Houtman Abrolhos

Thirty-seven miles off the coast of Western Australia, where crunchy old shipwreck lore mingles merrily with impossibly turquoise waters, lies an archipelago mysteriously free from the selfie-stick-toting hordes-welcome to the Abrolhos Islands snorkeling adventure. Here, coral gardens sprawl like Poseidon's psychedelic vegetable patch, and fish dart about with all the frenetic focus of New Yorkers navigating rush-hour traffic. Grab your fins and mask early-aim for morning dives when visibility's clear as gin and marine life is at its most vibrant and curious. Book ahead-a month or two should suffice-to ensure your spot aboard one of the small boats that make pilgrimages to this isolated slice of underwater Eden. Budget around $150-200 per person and pack sunscreen, drinking water, a healthy disregard for your comfort zones, and a waterproof camera, because if there isn't photographic proof, did you even commune with that smug-looking stingray? You'll find yourself drifting among breathtaking coral formations dating back millennia and the ghostly echoes of 17th-century Dutch shipwrecks, including the ill-fated Batavia, whose survivors famously devolved into mutiny and murder. After bobbing about for a few hours in this technicolor marine playground, you'll climb back aboard with salty hair, mild sunburn, and a deep sense of awe-plus at least one spectacular story guaranteed to impress strangers at cocktail parties for years to come.

You don't dive Batavia Reef for colorful coral and relaxing swims with Nemo-you plunge into these waters to commune intimately with history's dark side, shipwreck scandal, and swashbuckling treachery. Back in 1629, the Batavia-an ill-fated Dutch vessel bound for the spice-scented riches of Java-came to grief off the Western Australian coast, unleashing a sensational saga of mutiny, madness, and murder that'd make even Game of Thrones seem like a quiet Sunday tea party. Arrive early, ideally at sunrise, when the water clarity is pristine, the light ethereal, and the other divers still nursing hangovers ashore. Plan several weeks ahead for dive permits and guided trips, bring your wetsuit (the water can bite cold at depth), and stash away about $200-$300 to cover equipment rental and transport from Geraldton or nearby coastal outposts. Pack a waterproof camera and a healthy respect for underwater ghosts-the jagged remains beneath you tell a chilling tale of horror and desperation that still whispers through the currents. Ultimately, diving here might not fill your Instagram feed with pretty tropical fish, but how many other dive sites let you casually mention at your next dinner party: "Oh, did I mention I spent Saturday morning exploring a 17th-century Dutch murder scene?"

Climbing aboard a tiny aircraft designed for fewer passengers than you'd comfortably invite to dinner, you'll find yourself wondering briefly about life decisions before the plane lifts off from Geraldton-affectionately known as the gateway town that everyone drives through but rarely stops. Soon enough, though, skepticism dissolves into awe as the sprawling Coral Coast reveals itself below, a kaleidoscope of blues so surreal they put Photoshop presets to shame. You'll hover over the Abrolhos Islands, Australia's answer to the Galapagos-with fewer giant tortoises and more astonishing shipwreck tales, including the bloody spectacle of the ill-fated Batavia in 1629. Go early in the morning for the crisp clarity and impossibly perfect Instagram snaps; book at least a week ahead, because it's hard to spontaneously hop onto something smaller than your average suburban SUV. Budget around $300 per person, pack sunglasses, motion-sickness tablets if your stomach hasn't forgotten last night's seafood platter, and a newfound appreciation for solid ground. It's a flight that'll etch itself into memory, if not for the heart-achingly beautiful vistas, then certainly for the thrill of having risked your breakfast's integrity-providing a story that'll both impress and mildly alarm listeners for years to come.

If your idea of a good time involves stumbling through moonlit paths listening to unsettling tales of pirates, rogue colonists, and spirits who apparently don't appreciate having their eternal naps disturbed, then the Pigeon Island Ghost Tour is deliciously up your alley. Embarking after sunset-because horror, much like tequila, tastes best after dark-this nocturnal ramble through the crumbling barracks and shadowy fortifications is steeped in history and superstition. Plan ahead by booking a few nights early (the dead, surprisingly, have quite a fan club) and budget around $25 per mortal soul; bring comfy shoes, bug spray, a flashlight (mostly to avoid face-planting on historic cobblestones), and, crucially, a generous dose of skepticism or curiosity-your choice. Sure, maybe you'll finish the evening convinced the only truly terrifying thing about Pigeon Island is its aggressively persistent mosquitoes, but even so, you'll walk away with at least one hair-raising anecdote to impress your cynical friends, and perhaps a lingering suspicion that not all Caribbean adventures end with rum punch and sunshine.

When was the last time you tilted your neck skyward and felt genuinely insignificant? Forget those sanitized planetarium lectures-pack your gear and haul yourself to East Wallabi Island in the Abrolhos archipelago, where the celestial fireworks show hasn't been overshadowed by modern obsessions like WiFi or overpriced lattes. Historically notorious for shipwrecked Dutch sailors, the Abrolhos Islands now welcome intrepid modern adventurers eager to trade Instagram filters for the unfiltered splendor of the Milky Way. Arrive well before sunset to snag a prime campsite, pitched on what feels like the frontier where civilization gently fades into an extravagant celestial light show. Bring a good tent, bug spray, plenty of water, and some creature comforts like chocolate or whiskey-just don't get carried away and mistake a glowing satellite for an extraterrestrial visitor after your third dram. Plan your trip in advance-permits may be required, and budgeting around $150-$200 per person covers boat charters, supplies, and inevitable impulse buys like a new headlamp or that comfortingly useless star chart they sold you at the dock. And why go through all this trouble for a glimpse of the universe's infinite expanse? Because nothing beats sitting in the pitch-dark stillness at 2 a.m., hearing the soft murmur of the sea, and contemplating your cosmic insignificance beneath a canopy of stars so dazzlingly clear that, years from now, when someone casually mentions Orion's Belt, you'll smile knowingly and say, "Yeah, we've met."

Climbing aboard a sunset cruise around the Abrolhos Islands is a bit like stumbling into a nature documentary narrated by Hemingway after three rum cocktails-raw, wild, and absurdly cinematic. These islands, famously scrawled on maritime maps after the ill-fated 1629 Batavia shipwreck disaster-think Game of Thrones drama meets Lord of the Flies-are now best known for extravagant sunsets, curious marine life, and squadrons of irritatingly photogenic seabirds. Book at least a week or two ahead, set aside around $100-$150 per head, and opt for an evening departure to catch the horizon's theatrical color explosions and the wildlife's raucous twilight partying. Pack layers (the sea-breeze can nip at you like a disgruntled pelican) and a camera-preferably waterproof, just in case your fellow passengers get overexcited during dolphin sightings. Sure, it's picturesque, educational, and a solid Instagram flex, but even if your dolphin selfies blur and your bird photos disappoint, the bragging rights from cruising waters once scattered with pirate-style mutiny and epic shipwreck feuds are worth every wave-induced wobble.