Snorkelling, fishing and surfing take on totally new meanings when Daniel Scott tries them out in the rainforest.

It's a steamy morning in the Tropical North Queensland rainforest and I stand in a waist-deep pool at the edge of the Mossman River. Beside our small group, led by experienced outdoor instructors Barney and Michaela, the river is bubbling and tumbling, swelled by recent rains.

I am still half-asleep and too self-conscious about the flaws of my body revealed by my snug wetsuit to be fully concentrating on Barney's directions: "Just relax and let the current take you," I think he says. "And try to stick to the deeper part of the river".

Happily, the rather more sveltely wetsuited and aptly named Michaela Flood is ready to demonstrate. She launches herself head-down and snorkel-up into the rapids and swims hard across them, like Lara Croft. Then, reaching mid-river, she lets the water carry her, drifting swiftly but gracefully downstream and pulling up about 100 metres away near the opposite riverbank.

"So we're aiming for that calm section which is known as an eddy," continues Barney. "And don't worry. We'll grab you if you're going to overshoot."

Before I know it, Barney is summoning me for my first attempt at river-drift snorkelling.

I push myself into the white water, angle my mask into the swirl beneath and start to flail my arms and legs like an out-of-control ceiling fan. At first all I can see is the riverbed flashing past below, all I can hear is the swoosh of churning water and although I am trying to travel headfirst the river is twirling me around like a twig.

After a few seconds, however, I remember Barney's advice and stop struggling. Almost immediately, my body rights itself and I am carried smoothly downstream. I raise my head occasionally to check that I am still on course and as I near the eddy, I manoeuvre myself clear of the current, coming to an ungainly halt by digging my heels into the sandy riverbed.

During the next 90 minutes, we zigzag down the clear tropical river, spotting big river perch and freshwater turtles as we snorkel. Pausing often we take in the jungle scenery, bright-breasted birds singing in the trees and fluorescent butterflies fluttering by.

Finally, having earned our drift snorkelling P-plates, we float serenely down the Mossman on our backs, gazing up into the glistening green canopy of overhanging trees and their accompanying epiphites. It is a wonderful way to start the day and an exhilarating but intimate experience of the river and surrounding forest.

My day continues equally well when I join Linc Walker for a cultural habitat tour at nearby Cooya Beach. Linc is a young member of the Kuku Yalanji tribe, which has lived among these coastal rainforests for tens of thousands of years. He is also a born teacher, sharing his heritage and knowledge of the mangrove swamps where he has fished and foraged since he was small with ease and pride.

As we follow muddy fishing trails between tangled branches, we learn what miraculous plants mangroves are, crucial to the coastal eco-system in providing, among other things, a protective nursery for growing fish. They are also a rich and varied source of tucker - from mud crabs to whelks and molluscs - for those who know where to look.

His people, as Linc explains, were careful not to overfish, however, so as to allow nature to replenish itself.

So far I have experienced these World Heritage-listed rainforests both from underneath and at their coastal edges. Now, after leaving behind the sugar cane plantations north of Mossman and crossing the Daintree River, it feels as if I am travelling through their midst.

As the narrow road twists and curls toward Cape Tribulation, the jungle seems to bear down upon it, giant ferns and screw palms creating a tunnel around it. With an ethereal mist suffusing the trees, lit by glimmers of sunshine, and with choral music playing on the car stereo it is one of the most uplifting drives of my life.

Before I know it I have arrived at Cape Tribulation and am being strapped into a harness for an afternoon of surfing through the jungle canopy on flying foxes. I can already tell from the banter between the guides and my group of mostly young women that this is going to be fun.

Then I am handed my helmet, which has the name "Monkey" inscribed upon it. I might have spent the morning with Lara Croft but, according to their headgear, my companions this afternoon are even bigger cinematic legends such as Tarzan, Princess Leia and, erm, Tinkerbell.

In common with drift snorkelling, this tour melds excitement with education and the guides are careful to pass on information about the 135-million-year-old rainforest we are flying through while also safely scaring the living daylights out of us.

The canopy tour runs on a system of flying fox ziplines linking fi ve tree platforms, the highest of which reaches nearly 20 metres off the ground. Guides do all the hard work propelling jungle surfers along using a rope pulley system, allowing you to enjoy the wide-ranging views across the forest canopy and out towards the Great Barrier Reef.