Sunshine Coast Whale Swim: Eye to Eye with Ocean Giants
- factokobi
- Aug 25
- 3 min read
Updated: Sep 4

Swell Places editor Kobi Facto set out with The Pressure Project to experience an unforgettable whale swim on the Sunshine Coast.
The annual humpback whale migration along Australia’s east coast is one of nature’s great spectacles – and on the Sunshine Coast, it’s impossible not to get caught up in it. From June to October, these gentle giants pass our shores in their tens of thousands, making the long journey from the icy Antarctic to the warm, tropical waters of Queensland.
As a Sunny Coaster, the migration weaves its way into daily life. From chatter at the café to spotting sprays from the headland, it’s a season that reminds you just how wild and alive our coastline really is.

For years, I’d watched the whale migration from land, but this winter, it was time to take the plunge.
Armed with wetsuits, snorkel gear, five girlfriends, and a mix of nerves and excitement, we joined freediver and marine educator Adam Sellars from The Pressure Project on a small-group whale swim departing Mooloolaba. With no more than six guests at a time, the experience promised intimacy and respect – and most importantly, a chance to meet whales on their own terms.
Adam reminded us that encounters aren’t guaranteed. The whales decide if and how they want to interact. Sometimes they’ll glide past, indifferent to human presence. Other times, if curiosity strikes, they’ll linger, circling and coming closer. “That unpredictability,” Adam explained, “is what makes every encounter unforgettable.”
With that in mind, we set off across the sea aboard the Ocean Rose. Cruising past Point Cartwright and Mudjimba Island, the Sunshine Coast stretched out behind us. Even before the whales appeared, the ocean gifted us turtles, flying fish, and dolphin sightings.
Then came the iconic spray. Within 30 minutes, a mother and calf revealed themselves. The mother lazily slapped the water with her fin, while the calf spy-hopped – raising its head above the surface, curious about us just as we were about them.

Keeping a respectful distance, we slipped quietly into the water. The ocean seemed to still. Then, out of the blue, they came.
The mother glided with slow, deliberate grace, pec slapping as if to announce their arrival. Beside her, the calf darted and twirled, as exuberant as a child at play. Within metres of us, the young whale slowed, rolling to one side as if peering straight into our masks. For a moment, time suspended. This giant baby floated beside us, curious and gentle, before zooming in a burst of energy and looping back again – all under the watchful eye of mum.

The sight of their immense bodies – bellies, fins, tails – passing so close left us breathless. The girls surfaced squealing and laughing, overwhelmed with the wonder of it all.
We were lucky enough to experience not one but two swims that afternoon, each encounter etching itself into memory. On the ride back to Mooloolaba, the sun began to dip behind the hinterland, painting the sky in warm pinks and oranges. We sat in quiet awe, salt still on our skin, replaying the magic.

Swimming with humpbacks isn’t something you tick off a list. It’s something that stays with you – a reminder of our smallness in the vast blue, and the privilege of sharing space, however briefly, with the giants who call it home.
Back on land, I realised that watching whales will never feel quite the same again. Thanks to The Pressure Project, I now carry with me the memory of seeing those dark eyes hold my gaze – a fleeting exchange in the magic of the migration.
Learn more at www.thepressureproject.com.au.
