As long as people have been visiting the Great Barrier Reef, they've been obsessed with it.
Under the shimmering turquoise waters of Australia's east coast is a labyrinth of alien-like formations pulsing with life.
Just like the tentacles of its polyps, the Great Barrier Reef has lured humans into its realms for centuries.
These illustrations look like cartoons, but are actually from one of the earliest in-depth studies of the reef, published more than 130 years ago by marine biologist William Saville-Kent.
It was meant to be a scientific record, but it is so much more.
Contained within its pages is a passion and exuberance that capture the magic of the largest living structure on Earth, written at a time before it became a bucket-list item for adventurers across the globe.
It offers a glimpse into the enduring enchantment of the world below the surface, and how it has become such a powerful symbol in Australia today.
Hidden away in a quiet shack in Bloomfield, on the edge of the Daintree Rainforest in Far North Queensland, is a first-edition copy of the 1894 tome, The Great Barrier Reef of Australia; Its Products and Potentialities.
It's the prized possession of Billy Dunn.
"I love the book, I love the fact that he's put so much emotion into it. Not only did he study it, write about it, but he was very passionate about it," he says.
The battered book tells of the challenges in Billy's own life.
In 2023, Tropical Cyclone Jasper made landfall over his community and the lingering storm system dumped metres of rain over the region. The Bloomfield River burst its banks, swallowing Billy's home and almost taking his life.
The torrents of water, which rose above the roof of his house, carried away almost all of his belongings.
So when he found the book in the back seat of his car, caked in mud and waterlogged, yet somehow still legible, it felt like no small miracle.
"I think it was meant for me," Dunn says.
Saville-Kent left his life in the UK behind in 1884 and travelled halfway around the world to work across Australia's fisheries industry. His book was dedicated to investigating the economic potential of the reef, and increasing public awareness of the place he'd long dreamed of seeing.
But to its readers, it was clear he'd become spellbound by the "fairy land of fact".
Subsequent reviews said it "did more for those who have never had the good fortune to visit a reef than all the descriptions of former writers", capturing the public's imagination.
For Billy Dunn, this is true even today.
"I think that's probably the big thing about visiting a reef is your emotions will get stirred up. Hopefully in a good way. It's intellectual and emotional," he says.
The reef has been Billy's life for more than 50 years. He scales its vast network, spanning over 2,500 kilometres, as a commercial fisherman.
While this is how he's made his living, the book speaks to the depths of emotion he feels for the reef.
"It's a beautiful workplace. I've been very lucky, really," he says.
But the life Billy leads on the reef is far from the idyllic image of gentle waves and soft sand.
It’s raw. It’s demanding. It’s relentless.
He spends long weeks out at sea, reeling in coral trout by hand from dawn until dusk in the blistering sun, whilst living in close quarters with the rest of the crew.
"You feel like you almost have to be a psychologist, sometimes," he jokes.
It's a life he wouldn't trade.
Out of this world, never more in it
Millions of people are drawn to the reef every year, just like Billy, enthralled as much by its beauty as its mystery. This magnetism is evident in the growth of towns that sit at its shoreline.
In 1960, the population of Port Douglas was down to just 100 people — affected by the closure of the sugar wharf.
Today, it's a bustling tourist hub, where visitors flock to catch a glimpse of the reef's magic.
Ancient tropical rainforests border the town. But its main drawcard is up to an hour and a half boat ride away, where you can see the reef at its most pristine.
As a packed tour boat heads toward the outer reef, white caps and grey skies cloud what perhaps many have been led to expect from the glossy brochures.
Staff methodically stand beside passengers, armed with vomit bags, as the swell picks up.
Even still, anticipation builds. A buzz of excitement vibrates across the deck.
The Great Barrier Reef gets its name in part because of its size.
It covers an area larger than New Zealand — so big it can be seen from space.
The other half of its name comes from what it does — acting as a barrier between the rough open ocean, and the coast.
Out on the reef, the reality of this sets in for some. The excitement of catching a glimpse of what lies below competes with riding out the rough waves above.
Once they plunge into the water, that fear fades almost instantly.
"It looks chaotic at the top," Amy Kok says after seeing the reef for the first time.
"But when you go underneath the water everything is so peaceful and calm."
The words people use to describe the reef are telling, almost like there is suddenly a shared language.
Words like "extraterrestrial", "jewel-like" and "magical" echo those used by Saville-Kent over a century ago.
But beyond that, its lure can be hard to explain. Even those who've spent a lifetime on the reef struggle to describe it.
Perhaps that's what makes discussions about its future so personal for so many, as the reef becomes a symbol for the impacts of climate change.
On the boat, this fragility is clearly on people's minds. An American couple talks about how they're coming to the reef "while it's still here".
Someone else gets out of the water asking what the glowing coral means. Others are surprised to see so much colour left, despite what they've heard.
It's something Jenny and John Edmondson, who operate reef tours, have become familiar with on their trips.
This is a bittersweet part of the job.
"Thereef is incredibly patchy and as a tourism operator we obviously want to take people to the really good bits. But even within the good bits you can show bits where there's been some damage like some coral bleaching," John says.
"So we really try to get the balance where we show people the best, and why the reef should be protected and why people love it, but at the same time examples of what damage can do."
The couple are among those whose lives have fallen under the reef's spell. Growing up in the UK, the two marine biologists were lured to Australia by the reef, and have been in Port Douglas ever since.
"You go through phases in your life where you enjoy something, and then you get over it, but we have been doing this for a long time and still hasn't failed yet so I don't think it will," Jenny says.
"And it's completely wild. How many places can you go on land where it looks exactly the same as it did hundreds and hundreds of years ago?" John adds.
Climate change is widely agreed to be the reef's biggest ongoing threats, alongside other more local challenges like land-based pollution, pests, over fishing and coastal development.
As scientists, Jenny and John are all too aware of them. But they also marvel at how well it has managed to withstand those pressures so far.
"We are really heartened by the amount of recovery we've had at these places, which we just didn't think would recover after the bleaching event in 2016 and 2017," John said.
"That doesn't diminish what we think the threats are, it just means that I think there's still a lot of hope.
"And there is still a lot of time if the actions are taken to look after the sites, protect the sites and to do as much as possible about limiting greenhouse gas emissions."
The bleaching events and damage to the coral pierce the illusion that this place is untouched by humans — something Billy Dunn is keenly aware of, too.
"It can be an emotional roller-coaster," he says.
But despite the challenges, the pull of the reef is still strong even after 50 years of working its waters.
Just like the reef itself, Saville-Kent's book captures both the scientific and the surreal.This is one of Billy’s favourite aspects of it.
There’s a section of the book that always catches his attention.
"Have you seen the story about the sea monster?" he says.
Known as the 'moha-moha', the book details the story of a giant sea serpent with glossy skin on its long head and neck, "feet like an alligator", a dome-shaped shell and a "fish-like" tail.
Eight people, including a police man, claim to have seen it around the same time.
"Take it as you wish, I don’t know," Billy laughs.
"But people have seen some different, weird stuff out there."
Ultimately, it's the fact that the book serves as a time capsule that Billy appreciates the most.
"Now we can go back and compare the reef to how it was in 1896 to how it was today," he says.
"It's been my workplace for 50 years. And we all feel a sense of ownership in a way, we're out there playing with it and working on it all the time.
"We'd like to think of ourselves as guardians, stewards of the reef, and protect it as best we can."
More than 40 years ago, the Barrier Reef was listed as a world heritage area, meaning it belongs to everyone, no matter where they are located.
It's a place that has evolved over millennia.
At the mercy of weather events and faced with other ongoing threats, the reef will no doubt change again.
But it's likely the wild place will still be pulling people in for reasons they can't quite explain
Credits:
- Reporting: Tyne Logan
- Photography and videography: Chris Lewis
- Illustrations: Emma Machan
- Production and editing: Tim Leslie and Fran Rimrod
Posted, updated
