Highly recommended by my dive captain and colleagues, the S.S. Yongala was a dive site I had long wanted to visit. With late October being the low season for diving in Cairns, I finally had the chance to make the trip.
Me and the Yongala
About the S.S. Yongala — A True Shipwreck
The S.S. Yongala is a genuine shipwreck from a real maritime disaster — not an artificial reef deliberately sunk for divers.
The story begins one year before the sinking of the Titanic. On 20 March 1911, the Yongala docked in Brisbane, where most of her passengers disembarked. Only a handful of new passengers boarded to continue along the Queensland Coast. On 23 March, the Yongala arrived in Mackay and, after taking on and offloading passengers and cargo, set sail northward for Townsville carrying 49 passengers, 73 crew members, and 617 tonnes of cargo. Five hours later, the lighthouse keeper at Dent Island Light spotted the Yongala heading in the direction of Whitsunday Island.
That was the last time anyone saw the Yongala intact.
Shortly after the Yongala left Mackay, a signal station received a telegraph warning of a tropical cyclone between Mackay and Townsville. Ships still berthed in Mackay saw the warning flags, and some vessels equipped with radio also received the message. Tragically, the Yongala was already too far from shore to spot the warning flags — and she had not yet been fitted with a radio transmitter.
At the time, the world had no idea what had happened to the Yongala, nor whether she had indeed sunk.
It was not until 1958 that a wreck was located south of Townsville. A barnacle-encrusted safe was raised from the site, and through its model number and serial number, the wreck was confirmed to be the Yongala.
It is believed that the Yongala was overwhelmed by the tropical cyclone and sank on 24 March 1911, taking 122 lives with her.
(The information above is translated from Wikipedia — if you'd like to read the full story, it's well worth looking up.)
Diving the Yongala
The check-in counter
The dive shop my colleague and I visited is called Yongala Dive.
Since we brought our own gear, we decided to rent a car — the drive from our base in Cairns takes about five hours. Getting there by public transport takes roughly the same time, but lugging equipment from bus to bus is a real headache. I strongly recommend rounding up a few friends and driving yourselves.
Address: 56 Narrah St, Alva QLD 4807
Phone: (07) 47831519
Yongala Dive has dormitory rooms available. My Korean instructor colleague, a Hong Kong Divemaster, and I decided to do a two-day, four-dive itinerary here (yes, you read that right — four dives at the same site). The standard programme is two dives per day, with the price including breakfast and a BBQ lunch. After breakfast each morning, divers check in, prepare their gear, and check the oxygen percentage in their nitrox tanks. Once everything is ready, everyone gathers at the BBQ area for a dive briefing. Divers who have booked a dive guide meet their guide at this point. The operation runs smoothly, and everyone knows exactly what to do next.
After the briefing, the shop's staff shuttle everyone down to the beach. All divers pile onto the boat, and after a roughly 30-minute ride, you arrive at the Yongala site.
The BBQ area
The gear area
The site map used for the briefing
Day One
My two colleagues and I decided to use nitrox tanks for all four dives. On the very first dive, we hit a powerful current the moment we entered the water. A current line tied to the stern of the boat ran along the anchor line all the way down to the mooring block beside the Yongala. On the descent, we had to pull ourselves hand-over-hand along the line in a streamlined, near-horizontal position — like a flag in a strong wind — all the way to the wreck. Visibility at the Yongala was around 10 to 15 m. My first glimpse of the ship made me gasp involuntarily through my regulator. The entire surface of the Yongala was blanketed by tens of thousands of glassfish, flowing in perfect unison along the shape of the hull and with the direction of the current. More precisely, we could barely see the hull at all — fish and coral had colonised every inch of the wreck. Only by fanning the water to scatter the school could you catch a glimpse of the steel beneath.
The fish were so dense the hull was nearly invisible
On the first dive, we followed the standard practice of heading into the current first. Water temperature was around 25°C. We descended to about 28 m, then kicked from the bow toward the stern — the Yongala is approximately 110 m long. We turned back before reaching the stern on that first dive; the current was simply too strong. For the second half of the dive, we stayed near the bow area. Both of my dive buddies are keen photographers, so we spent a good while hunting for the perfect shot.
For the second dive, after chatting with the crew, we decided to change our plan and drift with the current first. Since all three of us held Divemaster or instructor ratings, and we had discussed the plan with the crew beforehand, we felt confident doing this (if you're thinking of doing something similar, have a conversation with the crew about your intended plan). The crew gave us a quick reminder of a few key points: after reaching the stern, don't go past the hull — swim up and around the port side, then fight the current back toward the bow. The return would have a strong current, but staying close to the hull would help.
On the second dive, we dropped in and happily began drift diving. I sat back and let the current carry me down to the stern, fin-kicking occasionally to scatter the glassfish along the way. That's when I spotted a Guitar Shark resting inside the hull. By the time I tried to signal my buddies, the current had already carried them a little ahead.
Once we reached the stern, we started kicking hard back toward the bow. For the first few seconds I wasn't moving forward at all — but pressing my body closer to the hull, I found I could make headway. Around midship, I was studying what looked like the funnel when a fellow diver from behind grabbed my fin and pointed upward. I looked up: a group of Stingrays! I later asked the crew, who told me they were Small-eyed Rays. The Hong Kong Divemaster described them as looking like a migration of pancakes drifting overhead — a description that was, honestly, spot-on.
The Small-eyed Rays, like a parade of pancakes
Both dives on day one ran to about 45 minutes — noteworthy given that most other divers on the boat were back on board within 25 to 35 minutes, showing just how much the current affected air consumption. All three of us were chasing our no-decompression limits right up to our ascent, which is why I strongly recommend using nitrox tanks here.
After finishing the first day of diving and returning to the dive shop, the shop's Divemaster fired up the BBQ for lunch. Divers staying for the second day relaxed and sorted through their photos in preparation for the next day's dives.
Day Two
The second day's programme was essentially the same as the first, except the boat moored at the stern this time. On the first dive, we kicked back up to the bow — my Korean dive buddy wanted photographs of the bow section. This dive we spent more time closely examining the coral and marine life encrusting the hull. A few lazy Humphead Wrasse drifted past in striking contrast to our own effortful battle against the current.
A leisurely Humphead Wrasse
On the second dive, something rather harrowing happened. The Korean instructor entered the water first and held the line, waiting for us. When it was my turn to do a back-roll entry, I lost my grip on the current line. By the time I realised what had happened, the current had already swept me past the mooring line. The correct response at that point would have been to descend immediately, grab the mooring line, and wait for my buddies — but I hesitated. The current carried me further and further away; I estimated I was already 50 m or more from the boat, and the distance was still growing. At that point I did something quite foolish — something that still makes me cringe when I think about it late at night. My instinct told me that descending would reduce the effect of the current. I started to go down, thinking I could fight my way back. That might work at some dive sites, but at the Yongala, in open water with no surrounding reef, the current is just as strong at depth. By descending, I made it impossible for the crew trying to come and retrieve me to see where I was — and they couldn't move the boat without risk.
Every time I replay this incident in my mind, I'm reminded that even as a certified instructor, there is still a long way to go in terms of accumulated experience. Before I left for Australia, a seasoned Taiwanese diving professional once told me: "In my view, a dive instructor needs at least 200 dives of real experience — and not 200 dives at the same site racking up cylinders. It means diving in different environments and at different sites, building up the experience to handle crises when they arise." I kept those words in my heart from the moment I heard them, and it wasn't until this incident that they truly sank in."
After the crew retrieved me and I was back on the boat, my two buddies continued their dive — and down below, they found the Guitar Shark I had spotted the day before.
The Hong Kong Divemaster with the Guitar Shark
Wreck Diving — Final Thoughts
If you're living in Australia, diving the Yongala is absolutely worth adding to your list. The experience of diving in such a powerful current is completely different from diving the Great Barrier Reef. One important note: although this is a wreck dive, the Yongala is now over a century old. For safety reasons and out of respect for those who perished, divers are strictly prohibited from entering the interior of the wreck. Also, instructors and Divemasters working in Australia can present a payslip for a discount on the programme fee.
About the Photos
Most of the photos in this article were provided by Korean instructor Happillar. The camera used was an Olympus TG5. If you'd like to see more of his work, check out his Instagram account happillar_kyeongjoo — follows and comments are very welcome (he'll be thrilled).
Related reading:
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Swimming with Dwarf Minke Whales on the Great Barrier Reef — A Dream Australian Voyage
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Looking for Purpose? Try an Unforgettable Working Holiday Dive Certification in Australia!
(Cover image source: wikidata)
