so. Good diving may be enjoyed
off Snapper Island, where my last attempt to get my Morris
to behave resulted in its watery demise. Camping is allowed
on this island, where ready access to colourful corals and
giant clams in shallow water is had simply by crossing the
dead white coral fragments on the beach. Next time I shall
be equipped with a lycra body-suit to frustrate the Box Jellyfish.
Reproduced
from in focus 47. Mar. 93 |
