By Liam Mannix
Once a month, on a Saturday morning, the seagulls of Williamstown beach pause their cawing and fighting and chip-hunting to take in a strange sight.
A large group of women wearing black wetsuits, thick goggles and snorkels clamber down some narrow concrete stairs that cut through the seawall before hurling themselves into the surf.
Snorkelling guide Marlon Quinn takes people out to explore the Great Southern Reef.Credit: Jason South
They call themselves the Masked Jellies. During the long COVID-19 lockdowns, they discovered this part of Port Phillip Bay is home to some extraordinary snorkelling spots, including the Jawbone Marine Sanctuary.
Sandy Webb was one of the first in the group to take a snorkel to the bay. “I felt a teeny bit embarrassed.” But other women saw what she was doing – and when they got in the water, they soon saw what she was seeing.
“Their enthusiasm is just mind-boggling,” said Webb, who has published a book on Jawbone.
From the stairs, you can swim about half a kilometre into Jawbone Bay itself, which surrounds a rocky reef that is full of life. Beds of seagrass and algae part to reveal pipefish and seahorses, colourful sponges and bottom-dwelling blennies.
Shivering through a long dark winter, many Melburnians imagine the warm, tropical waters of the Great Barrier Reef when they think of snorkelling. But they live on the shores of the largest enclosed body of water in the southern hemisphere.
“We’re the lucky ones,” said Marlon Quinn, a snorkelling guide who runs WaterMaarq Tours. “Port Phillip Bay is really an inland sea … You can step into Ricketts Point, Williamstown, Mornington, and most days you can see some stuff if you just pop your head underwater.”
We have a reef, too, just off the bay: the always-overlooked Great Southern Reef. It’s full of sponges, crustaceans and starfish and home to the weedy seadragon – Victoria’s marine emblem.
“You can definitely see cool stuff in very shallow water because the reef is very accessible,” Quinn said.
The weedy seadragon is Victoria’s marine emblem.Credit: Andrew Newton
Quinn found snorkelling by accident. In a past life, he worked as an IT executive. After receiving a redundancy and needing to clear his head, he took a snorkel down to Brighton Beach – and almost immediately came face-to-face with an eagle ray.
He panicked and fled the water. But afterwards, he was left with a deep desire to go back – to work on becoming relaxed in the water. That’s the art of snorkelling, he says: just floating, watching, allowing life to come to you.
“It teaches you that sometimes life is busy, and sometimes it’s quiet,” he said. “It changed my life, really.”
Close to the city, Quinn recommends Black Rock and the nearby Ricketts Point Marine Sanctuary, where you can see snapper and banjo sharks.
On Quinn’s first dive, he came face-to-face with an eagle ray at Brighton Beach.Credit: Jason South
Piers at Blairgowrie or Rye, on the peninsula, both offer excellent snorkelling thanks to human intervention – the pylons create rich underwater habitats.
Ben Reddy, a dive instructor with Snorkel and Dive Safari Altona Beach, recommends the spot, where you can see puffer fish, globefish, leatherjackets and octopus.
Reddy’s secret: strap on a wetsuit and go at night. “That’s when the weird things come out. Bobtail squid, different kinds of nudibranchs.” Another other key tip: pay attention to the wind.
A bobtail squid at the Jawbone Marine Sanctuary off Williamstown.Credit: Julian Finn/Museums Victoria
If it’s blowing onshore, you’ll get more chop, more whitecaps. “It’s going to mess with the visibility,” Reddy said. And you don’t need expensive gear. Unlike scuba, snorkelling is truly egalitarian.
“Just go to a cheap department store, grab a mask, snorkel, maybe some fins, and just have a quick look – even for 10 minutes in your bathers,” Quinn said. “There’s heaps of cool stuff to see, you’ve just got to get out there.”
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