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Published: November 21st 2006
Fraser Island is another obligatory stop on the backpacker circuit, however it turned out to be one whose appeal I really didn't get - I can only apply the dreaded adjective "nice" to it. I suspect part of the problem was doing it on an organised tour rather than independently, but I didn't fancy the risk element involved in a self-drive tour - a company will cram you and at least 7 strangers into the back of a 4WD and, with an hour of tuition, expect you to successfully negotiate the Fraser "road" network unscathed. This would require the group to gel well, not to mention drive well, and any decisions about meals (both contents and times) and destinations would need to be done by consensus - as an ex-project manager, I thought that would be too traumatic for me to deal with.
Fraser is the world's largest sand island and, at 123km long, is no mere sand bar. It's famous for its dingo population - since there have never been domestic dogs on the island, the Fraser dingo is likely the purest dingo in Australia - as well as its landscape, in particular 75 Mile Beach and assorted lakes
of clear blue water bordered by white sand beaches.
The plus points of going on a tour were that we had a professional guide who knew how to drive a 4WD and had plenty of Fraser information at his fingertips, plus we had somewhere decent to stay the night (I'd been told that camping on Fraser wasn't quite the romantic experience you get in, say, the Outback, due to constant noise (e.g. howling dingoes, backpackers partying, etc) and plentiful nibbling insects). One downside was that the group size was 24, a little large for getting to know everyone in just 2 days and 1 night - another was that the company did not have permits to visit all the sites so, for example, we didn't see Lake Mackenzie (arguably the most famous lake on the island, though correspondingly the most crowded).
One irritant was the fact that the bus had as little legroom as if I'd been in the back of a crowded Landcruiser, so I didn't even need my seatbelt as I was already wedged firmly in place. This is tedious at the best of times but even more so when the road is bumpy.
The
Wangoolba Creek
And its crystal clear watergroup was a mix, ranging from a pair of retired couples all the way down to an 18 year old Swedish girl who went into a sulk early on due to it not being a get-drunk-and-fall-over tour. Brits were in the majority, with Germans (of course) and Swedes close behind.
We crossed to Fraser via the River Heads ferry, as the Moon Point one was closed for repairs. Our first destination was Wangoolba Creek, a rainforest watercourse with such clear (fresh) water that from a distance it looked as though there was no flow at all because you could only see the bed. Fraser in fact contains an enormous amount of fresh water, with hundreds of millions of litres of the stuff draining into the sea every day.
Next we motored up 75 Mile Beach, the main thoroughfare on the east of the island, stopping at Eli Creek (for some pottering in the water), Cathedral Beach, and Coloured Sands. One of Fraser's most recognisable sights, the rusting wreck of the cruise ship Maheno, was the highlight of this stretch, but the hordes of people traipsing around it removed any sense of isolation that might otherwise have enhanced the
experience. We also saw a death adder, which the guide rather meanly poked with a broom handle in order to force it to reveal its distinctive tail tip.
We were given an option to do a short plane ride over the island, with the plane using 75 Mile Beach as its runway. In a role reversal not seen at most airports, the plane taxied over to our vehicle to pick up the couple of people who wanted to do the flight, so they only had to walk 10 yards.
A quick climb up Indian Head, from where we saw turtles battling the surf, as well as plenty of clouds, rounded off day 1, before we went to our camp (luxurious permanent tents). The subsequent moonlit wander down to the beach revealed yet more clouds and, more disappointingly, nary a dingo. Even a few cans of beer with the barbecue failed to rouse the party spirit in the group and it was an early night all round.
Day 2 started with a tiring, sweaty walk across sand dunes to the welcome oasis of Lake Wabby, where we dived in and enjoyed a spot of leisurely paddling in the
Wangoolba Creek
And its crystal clear water warm waters. While I was swimming about as far from shore as it was possible to get, the sole dingo of the trip put in an appearance, mooching around our bags and towels until the guide scared it away.
A visit to Lake Birrabeen after lunch gave the opportunity for a further swim, but in colder waters. Apparently the sand and water in the lake are perfect for cleaning tarnished metal, which didn't necessarily give me a good feeling about what they were doing to my skin.
With the tour having been underwhelming, I was determined to have some post-Fraser revelry back in Hervey Bay, which Mother Nature did her best to ruin by brewing up a colossal thunderstorm that not only delivered a deluge of biblical proportions but caused a powercut too. That was insufficient to keep distance between me and several beers, and a small group of us outlasted the storm in the apparently permanently open bar of Fraser Roving.
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