An uninvited roam and plunge into the Wild Brumby mob, about the Snowy Mountains.
STORY AND PHOTOS BY MARLON QUINN
PART I
Freediving has taught me a lot of things about calm, relaxation, finding comfort in the discomfort, and being immersed in the wild.
Before freediving, I could never have imagined being within arm’s reach of wild Bottlenose Dolphins, Whales, and endangered Southern Bluefin Tuna schools, all submerged beneath the sea’s surface on a single breath in the brutish Bass Strait Southern Ocean waters.
As an adult I was mostly a trapped IT-Executive burning in a concrete architectural cesspit, and I had done everything to try and offset the stress by embarking on a million different side projects, part-time jobs – retail bikes, cycling coaching and race team directing, a family business in the music industry, rollerblade instructor, you name it – as well as travelling to far flung places in Asia, Europe, and India, even a stint living in the South of France in a 13th Century village.
Even so, I’d never really been in the wilds. I was still playing the safe world game.
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Until I embraced freediving, I hadn’t truly immersed in the depths of Nature. It’s the most uncontrollable environment you can play in, the Ocean. The effects of wind, tide, swell, currents, surface movement, reef structures, water visibility, water temperature, and navigating the stretches of ocean that change in an instant from peaceful calm to angry, threatening beast.
When we live in a modern world that keeps telling us we’re in control, that we have the power to influence every part of our lives – make choices about career, place of living, daily toils and circumstances – then head out into the ocean and see.
The only choices available are how you respond to the constantly changing and unpredictable nature of the sea.
They’re lessons that have prodded me to explore into the broader realms. Whether hiking or cycling in remote scrub and forests surrounded by 600 year old tall trees, or nordic skiing the backcountry amongst the snow gums of the Victorian High Country far from the familiar comforts of cafes, restaurants and lodge life.
By far though, freediving has taught me not just to immerse into Nature, but to become one with it.
When you’re 10 metres below the sea surface, swimming around on one breath, kilometres from the coast, and there surrounding you is hundreds of 35kg sized endangered Southern Bluefin Tuna swirling around, as if you’re the centrepiece of the carousel, how is it that both you and they can find peace in that moment together? How do they know you’re not a threat? How do you create a sensation of trust and knowing, without sharing a common language or behavioural cues that each transmits with conviction?
To establish in seconds, this interaction between hundreds of wild beasts, in their daily trials of protecting and strengthening their chance of survival against large toothy predators, and there you are, just this simple pink-looking human in a mask, snorkel, fins and boardshorts in a cold deep ocean, big blue water all around.
It’s the most magnificent thing. A true relationship of oneness with Nature. Not just visiting, but becoming another actor in the scene. Becoming embedded in the fabric of daily marine life. To embrace that immersion, acceptance, and connection, it becomes the most profound, yet actually really simple and most natural feeling of normal that you could ever dream.
So then, how does, or can this sensation translate to terrestrial life?
If we’re suspended in the depths of the ocean, in peace, in stillness, in the middle of one simple breath, can this poise be manifested in the big green of Earthly life?
The wild Brumbies of the Snowy Mountains, they’re considered just as unpredictable and unruly as the sleek and powerful Southern Bluefin Tuna of the temperate waters.
Advice is to not approach them, for they may become aggressive, kick, buck, or rear up, even charge without warning, particularly when protecting the herd or young foals.
PART II
The day was reaching its conclusion, the sky glowing more orange over the range, and the moon beginning to whiten more proudly.
Five or six wild Brumbies, slowly ambled in a general line, chomping their way on the grasses. Teeth gripped and pulled at the ground, tails sweeping softly back and forth.
The dark brown one, it noticed me first. Pausing slightly from its dinner, it turned its head towards me as I stood and observed them some 20 metres away.
In stillness, I returned gaze. The Brumby carried on with feeding and the others remained in afternoon bliss. Every few bites, they’d all take a few steps forward, making slow progress to the North.
From the distance, I paralleled their progress, lightly afoot, in the same direction. Making regular click noises with my tongue and cheeks to stay in audible contact whilst their chomping took their eyes off me, and their hinds occasionally turned my way.
The mottled white one, it loafed at the back of the mob, making the slowest progress and keeping the furthest distance.
The black one, the largest, it maintained the mob from the middle, roaming left and right, forward and back, to ensure they moved more as one. The enthusiastic young ones, lighter brown and mottled grey, when they ambled too far forward, the blacky would make its way to the front and use its position to usher them back or pause them in their stance without distraction.
The dark brown one appeared the most curious, veering often out of step, looking towards me, and slowly decreasing the distance between us.
Soon the zig zag would see us only separated by five metres or so.
We’d pause together, both sensing the air, the energy, each other’s Nature.
Big blacky would stomp his forward hoof. Maybe once. Sometimes twice. There’d be a forced snorted exhalation through the snout. Dark Brown would turn and resume the line.
The orange glow behind me entered a softer purple, as the half moon shone brighter. We continued in parallel, our paths only separated by 5-10 metres, all the while the wild horses continued their late afternoon ritual.
Occasionally Big Black would stomp again, but also bare teeth and snort evocatively, tail swooshing. I kept clicking my cheeks and tongue and wandering aside them.
We all came to pause. Three of the younger Brumbies kind of circled each other, and slowly gazed my way.
I stood in stillness, in side profile, with my head turned across my shoulder towards them.
Dark Brown took a few steps towards me, her two fellow friends in company, all facing my way.
More steps closer, Dark Brown kept coming. And closer still. In a slow occupation. I maintained my open stance, breathing softly and in a slow easy rhythm.
In front of me now, facing directly, one metre apart, Dark Brown and I were nose to nose, chest to chest. My hands were full, draped by my side, phone in one hand, camera in the left.
We locked eyes. She gently raised her head above mine, and lowered it.
We remained, and paused.
She stepped closer again. Now barely a foot apart.
She exhaled. And breathed in deeply, sensing me, smelling me, taking me in with all his senses.
And she stepped closer.
Her snout and nose brushed my chest. She tilted and slowly motioned her nose around my arms and chest. I could feel the exhalations upon my sternum, the warmth of the humid breath about my heart.
My slow breath matched hers, as we stood there, one foreign Being communicating effortlessly with the other, in silence.
I so badly wanted to stroke her snout, it was barely a hand width away. Those big eyes curiously engaging with mine. But my hands were all bound up with stuff. Techno modern stuff.
This incredible ease we found ourselves in. A knowing without knowing. An acceptance.
We stayed in that moment, until Big Black disturbed the pause, breaking the connection with a few snorts and bringing the herd back into line.
Dark Brown slowly turned to join the other two, and the three of them tight knit re-joined the procession.
We continued our meander in parallel. Big Black sauntered on, working to come between me and the trio.
I allowed my arc to veer a little further distant from the general direction, retreating to a moderate 10 metres distance.
The mob all paused. A couple of the younger ones turned to face each other neck to neck, and began preening and grooming each other. Teeth chattering away at each other’s coats, nibbling, scratching and brushing each other. Another couple found curiosity in stranger objects on the ground.
Big Black roamed, circling the herd, maintaining their loose formation.
Slow White at the rear, some 40 metres distant, totally engrossed in the grass, they were waiting.
The moon proudly illuminated us all.
Dark Brown and I gazed upon each other one more time, as I turned and retreated away.
Never the wilder.
— Living breath by breath in fluid movement outdoors.
Enhance Your Breathing
To enhance your breathing functionality and capacity, here are a few suggestions for ways to develop more easily right away:
1: Join me on a Beginner Freediving Course – (Link to Course Page)
1: Oxygen Advantage Online Breathing Course – (Link to Official Course Page)
2. Follow guided exercises for improved sleep, managing stress and anxiety via the OA App. (Link to Official App)
3. Join a 1-on-1 coaching session with me to savour the immersion into deeper presence. (Link to 1:1 Coaching Session)
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