The environment encompassing Exmouth, Western Australia, is riddled with contrasts. Basically, the locals have adopted the slogan, "Exmouth, where the Outback meets the reef." While the locals may see the slogan as adequate, having experienced a little of what the area has to offer, I must say the slogan is lacking.
Now, why is it lacking?
For starters, it barely rains in Exmouth. Here the average annual rainfall is approximately 10 inches. For comparison sake, Virginia receives an annual rainfall of 43 inches. Now, take into consideration annual evaporation is approximately 100 inches, yes, TEN TIMES the average rainfall. So, it should come as a surprise that life even exists in Exmouth, considering the assumed lack of fresh water.
Not to mention, Exmouth is HOT. Located at 23 degrees south latitude, the town lies just north of the Tropic of Capricorn, and experiences summertime temperatures reaching 50 degrees centigrade, or 122 degrees Fahrenheit!
Yet, the rain deprived and sunbaked peninsula supports life.
Emus, euros (1/2 wallaby, 1/2 kangaroo), red kangaroos, eastern grey kangaroos, and two wild horses all graze on the hearty plant life of the area. Having no choice, animals have adapted to extract water necessary for survival from the plants they consume. Puddles and other sources of groundwater are an extreme rarity.
Shrubs compose the majority of plant life in the region, however echidnas (spikey, egg-laying, mammals) owe their existence to the industrious termites which thrive on the abundance of spinifex. Spinifex is an iconic grass found throughout the arid regions of central Australia. Ironically, the grass is not a direct food source for any of our grazers. In fact, it seems spinifex only prupose is to aggrevate careless hikers. Growing two feet tall, the sturdy grass blades are adorned with needle-like tips made of silica that can penetrate denim with ease, not to mention the fragile human flesh that lies beneath. Unfortunately, spinifex punctures can lead to serious infections if gone untreated.
If anything, Exmouth locals are trained in first aid, or at least that is what I like to think. When it comes to potential dangers, spinifex only scratches the surface. Aside from many of the other plants being covered by thorns, the very earth supporting the plants presents a serious problem.
Geologically, the terrain is very soft, meaning the ground, formed of sandstone and limestone, is easily eroded. However, 10-20 million years of wind and rain have created a rugged and unfriendly landscape that is anything but "soft." Given the crumbling condition of the rocks, even the sure-footed hiker is bound to fall. In which case, landing in a bed of spinifex would be a blessing; pin pricks as opposed to the certain deep lacerations that would occur from the jagged rocky spires.
With or without appropriate help, the shortest hike could have the worst consequences. While I like to think a desperate dingo would not be attracted to the scent of blood, there is no guarantee. Without a friend in sight, you might just end up a piece of meat, eventually picked clean by a wedge-tailed eagle, butcher bird, or sun-drunk perentie lizard.
Honestly, the landscape is unforgiving, but as stated before life continues to exist. But how? The answer lies below the surface... at least for human life. It turns out the sandstone and limestone are extremely porous and absorb rainfall like a sponge, and store it in giant underground aquifers. Fortunately for us, this has meant that we have not had to extract water from munching on bitter and spiky plant life in the area. Rather an assortment of drill bits, pumps, hoses, and pipes bring "fresh" water to the surface for our rapid consumption. While fortunate, the aquifer's supply is finite, and the water extracted will always have the consistency of syrup and be chocked full of heavy metals and calcium carbonate.
Despite all the talk about freshwater, it actually poses a threat to Exmouth's most notable feature, the Ningaloo Reef. Spanning a length of 260 km. (?), the Ningaloo Reef is the largest fringe reef in the world. However, the reef and all of its inhabitants are extremely fragile, affected by the smallest fluctuations in salinity, temperature, and depth. Fortunately, the reef is healthy, as noted by the absence of coral bleaching, the absence of crown-of-thorn starfish, the variety of soft and hard corals, and the abundance of marine life.
While the corals and other marine life found on the reef may be similar to those found throughout the Indo-Pacific, the popularity of the Ningaloo arises from its accessibility. Apart from having to drive or fly into Exmouth, which may seem like landing on Mars given all the red rock, the Ningaloo is 3 meters off of the beach in some areas. Therefore, young children, Jurassic grandparents, and even people named, "Bob," with no arms or legs, can see the reef with ease.
Unfortunately, this blessing is also a curse considering humans are most likely to compromise the fragility of the reef. Careless snorkelers unable to control their flippers and their fingers contribute heavily to the reef's demise. Not to mention the effect of sunscreen on microscopic coral polyps.
However, the reef is not in dire straits. Rather, the shallows continue to be home to a variety of fishes including the black-tipped reef shark, blue-spotted sting ray, convict surgeon fish, goby
, and many more. Cephlapods like the common octopus
and the cuddlefish also call the reef home. As well do crustaceans like the painted crayfish (lobster) and the manta shrimp. Then, there's a variety of echinoderms like the blue starfish, the spiky purple urchin, and the lazy sea cucumber.
Despite the beauty found in the shallows the real gems of the reef lie just past its borders, beyond the breaking waves in the slightly deeper water. Essentially, deeper water means bigger animals, and while the friendly manta rays (2-3 m. wingspans) and the manatees are impressive, the real giants are the whales. So dense they cause a navigation hazard for passing boats, humpback and mink whales are by far the largest marine creatures on the Ningaloo. However, the whale shark, which is not a whale at all, definitely steals the real whales thunder.
I've left Spring and the crisp mountain air of Charlottesville, Virginia, in exchange for the sultry salt air of Summer on the Outer Banks in North Carolina. Now, the sweet scent of blooming Appalachian flowers has been replaced by the aromatic stinch of salt marsh. Green rolling hills have been traded for flat expanses of water and sand. Indeed, the Outer Banks is but a sandbar, constantly shifting under stress from raging oceans and relentless winds. However, storms have temporarily subsided and my new found island life is stress free and serene. Still waters, gentle winds, and sunny days deliver much needed clarity and calmness. Paradise Found!
More posts will follow... soon.
