A Whale of a Time: Exploring Western Australia’s Ningaloo Coast

On the other side of Australia, the Great Barrier Reef is deservedly well-known to tourists. It’s the world’s largest coral reef system, spanning 2,300km along Queensland’s coast. The more remote Ningaloo tends to garner less attention, despite being the largest fringing coral reef in the world. In some places, you can access its wonders directly from the beach, without needing a boat.

I spent the day drifting between the beach and the central hub of Sal Salis, a communal area where meals are served and there’s an all-day bar where you can help yourself to snacks and drinks. On the beach, cushioned daybeds and deckchairs with umbrellas provide shelter from the sun. When the soporific effects of the heat blurred the print in my book, a quick hop across hot sand saw me refreshed by clear Indian Ocean waters, my senses revived by the wonders of the reef.

All 16 tents at Sal Salis are luxuriously equipped in that understated glam-safari, eco-lodge way. Beneath soaring canopies, you’ll find plump beds made up with chemical-free cottons, as well as ensuite bathrooms stocked with toiletries blended from local, organic ingredients. Yoga mats, gowns, beach towels and an in-tent fridge have all been thoughtfully provided.

Wander over to the hub for something stronger than a bottle of water from your fridge, and you’ll be able to pick up a book from the swap-shelf, check out the dinner menu or book a tour. Some tours, such as guided hiking in the National Park, snorkelling and kayaking, are included. Others, such as swimming with whale sharks or spotting humpback whales (dependent on the time of year), are additional.

It is hard to tear yourself away from Sal Salis, but I planned my trip to coincide with whale shark season. Despite stereotypes about dangerous Australian sharks, these ones are harmless to humans. They have more than 300 tiny teeth and feed on plankton and krill, which are abundant during Ningaloo’s coral spawning season.

Although many corals and fish are visible within a few metres of the sand, whale sharks are a little more elusive. Scientists still know relatively little about them, including where or how they mate or give birth. This is partly because they’re capable of diving to incredible depths, with scientists estimating they can go down as far as two kilometres below the surface.

We’re briefed on these facts during the journey out to where the whale sharks will likely be found. Spotter planes circle above, ready to radio the skipper when the broad, white-spattered backs of these gentle giants are sighted.

Protocols are important here. Ningaloo Reef has been recognised as one of the most ethical places in the world to swim with whale sharks, thanks to practices that make the impact of interaction virtually negligible. These include having a maximum number of people in the water at any one time, as well as minimum distance rules. And absolutely no feeding, diving or flash photography are allowed. Suitably instructed and kitted up in snorkelling gear, we were poised for the “Go! Go!” from our guide.

Poised, but not prepared — because nothing can prepare you for coming face to face with these amazing creatures — a serene, gaping smile as wide as an arm-span and a body that’s flecked with starbursts and as big as a double-decker bus. Moments become a millisecond. I felt that I barely had time to compute the whale shark’s magnificence before it dived out of sight.

Back in my hammock at Sal Salis that night, after sharing the day’s adventures with other guests at the communal tables, I realise it’s quite something that whale shark tourism is managed so well here. This means its effects on the sharks are insignificant, but its impact on those of us who have encountered them are anything but. Call it a tick on the bucket list if you wish. I’d call it momentous, moving and utterly unforgettable.

Sarah was a guest of Tourism Western Australia: westernaustralia.com