Winter snorkeling under the ice in the Snowy Mountains with Brett Smith

A steady stream of cars, their headlights penetrating through the early morning gloom stretch like a conga line of fireflies heading higher into snowfields. Car load after car load of ski bunnies are taking advantage of the record-breaking spring snow falls earlier this week.

But I haven't bunkered down at this windswept car park to hit the slopes. In fact, I don't even have any skis with me.

I'm actually about to meet Brett Smith, Australia's only winter trout snorkeller. Don't worry, if you've never associated the word 'snorkel' with a Snowy Mountains winter, or a summer for that matter, you're not alone — until recently, neither did your akubra-clad columnist.

Regular readers may recall Smith as the dedicated high country photographer who after countless failed attempts eventually captured vision of a giant trout in his dam (Moonbah Monster, 3 June . Well, when, at the time Smith told me he also enjoyed diving in the frozen lakes and rivers of the snowies, I thought he was having a lend of me. Wouldn't you?

Dismissing his claims as just another fanciful fishermen's tale, I didn't even think twice in agreeing to join him on his next 'supposed' ice dive. So imagine the surprise when earlier this week I received a call from Smith who excitedly advised me "conditions are finally right for an ice dive".

Still huddled by the yowie mobile, I wonder how Smith will react when he discovers that although he reminded me several times me to bring my own drysuit (for the uninitiated a waterproof rubber suit worn for water sports), I purposefully left it back in Canberra. There's no way I'm getting in the water. Absolutely no way. I'm a human, not a polar bear.

He's late, and just as I begin to think it could be an elaborate wind-up after all, with snow flurries partly obscuring my vision through the windscreen, a 4WD dual cab ute finally draws alongside of me. It's has to be Smith, who else would pull-up with a tray full of snorkelling and dive equipment?

With snowflakes clinging to his scruffy beard, Smith looks like a cross between Grizzly Adams and Santa Claus. When I conjure up enough courage to tell Smith that unfortunately I couldn't find my drysuit, explaining "it must have been misplaced when we cleaned out the garage last year", he kindly offers to drive back down to Jindabyne and hire one for me. Bugger.

Just as I'm about to jump in his ute for the trip back down the mountain, snow starts to fall heavier. "Actually if we want to beat the blizzard, we won't have time to hire you some gear," he cautions, adding "you'll have to settle for taking photos from the shore."

Phew, it's like all my Christmases have come at once.

It doesn't take Smith long to squeeze into his drysuit. In fact, he has it zipped up quicker than the time I take to layer-up with extra thermals, jackets, mittens and gloves.

With Smith waddling toward the lake in his over-sized flippers, your beanie-clad (yes, it's even too cold for the akubra) columnist tries to keep up, slogging through the snow like a Sumo wrestler.

At the end of the short track Smith hollers "I may need the chain saw," pointing at the surface of lake which is frozen solid in parts. Fortunately, he eventually finds an appropriate entry point and splashes into the freezing water.

As gusts of icy air buffet my jackets (yes, all three of them), Smith duck dives as if he's on some tropical coral atoll. And for Smith this is paradise. "It's just me and the fish down there," he gasps while surfacing and temporarily plucking the snorkel out of his mouth, adding "it's another world down there!"

As he heads back under, I remove my thumb from my gloves and press it tightly on my thermometer to try and get the mercury to budge. It doesn't. With the summit howling and the weather closing in around us, Smith calls it a day. It's time to retrace our steps to the safety (and warmth) of the vehicles.

Later, while thawing out in a Jindabyne café and ogling at Smith's photos from his alpine diving adventures it really does look like I've missed –out on an underwater Garden of Eden.

Although he only glimpsed a handful of trout today (the trout become somewhat dormant in very low water temperatures), Smith reveals that several years ago during one of his first dives in the snowies he saw "over 300 trout in one swimming hole."

"And that was at a time when all the experts were complaining that the trout had disappeared," he explains, adding "you just don't know what's down there till you look".

"You also learn about their behaviour" he says, adding "trout are renowned for being easily spooked with many a fisher crawling along the grass to sneak up to their favourite summer fishing spots, but at night time under the water you can actually pat them."

Smith reveals that it's not just trout, an introduced species, that he encounters underwater but also a range of native critters including eels and a platypus. "I just felt something hit my fins and then looked down to see him swimming away," reveals Smith about his chance encounter with a platypus during a recent night dive.

I attempt to draw comparisons with Smith's icy dives to bog snorkelling (that bizarre Welsh past time of swimming along a water-filled trench cut through a peat bog) but Smith won't have any of it.

"I'm snorkelling from a scientific point of view and a curiosity of what's happening in a world that's not that well-known." he responds, adding "so many snorkelers and divers explore the ocean but hardly anyone dives in freshwater."

"As to the cold, for that first sixty seconds you're hyperventilating but after that sure it's cold, not unbearable," he deadpans, before adding, "you should come back before the season ends, there's nothing like diving under the ice."

"Sure thing, I can't wait," I respond enthusiastically.

However, I suspect it won't be until mid-February when the water temperature will be about 20 degrees higher than it is now, that I discover just where my 'misplaced' drysuit is.

Warning: Swimming in cold or icy water should only be attempted by trained professionals and under controlled conditions.

Carolyn Anderson of Malua Bay "snapped this reindeer type beast rising out of the ground at the Warri Reserve on the Shoalhaven River a few years ago whilst travelling to the coast on the Kings Highway." Unfortunately when I visited the reserve a few weeks ago the reindeer had disappeared," laments Anderson, adding "perhaps it's gone back to its mythical home." It can't just disappear, can it? I hope it didn't end up as firewood for campers. Someone must know.

It's that time of year when, if you are prepared to drive for few hours, you can both ski (or snorkel!) in the mountains in the morning and enjoy a warm sunny afternoon at the south coast on the same day.

To celebrate spring, the Atlas of Life in the Coastal Wilderness have just announced details of 'Wild Eye' their 2017 photography competition.

The community-based environmental organisation which encourages understanding of the unique, coastal wilderness on our south coast is inviting everyone "who has taken an interesting photo of something in nature, be it a frog or a fungi, a whale or a beetle or an orchid," to submit their entries to their website: www.atlasoflife.org.au There are fourteen categories including two new junior categories. Entries close 23 September.

First prize is two nights' accommodation in a luxurious safari tent at Tanja Lagoon Camp — one of this column's favourite south coast nature hideaways (Glamping at Tanja Lagoon, 2 June 2014 ).

This year's entrants will be hard-pressed beating the 2016 winning shot of a Bar-tailed Godwit juggling a crab, snapped by nature-lover, Leo Berzins, formerly of Queanbeyan and now of Merimbula.

Bar-tailed Godwits are the most abundant of the migratory shorebird species that visit Merimbula and are commonly seen at low tide in Merimbula Lake, busily feeding along the exposed sand flats. Any shutterbugs attempting to replicate Berzins' beautiful shot should heed his advice. "They are wary of people approaching, but a patient photographer lying flat on the wet sand can get some close shots of the Godwits feeding," he recommends, adding "soldier crabs are plentiful and seem to be a popular menu item for them."

Meanwhile, Georgia Poyner of Dalmeny, one of the young winners from last year's competition has just won an Australian Geographic prize for her image of a dolphin porpoising out of the water. "Dolphins can be a tricky subject as you never know when or where they will surface. Being patient and quick really helps!" exclaims the high school student. Check out her photo. Stunning.

Clue: This historic building once housed a produce store in Bowral but was moved to its current rural location in 2002.

Degree of difficulty: Hard.

Last week: Congratulations to Ann Smith of Curtin who was first to correctly identify last week's photo, as the frozen lake on Diggers Creek in front of Sponars Chalet on the Kosciuszko Road just below Smiggin Holes. Smith just beat Denis Wylks of Holder and Vivien Palmer of Wanniassa to this week's bragging rights.

Most readers assumed the figure on the ice was a skater (mid-last century the lake, which often freezes over in winter, was used as a race track for ice skaters) but it is in fact Brett Smith, the flipper-clad 'trout snorkeller' who features in today's lead story.

Meanwhile, Carmel Wroe points out "Sponars Chalet is the former staff quarters left after the original Kosciusko Hotel, which was situated in front of the chalet, burnt down in April 1951." During the fire heavy snow began to fall, and just hours after the building was razed it was somewhat ironically blanketed in white.

How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and address to timtheyowieman@bigpond.com. The first email sent after 10am, Saturday September 9, 2017 will be the winner.

CONTACT TIM: Email: timtheyowieman@bigpond.com or Twitter: @TimYowie or write c/- The Canberra Times, 9 Pirie St, Fyshwick.