I swam as hard as I could, fins churning and arms flailing, when my guide shouted for me to stop paddling and look down.

Out of breath, I adjusted my snorkel and gazed into the impossibly blue depths.

There it was: a creature of myth and majesty—a whale shark, weighing an estimated seventeen thousand pounds, its skin patterned like a starry night.

The moment was the culmination of a lifelong dream—and it was happening off the coast of Western Australia.

Every year, between March and August, the gentle giant of the seas migrates to the warm waters of the Ningaloo Reef, drawn by the spawning of more than two hundred species of coral and the plankton-rich currents that follow.

Between May and June in particular, snorkellers stand the best chance of witnessing these magnificent animals feeding in the wild.

Some visitors stay until July to also encounter manta rays and migrating humpback whales in the celebrated “big three” marine attractions.

I travelled from Colorado, navigated nearly thirty hours of travel via the vibrant city of Perth, and arrived on Australia’s remote north-west coast.

The reward: white-sand beaches, ocean so clear you can see the reef structure from the surface, wild dolphin encounters, hiking trails through arid scrub and reef, and road trips with minimal crowds.

I stayed at a modern waterfront hotel overlooking the Swan River, indulged in fresh Exmouth prawns and a perfectly grilled menu of local produce, before setting off for the ocean.

My first full day found me on Rottnest Island, cycling past pink salt lakes and scrubby gum trees, snorkeling into the reef, and meeting the island’s famously photogenic quokkas.

Then I ventured north via tiny regional airport to a dolphin-loved resort.

After a sunset dinner, I boarded a bus to Dirk Hartog Island in the Indian Ocean habitats of turtle-nesting and sea-bird colonies.

There, I kayaked, hiked fossil grounds and witnessed a spouting humpback and circling manta rays.

But the pinnacle came on a dive trip out of Exmouth to the Ningaloo Reef.

I plunged into two tank dives among vibrant coral stacks and reef sharks, but it was the snorkelling session that left me breathless.

Our spotter plane located a whale shark and we followed the boat into pristine waters.

Suddenly I was swimming beside an animal whose eye matched the size of my head, whose placid movements belied decades of ocean voyages.

The rules here are strict: no touching, stay at least three metres away, markedly smaller groups allowed in the water and no luring of animals.

It underscores a key difference: this is respectful wildlife tourism, not spectacle.

After the dive I sampled the local food scene, including a Margherita pizza paired with house-made ginger beer at a lively brewery near Exmouth.

The next morning brought an early start for another snorkel session, a star-filled night under the outback skies in a remote eco-lodge, and the sense of something rare and profound.

The region calls itself “where red earth meets the turquoise sea,” and that poetic image holds true as we drove into Cape Range National Park, over brick-red termite mounds and wind-whipped gum trees, beside sculpted limestone cliffs and shimmering water.

At each stop I saw more: turtle shells, eagle-rays, the faint outline of reef sharks, and the pure space of wilderness that makes Australia’s west coast so unique.

Swimming with the world’s largest fish in its natural, respectful setting left me humbled and awed.

In a place this remote yet carefully managed, I discovered not just wildlife, but a deeper stillness.

As the whale shark glided into open water and vanished into the blue, I realised the memory it gave would stay far longer than the journey itself.