I often do big swims like this to the outer Ningaloo Reef to explore new underwater kingdoms in the hope of seeing marine life. It was the end of May, a magical time of year in North Western Australia when you never know what you might see. I was out the back with my two work colleagues, no boat just the three of us and the water. All of a sudden we saw a blow about 100m in the distance, one of the girls turned to me and said, “was that a whale?” We were all new to the area and had been told that the whale season was still about a month away. The next thing I knew one of the girls had grabbed my leg and as I looked in the direction that she was pointing I saw two huge figures emerge from the blue water – a humpback whale and her calf. The three of us were shoulder to shoulder as the two whales circled us, the mother turning on her side and eyeballing us three strange creatures. The calf was playful and zipped around, while its mother was a little more cautious. After some time, she decided to pull her baby in and shuffled the calf onto her back for protection. After one last circle the two whales continued on their journey north to warmer waters on their annual migration, leaving us behind still floating in the water and absolutely gobsmacked.

This was one of my fondest memories of the Ningaloo Reef, which has been my home for the past three years. I work here as a photographer and presenter working with Ningaloo Discovery and National Geographic Australia. The past three years have been an absolute whirlwind for me but I’m going to bring it back to where my ocean mission started.

I have always had a love for the ocean, and after finishing my studies at the University of Western Australia I decided I wanted to move to Ningaloo. This was a place I visited often with my family as a kid and it blew my mind. I can remember the first time I went snorkelling in Coral Bay taking that first dunk with my mask and snorkel aged three and yelling: “Mum, did you see what was down there?!”

A few years ago I was searching for jobs in the area and got one as a housekeeper in the Cape Range National Park at an eco-lodge called Sal Salis. Moving was a massive change. I was working for two magazines and as a function host in Perth and traded it all in for scrubbing loos in a place surrounded the endless red dirt. I remember sitting on the beach after work on the first day, thinking to myself: “what have I done”. I felt like I was starting from the bottom all over again and was wondering if I should just pack up and leave, when I looked out at the water. There was a turtle looking at me, sitting on the shoreline – it must have swum in when I wasn’t watching. Somehow, seeing this turtle changed my mindset in an instant. I saw it as a sign that I was right where I was meant to be. The turtle probably had no idea what an impact it had on me, but I forever thank this creature because from that point my life began to change.