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Published: January 27th 2011
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Fraser Island
On route to Fraser Island we stayed for a couple of days in Hervey bay, a homely laid back seaside town. The vibe is very relaxed here; large families dining alfresco- bbq’s and picnic hampers in abundance, a reggae band cranks out summery tunes and long limbed girls on Snakeboards (the must have toy of last Christmas) wiggle along the promenade. The stretch of beach has tepid water tannin tainted like tea (from the recent floods), young lads fishing on white pontoons.
We hopped on a car barge to Fraser Island in our (slightly decrepit having been relentlessly battered by backpackers)4x4, a small 2 seated jobby loaded up to the nines with supplies. Fraser Island is the largest sand Island in the world, stretching 123km, it is home to extraordinary natural occurrences which have earned it world heritage status. We headed straight to Lake Mckenzie; a perched lake rendered with crystal raindrops, pure and glittering with white white sand. We drove through the rain forest, 20km taking us a good hour over the rough muddy terrain. We hit the 78km beach, a vast golden stretch with rain forest on one side and rolling shark infested waters on
the other. We set up camp that night behind the sand dunes where we got attacked by a strange creature something between a giant fly with a hard armoured back in the shape of a wasp. They are harmless; the bites only tingle a little, but they were in there thousands and sticking to us. It was however the microscopic Sand flies much much smaller than fruit flies which caused the damage- on departure I had 78 bites on my legs and everyone on the boat was dotted red and scratching. After a fishy supper and an ice cold ginger bear we took a stroll in the moonlight; a surreal feeling swept over, the two of us on an expanse of beach under a massive sky with thousands of stars and the occasional skulking Dingo for company. We were heading for the wreck which we could see looming in the distance, it appeared ghostly in its moonlight haze and as we walked and walked and it never seemed to get closer. We were feeling a bit weirded out and Arnaud was talking of seafarer’s ghosts and so forth, we turned back and made a pathetic retreat to camp.
After
breakfast we played around in Eli Creek which again like Lake McKenzie we had all to ourselves. It is like a set from Disney land, clear and jade it tinkles along under a canopy of tropical trees. After which we took a stroll uphill along a 3km sandy forest path – it was grey and soft and as hot as ash, sprinkled with leathery-tan eucalyptus leaves. It was about 30 degrees in the shade and my heart was pounding. You arrive on ascent at the top of a massive sandblow and we traipsed across it flagging in the burning sun -my blue sarong like a veil flapping over my head I was an Indigo man of the desert. The view hits you in the face like the heat; it is heart thumpingly beautiful. At the bottom of the dune an emerald lagoon awaits us. We had to run down the slope as the 50 degree sand was pouring in to our sandals and searing blisters into our feet. We plunged in to the soothing cool water and were surrounded by a Scholl of Catfish and Tetras darting around us and birds of prey gliding above as we regenerated and I
fell a little bit in love with Fraser Island.
My love affair soon came to a grinding halt- as did we. We were heading through the forest to a bush camp for the night and approached a pool (which there had been many) . After poking it with a stick it seemed shallow enough,(hey, we were in a 4x4 after all) but hidden on one side was trench knee high and the right side of the truck became engulfed in the murky sludgy waters. The wheels spun and the exhaust bubbled, darn it. As Arnaud jogged off to try and find help (in the middle of nowhere in a forest at twilight, I was stuck in the car desperately trying to bail. It was no use. We found a family just heading off from the nearest bush car park and they agreed to come and help although they weren’t happy about it. The woman and her 20 something son smirked and took photos whilst the guy didn’t seem inclined to help us push/tug/tow; they at least promised as they drove off In to the sunset that they would phone someone. We removed everything from the car and wading around
in the sludge we tried in vain to get the car unstuck. We didn’t hold much hope of rescue that night so we set up camp by the side of the road. An hour later we were however rescued by tow, and the engine was fine and so were we. A little disgruntled we spent our last day cleaning up the car.
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thea
non-member comment
yay isn't fraser island great, I told you so. The same thing happened to us with our 4x4 sinking and all the aussies stood around laughing and taking photos but luckily we got a tow straight away as it was in the quicksand. I'm just packing to go on holiday so speak to you when we get back xxxxxxxxxxxxx