Doris – It Takes a Village — Norfolk Island's Reef

Out on A Swim

‘Out on a swim’ is a coral reef blog that tells the stories of the characters who live under the waves and what has caught my eye when ‘out on a swim’ in the lagoons of Norfolk Island. It is also a record of the difficulties Norfolk Island’s reef faces, like many others around the world, as a result of the poor water quality that has been allowed to flow onto it.

This page shows the most recent blog posts. For the complete catalogue, visit the ‘Out on a swim index’ page.

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Transformed, Transformational

This morning marked the end of a four-month journey for Doris. From a sick, emaciated turtle with lesions across her shell, and covered with an unhealthy growth of algae, she has been transformed to glossy beautiful health. In a bittersweet moment for all of us who were there and who have been involved in her care, she was released into the waters off Blackbank, to the north of Norfolk Island, not far from Captain Cook’s monument today.

If you missed the beginning of this wonderful story, back in September 2022 Doris was plucked from Emily Bay on Norfolk Island looking sick and sad. You can read all about it in these two blog posts:

In Greek mythology, Doris is a sea goddess who represents the fertility of the ocean – the goddess of the rich fishing grounds found where fresh water mingles with the brine. It seemed an apt name for our little turtle found, as she was, where the freshwater stream mixes with the salty waters of Emily Bay, hiding under a coral ledge, sick, weak and underweight.

Over the last four months, Doris has gone from being quietly submissive, to gradually asserting herself. Her personality quickly became evident and surprised us all; she told us in no uncertain terms what she wanted and didn’t want. Like a child, she would reject her greens, ignore us when she had had enough company, but then love having her back scratched. As she got better she became decidedly cranky, pacing back and forth in a tank that seemed to shrink around her as her personality shone. The call of the wild asserted itself. It was time.

Not only has Doris been transformed to health by a hard-working group of amazing local volunteers, but, I believe, she has proved transformational for many of us, too. The privilege of, and responsibility for, being able to care for a wild animal and to see her blossom into health is an experience many of us will never forget as long as we live.

Doris has taught us all something. She has touched our lives, educated us, informed our opinions, made us all so much more convinced that we can’t let this happen again to another turtle, to other wildlife. She has touched our lives; especially, she has talked to our schoolchildren – our future environmental custodians. Doris has alerted us to a problem in our waters like nothing and no one else could. And for that we owe her a big debt of thanks.

This morning, Hannah and Trish cradled Doris for her last journey, aboard Dave Biggs’s boat to an area of water that we considered would be a good clean habitat for her. We headed out to Blackbank, where we paused while Luca readied himself to enter the water to film this special moment. The ocean breathing gently around us as we waited – the mood quiet, sombre.

September 2022

January 2023

As we soaked in the moment, wildlife warrior, and our resident bird expert Margaret Christian, reminded us of a song her daughter Kath King had written some 15 years ago, presciently about a turtle at Blackbank.

‘Let’s sing it’ said Nat Grube, an islander, Doris volunteer and film crew.

And she did.

It was spontaneous, unscripted, and one of the most beautiful moments of my life.

Hannah slid Doris over the side and back into the bosom of the ocean, her home. We’ll miss her, but as she swam towards Luca, our hearts sang, too. She’s back where she should be, and hopefully she will now find her way in the world and, with luck, mature and breed, doing her little bit for the world’s endangered population of green sea turtles (Chelonia mydas).

Mission accomplished.

And maybe, just maybe, I will be lucky enough to see her one day on one of my snorkels. I hope so. My camera will be ready.

Vital statistics

We believe Doris is around 10 years old.

Her curved carapace length is 48.5cm. And she weighs about 13.5 kg, a marked increase from when she arrived into our care at just shy of 9 kg.

Special thanks

They say it takes a village:

Nigel Greenup (National Parks), Hannah Taylor, Jenny Gildert (from the Cairns Turtle Rehabilitation Centre), Trish Le Mura, Candice the vet, Jamie Donaldson, all the Parks staff, Australian Marine Parks, Natalie Grube, Luca Fox, all the volunteers (so many of you, and such special people), and Dave Biggs. And, of course, every member of the Norfolk Island community who volunteered fish, greens, ointment, water tubs, courier services – and on and on it goes.

This really was a monumental effort for a small community. Thank you.

Hannah with Doris, just before release

Luca waiting to film Doris off Blackbank

October 28, 2026

When storms rearrange the reef

Sometimes the sea rearranges a reef in a matter of hours! In the third article of my six-part photographic series, I revisit corals broken, overturned or swept away by powerful swells and storm surges. Some disappeared altogether, while others found surprising ways to survive. Five photographic sequences reveal just how dramatically Norfolk Island's reef can change.

October 26, 2026

When the reef fights back – coral growth and recovery

Not every coral story ends badly! Among six years of underwater photographs are some wonderful examples of growth, survival and recovery. From corals that have grown spectacularly to others that have survived bleaching, breakage or even being turned upside down, this second article in my photographic series celebrates some of the reef's more encouraging stories.

October 24, 2026

The neighbours – six years of watching the same reef

When I began photographing Norfolk Island's reef in 2020, I simply recorded whatever caught my eye. Six years later, those photographs have become a record of individual corals and their changing fortunes – growth, competition, survival and loss. This is the first of six articles looking back at what I've seen, and sometimes what I wish I hadn't.

October 10, 2026

Pulling the rugosity from out of the reef

What do ‘rugosity’, structural complexity and channeling your inner fish have in common? Quite a lot, as it turns out. This week I’m looking at how all the lumps, bumps, branches, holes and ledges on a reef create habitat – with a brief detour into one of my long-standing tricks for navigating tertiary study: write down the jargon until it starts to make sense.

September 27, 2026

How does a sea slug smell?

It started with a close-up of a little Elysia and two rhinophores that looked like tiny rolled-up scrolls. Once I noticed them, I started going back through years of sea-slug photos and realised just how wildly different these sensory organs can be – ridged, rolled, curled, tubular and, in sea hares, distinctly rabbit-eared. So this week’s rabbit hole is all about how sea slugs ‘smell’ underwater, and why their noses come in so many different shapes.

September 19, 2026

The Elite Fleet sails in

Nearly six years ago, my very first blog post was about the strange blue and violet creatures that live at the ocean’s surface – a group I christened Norfolk Island’s ‘Elite Fleet’. Since then I’ve seen plenty of bluebottles and the occasional violet sea snail, but never a by-the-wind sailor. Until this morning. Velella velella is not a true jellyfish, but a colonial hydrozoan with a transparent sail that lets the wind help carry it across the ocean. So what exactly is this extraordinary little creature, how does it ‘sail’, and what connects it to the rest of the fleet?

September 18, 2026

In a nutshell – where I stand on the proposed Norfolk Island Marine Park

I support the proposed expansion of Norfolk Marine Park and its renaming as Norfolk Island Marine Park. There is much to welcome – strong offshore protection, no mining, and recognition of the importance of sustainable local fishing. But I also have some reservations. Why does Cascade need to be removed from the Marine Park at all? How will more than 430,000 km² actually be monitored and enforced? How do we make sure Norfolk people have a genuine role in management? And, above all, how do we ensure that the enormous new park does not draw attention away from the small, stressed reef immediately beside us?

September 13, 2026

No seagrass, but plenty of turtles

Norfolk Island does not have seagrass, although one of our most conspicuous green algae is often mistaken for it. Feather and grape Caulerpa can both form striking patches across the lagoon. I take a closer look at what Caulerpa actually is, why it is so easily confused with seagrass, and where our green turtles fit into the story.

September 6, 2026

Watching El Niño from Norfolk Island

El Niño is strengthening across the Pacific, but that does not tell us exactly what the coming months will bring to Norfolk Island. After a long wet spell, I am watching our rainfall and water supplies more closely again – and, underwater, keeping an eye on sea temperature, algae, coral recruits and the fish that turn up on the reef.

September 2, 2026

What the world’s reefs are telling Norfolk Island

Two major new coral reef reports carry a clear message for Norfolk Island: reefs can recover when pressures ease, but the time available for recovery is shrinking. Norfolk Islanders were raising concerns about water quality, runoff and the health of Emily and Slaughter Bays nearly forty years ago. Today we have much better science, a changing climate and a far clearer understanding of how closely the catchment and reef are connected. This article looks at what that means for water quality, long-term monitoring, dredging and how we manage Kingston from land to sea.