We collected Gertie and Bess and got ourselves back on the road after disembarking the Magic, en route to Marlborough – halfway to Hervey Bay. We arrived in the dark at a roadhouse caravan park along the way and got sorted for dinner. Jen heeded nature’s call and in doing so discovered Frankie – the green tree frog. Frankie is an icon to the women’s toilet having been removed a number of times only to return and take up his/her roost over one of the toilets. Sure enough, there he was – a resilient green, moist, solemn looking frog about the size of your palm and open to petting. Despite residing in the women’s toilet, we all had a look out of interest, careful not to intrude on any unsuspecting female who might bag us for perving.
With an early start we made our way to Hervey Bay – the exit point to our new adventure – a four-wheel drive trip to Fraser Island. It took us the whole day to get there but made it in time for dinner and Top Gear at 7:30pm. Unfortunately, when we made it to the TV Room an older gent had beat us to the punch – geared up to watch the final episode of Australia’s Got Talent. We accepted our fate and since Jen needed some space to get packed for Fraser Island, watched the opening and a string of advertisements of the talent show – it was an unimpressive intro and owing to the delay in getting to anything interesting, the gentleman who had beaten us to the remote control conceded and turned the channel to Top Gear which was far more exciting. I popped back to the caravan and grabbed my computer to attempt a catch up on the blog. I struggled though as couldn’t keep the muse working with the distraction of Jeremy Clarkson and his fellow mates gesticulating about different car feats.
We woke early the next day in order to attend our pre-Fraser Island briefing at the 4WD rental agency – Fraser Island Magic – not sure why everything we seem to be doing is associated with Magic – simply the powers of the universe I guess. There must have been (and possibly still are) some pretty serious accidents on FI and as such an instructional, safety video has been fashioned to instruct us would-be-4WD venturers. It went through the basics of four-wheel driving and how not to roll your vehicle in the sand. It tended to point out the obvious such as trying to avoid flocks of birds which may have recently returned from long-haul flights abroad or dingos which were depicted as wild frightening creatures capable of attack with the least provocation. The weather was looking a bit inclement and although we had booked tenting sites were seriously considering looking at alternative arrangements if the forecast for rain persisted. We loaded into our Land Rover Defender with eager anticipation, fired it up and directed it to the closest coffee shop. It was a stripped out SUV essentially – no radio or functioning air conditioning, and had sliding windows and aluminium floors throughout. The rear seats sat up over the wheel wells and unfortunately, the passengers relegated the back seat either had to stoop to see out the windows or rely on their midget status for vision. The clerk at the coffee shop indicated our worst fears – the forecast for the next few days was for intermittent heavy showers so our contingency planning went into effect and we scrapped our tenting plans. While waiting for the ferry a couple of Hummers arrived much to the excitement of Aidan and Cole. I snarled at them, (the Hummers that is) pointing out to the boys the incongruity of such environmentally remiss vehicles being used to visit such a natural, untarnished area such as Fraser Island – a veritable physical oxymoron. They truly are ridiculous vehicles – consuming hordes of fuel and spewing it out unforgivingly into the atmosphere – seemingly giving the bird to mother nature all for selfish, likely male inadequacies.
Fraser Island had arrived and without trepidation we headed into the island. The track was indeed tenuous and we were glad not to have brought Bessie who would have struggled and likely been stuck in the first couple kilometres which were moist and sandy. Bumping around the inland track we arrived at Central Station – a former hub of forestry and some mining in the region. We hopped out for a look around and decided to take a short hike to get a sense of what this part of FI had to offer. The map indicated a 2.7 km hike to ‘the Basin’ which was proposed to take 1 to 1.5 hrs. We’d encountered signs like this before and presumed it meant 2.7 km return so eagerly ventured forth. The path seemed to go on forever based on our expectations and we soon figured out our assessment was incorrect and our total trip would be 5.4 kms – a lot for someone the size of Piper – taking 3 steps for every one of ours. She seemed unphased though and only required a shoulder ride on the way out – what a little trooper! The basin was simply one of the perched dune lakes in the area – lakes that have been formed from depressions in the dunes and filled with rain water. Their pH or acidity is rather low allowing only a few types of marine creatures to exist. The water was quite clear with that tea-tone to it from leaching decaying roots and organic material. The rainforest was beautiful though and towered over us with an almost all encompassing canopy at times, shielding us from the occasional down pour. We swung on vines which mimicked swings, marvelled over the height and geometry of different gum and pine trees and keenly examined the variously coloured fungi taking over decaying wood along the track. We felt almost euphoric breathing in the clean 02 enriched air and after an hour and a half made it back to our Land Rover. With Uncle Fraser at the wheel we made our way to Eurlong – one of the main resort areas on the Eastern Coast and had some lunch. We managed to find a cabin to hold us all at Cathederal Beach and blessed our lucky stars as dark clouds sat ominously on the horizon. We were only allowed to drive on the beach 2hrs either side of the high tide and had been given the approximate times by our rental agency so waited out our time with a wander down to the beach. Fraser at the helm we eventually made it onto the beach and quickly became attuned to the conditions, letting other, more acquainted buses careen by seemingly travelling at comparatively mach-speeds. There are a number of sights along the beach and we hit each in tow. The first of many was Eli Creek – the largest freshwater creek on the island and often with a current forceful enough to carry you to the sea. The water was expectantly chilly but despite this we jumped in at the end of the track and hiked through the shallows on the way back to the truck. Further up the beach we encountered the wreck of the Maheeno, a now rusted out relic of an Italian cruise ship built around the turn of the 19th century. It had been deemed unseaworthy and was being towed to Japan for scraping when a cyclone erupted and broke it free from its towing vessel back in 1935. It managed to gouge a large hole in its side and floundered before finding its eventual resting place on FI. Since then it has been used for target practice during WWII and gradually rusted away to its current withering bulk. As we arrived it was being framed by a rainbow and would have been a perfect postcard shot if it weren’t for the other tourists standing in front of it. We’d seen a number of photos of it prior to arriving and although intriguing, like anything not seen at hand, didn’t encompass the actual object itself. Seeing it firsthand was quite impressive and it must have been quite the sight when it first landed and for the many years that it persisted essentially in tact. From there it was a short hop to our accommodation up the beach. The cabin fit us perfectly and on countless occasions, Jen reminded us what a great idea it was to scrap the tenting option. We had some time in lieu so ventured out once again for a quick peak at a lake nearby with Kelter Turtles which, we were told, would come to the surface simply with the clap of your hands. The 9 km drive in took us a good half an hour and we were worried we weren’t going to beat the sunset as darkness seemed to be consuming us quickly. A near head-on collision woke us to our senses and we eventually made it to the lake. The cute little turtles heard our claps and sure enough started popping their heads out to see what the commotion was about. We made it back without much ado and feasted on some home-made chili before finding our dry protected beds for the evening.
The second day of our FI adventure saw us wake early for a drive to the furthest point accessible on the Eastern side of the island – the Champagne Pools and Orchid Beach. The sun was out and waves crashing incessantly along the beach. Swimming was apparently banned due to the proximity and proclivity of sharks in the area which I suspect is a bit of hype wishing to scare the tourists with the gravest of their ocean fears to prevent drownings due to the many rips and chaotic conditions – risks that some perceive as less likely to lead to a shortening of their existence than the former. We arrived at the Champagne Pools early and had them to ourselves at the outset. Due to volcanic debris and remnants of hardened basalt, large tidal pools have formed in the area and as the tide comes in it fills the pools giving the impression that they are bubbling like champagne. There were a number of little outcroppings and partial caves to explore in addition to the pools which were beautiful but a bit frigid. Uncle Fraser challenged Piper to jump in which she did without fear or hesitation – as is her norm. The boys had a quick spell as well but decided the nooks and crannies were more to their liking. We were in peaceful bliss up until I happened to gaze up to the walkway leading into the pools and noticed a seemingly unending line of young tourists making their way down to us. The invasion led to them stripping down and venturing into the pools. Now – for the record – the outcroppings and boulders surrounding the pools is relatively extensive and capable of providing clothing refuge for a good entourage of tourists so I wasn’t too sure why they had to congregate around where we had laid our wares – to the extent that one self-absorbed sod felt it necessary to step all over Aidan’s clothing nicely folded and dry perched on a rock. It was the final straw of their onslaught and given their numbers we felt a retreat was in order. The group were apparently conservation volunteers from the US and Canada – code for rich uni students wishing a holiday to Australia but lacking the gumption to call it what it was and offering to look at plants and animals for a couple of weeks in the interest of cajoling their karma or guilty consciences for the carbon footprint taken to get here. Up the road we came across yet another store and fuel stop – literally in the middle of absolutely nowhere – I was surprised though as Unleaded petrol was actually cheaper than up in the nether regions of the NT! A kilometre or so further on we reached Orchid Beach and planted our flag as we were the sole intruders to the area. It was somewhat unique and refreshing to occupy our own stretch of beach – just us and the tired birds. Since arriving we had been struck by the amount of pollution that seemed was scattered along the beach. We had stopped on numerous occasions to pick up a recalcitrant plastic bottle littering the vast expanse of beach upon which we were travelling and were surprised that some seemed to be from Singapore or Malaysia or China – presumably washed in from boats skirting the mainland. At Orchid Beach I took a stroll up the beach and in doing so managed to pick up a bucket load full of plastics and a pillow complete with pillow case. I have this relationship with karma such that if I see a piece of rubbish on the ground, feel it is then my responsibility to pick it up and dispose of it appropriately. Probably why I despise Maccas so much as there always seems to be someone who feels that if they consume crap they can treat their environment in a like manner and simply toss their refuse wherever they please – something my conscience can’t handle. A picnic lunch and passage of the high tide later we turned our compass back down the beach to Indian Head – a large volcanic outcropping rising well above the crashing waves and open ocean below. A rather washed out track led to the edge of the cliffs and from atop Jen spotted a frolicking pod of whales on the horizon – the first we’d seen on our circumnavigation and as such an incredible thrill to witness. Manta Rays abounded and a couple of dolphins could be seen playing in the waves as well. Back on the beach we ventured homeward and rented a couple of fishing lines to see if we could catch our dinner. I (with Aidan’s help) was the only one with any luck though and caught a couple of Darters but neither of sufficient length to keep so we had to throw them back. Whilst casting my line and shivering in the shallows a dingo happened down the beach and headed up to the vehicle causing Jen and the kids to scramble in – fearing for their lives. The curious canine wandered around the truck wondering what the fuss was about and realizing there were no treats to be had continued on his/her way to more exciting shores. I copped an earful later from Jen, citing my non-chalant casting behaviour as being uncaring to hers and the kids’ precarious situation with this wild beast. It was all worthy of a chuckle as the beast looked more likely to lick you to death than take a bite. Resolved to a dinner of kebabs and no fresh fish, we trekked back to the cabin for some past due journal writing, dinner and evening Uno tourneys.
Our final day on FI took us to Rainbow Gorge, a sand-blow (moving dune) a few hundred metres inland through some rainforest with brightly coloured orange and creamy lichen. The rainforest opens up into a treeless void with variably coloured sand ranging from white to tones of yellow, orange, beige and black. It looked like a moonscape of sorts and the kids likened it to a scene out of Star Wars. A steep dune rose up before us on one side and like Everest simply had to be climbed. From the top the kids rolled and scrambled down with much glee and having had our fill we headed back to our Land Rover for one last in-land trek. We had anticipated time to hike to Lake Wabby – the deepest freshwater lake on the Island with dunes that you could apparently slide down into the water, but time was of the essence so continued our journey to Kingfisher Bay and the ferry barge terminal. The resort there is absolutely stunning with a couple of pools, a heated spa and trails out to the calm beach on the lee-side of the island. We decided to enjoy our last few hours with Uncle Fraser by treating him to lunch at the resort and enjoying the tranquillity of the surrounds. The water was like glass on our short ferry-ride back to the mainland and we made it back to Fraser Magic 4WD hire without incident. Bessie and Gertie were waiting – keen to get back on the road and down to Brisbane. Uncle Fraser had decided to rent a car as he wished to visit some of his friends down on the Gold Coast so we said our goodbyes and headed onward. Now I’m not sure what the planners were thinking but virtually all the way to about 50kms outside of Brissie, the road is single lane with the occasional overtaking lane. We were pushing it to try to make it to the caravan park before closing at 7 pm but soon found out our efforts were to be obviously unsuccessful. Fortunately, they were able to leave our site information at reception so en route we were able to get fed and ensure we arrived alive with fuel in the tank. Our last night in Gertie had arrived and exhausted from our long day we crashed, the end of our 6 month journey nearing an end.
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