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Published: November 25th 2008
Hervey Bay
3 2 1 ...............Humpack whaleThere are vivid memories of sitting on top of Indian Head on the east coast of Fraser Island - the sun was shining, sharks were swimming in the sea below, dolphins were also swimming making a mockery that the two give each other a wide berth, the odd turtle floated on by - it was a Monday morning. What would we be doing on a dreary Monday back in the UK? It was one of those iconic moments when you know you made the right decision to head to the other side of the world with a backpack. We probably had the same thoughts on Whitehaven Beach at 6 o’clock one recent morning, but I was too busy playing beach cricket at the time to dwell on it.
The same thoughts had not been on my mind during the thirteen and a half hours spent on the overnight bus to get to Hervey Bay - it seemed like a good money saving idea at the time. We arrived in a near deserted Torquay at 6.30 am, hoping that Beaches Hervey Bay did not transpire to be a kindred spirit with Beaches Airlie Beach or a local Fawlty Towers. Hervey Bay
Fraser Island
The wreck of the SS Maheno is a confusing spot - the reality is that it’s a string of small towns all linked together on an esplanade. The East Coast has a claustrophobic atmosphere at times - the first people we met at the Bus Station were two Irish girls we’d done a quiz with at the backpackers in Horsehoe Bay and then we met four of the Matador “crew” in Beaches. Hervey Bay is nothing to write home about and the only recollection of the town is a nervous encounter with an Italian with a cut throat razor, who administered a much needed hair cut. Fraser Island was the main topic of conversation in the hostel. The majority do a self drive 4 x 4 tour - a company will group 8 people together, throw in a Tojo Landcruiser and some camping equipment and point you in the direction of the ferry. The tales in the hostel were mainly of woe - lost keys, stuck in the sand, fines by the National Park wardens for leaving food out overnight for the scavenging dingoes and of excesses added to credit cards (of one of the eight, whilst others swiftly leave town) for minor damage to the
Landcruisers. We made a call and booked a tour - it could work out cheaper in the long run. After deliberation we made the decision to go to Fraser Island with Fraser Island Tours, which took the worry but not the fun out of the equation. It was still camping at fixed sites on the Island, the grub was thrown in as was a purpose built truck (that was the equivalent of anything used by the overlanding companies in the Kimberley or southern Africa). The east side of the Island was a bit manic, especially the stretch around the wreck of the SS Maheno. The main road here is basically the beach and everybody is shuttling up and down between the tides trying to get to Indian Heads. I forgot about the sharks clearly visible from Indian Heads and waded in on the deserted west coast in a succesful pursuit of my first fish catch since I was about 12. It might just be lucky or perhaps the old makeral landing skill was still there, as first cast produced something for the supper table. We ended up with a good haul for the barbeque. The overall Fraser Island experience is
Fraser Island
The view from Indian Head one big sand fest!
After the foray to Fraser Island, we went out for a morning of humpback whale watching on the Bay. The advice was go out early doors. The next morning arrived, the sky was overcast and the sea had more of a resemblance to the North Sea on a winter’s day. Was this a good day for whale watching? Well it certainly wasn’t a good day if you have no sea legs and we’ll let you judge from the photos on the whale watching! The photos were taken from a small boat, Seaspray.
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