I looked out over the ocean, as the waves of the Pacific Ocean crashed along the beaches of Cairns. The sound was deafening – crash, crash, CRASH. The sunburn, immeasurable.

The sea, my friend, dividing me with thousands of miles from friends and family. The waters, a rich blue, reached up to meet me as the sturdy white catamaran around me pounded through the waves towards our final destination. A small offshore viewing station, my anticipation of my upcoming time in the ocean, amongst the waves, growing.

Northern Queensland sits on the Northeast side of the Australian countryside, along the sprawling waves of the Great Barrier Reef. My colleagues and I, foreign visitors at best, had faithfully all signed up to join the great barrage of photo-taking, environment-harming tourist activities to explore the much-talked-about reef. The sturdy catamaran, a larger version of the small, family-friendly water cruiser, held an average of 50 visitors for each three-hour trip into the reef waters. On one side of the boat, a small, ten-person submarine, touted in the brochure as providing the “best reef views in town”. A small perch on the starboard of the boat open to tourists looking for a less-claustrophobic approach to the reef – tank-diving or snorkeling.