05/02/2012
Finding free wireless is proving harder and harder to obtain
the further up the cost we go, and the average rate for paid wifi is around $1 per
fifteen minutes. We’re both being suborn and insist that this is way too costly
and refusing to buy any, hence the reason our bloggings are slightly behind. We
are trying our best to keep everyone as up-to-date as possible as we understand
our ‘fans’ are constantly on the edge of their seats, pressing the ‘refresh’
button hoping that the next issue will appear. Just bear with us ;).
The following post is all about our amazing time on Fraser
Island.
Following a coolingly cleansing shower and a refreshingly
relaxing night in an actual bed it was once again time to back a small backpack
ready for yet another couple of nights camping in the wilderness. In the
morning (7am, ergh) we were made to watch a 45 minute safety video about how to
not die while we were on the island. This was compiled into three main
sections; ‘how not to die while driving on the rough sand-made terrain’, ‘how
not to die by fatal dingo attacks’ and ‘how not to kill others and the
surrounding environment’ which included the sub-category of ‘how to have a shit
safety and responsibly in the wilderness’.
My favourite parts were the bits where it showed you fatal car crash
wrecks and told you real life stories of dingo’s ripping off a man face and eating
small children. My confidence levels for coming back alive weren’t exactly at
their highest, but to be fair most of the stuff the video guided against were
common sense [we were later told however that Fraser has one of the highest
tourism death rates in the world… but don’t worry parents, we both came back
unscathed].
Everyone we have met during our travels have always said
that their time on the island was in their top 2 experiences while travelling
Australia [it’s usually been a toss-up between that and Whitsundays, which we
are also doing in a week or two] so the video had no real effect on us, we were
just eager to get there! I think in total there was about 30 of us heading out
to the island in total, all split between four teams and four vehicles. Scott
and I were in team 1 along with a couple from Switzerland and two girls from
France and we were in the ‘lead car’ which the tour guide drove and all others
were to follow. Advantages for this included; more space as we only had 6
passengers in the car whereas the others had 8 and our seats were down the side
of the car rather than across, we also got to see everything first including
wildlife that often ran / swam off before the other cars caught up and managed
to stop. The disadvantages were; we couldn’t drive the 4x4 as it was the leader
and if we crashed, everyone would crash so anyone that wanted a turn driving
had to beg the other teams to let us drive theirs.
Once we were given our team’s food and equipment we were off
for a 20 minute drive from Rainbow Beach to strip of beach where we were
transported to Fraser via a barge.
From the boat the island didn’t seem to be that big, it
wasn’t until we started driving to our campsite that we got to see why the
locals called it ’75 mile beach’. Within the first 5 minutes setting wheel on
sand we broke the first of driving rules on the safety video ‘don’t drive in
the water’. It was high-tide and a tree had fallen, blocking the only available
stretch of sand we could drive on, leading our tour guide to literally say
“fuck it guys, we’ll take the cars for a swim”. Luckily nobody became bogged-in
or got swept away into the ocean, so far so good.
I didn’t really have any expectations at all about what
driving on the island would feel like. I knew there was obviously no roads and
we’d purely be driving on sand but I just assumed it would feel the same as
driving anywhere else. I was quite taken aback when we started cruising along
at 80mph, bouncing from wall to wall as the wind whistling in our ears and witnessing
the lapping waves of the ocean whizzing by. There was something abnormal about
the feeling, and exciting.
I’ll write a little paragraph about our tour guide Bret. He
was a guy of about 40 who obviously had no real intention of ‘growing up’. One
of our concerns about being in the lead car with him was that we would miss out
on doing stupid things while on the move like the other groups would be doing,
but it luckily wasn’t the case. He appointed Scott as lead DJ for the car,
having the music pumping constantly and he grinded the car to a halt anytime
any of us saw some kind of wildlife. His job really was just to get us from A
to B and to make sure no one got left behind anywhere, but we were [debatably]
lucky [depending whether or not you were interested] as he was an actual tour
guide in a previous life, so he told us lots of facts about the area throughout
our travels and was able to answer pretty much any question we could come up
with.
The first stop of the day was camp, where we erected our
tents and set up our communal area. Another perk about being in team one was
that we all got a tent between two, where everyone else had to split 3 tents
between 8… muhaha. As we both like quiet to aid sleep, we pitched our tent away
from the area everyone else set up theirs, which worked well in the first
night, however proved a problem on the second… I’ll tell you why later [I like
to keep the skimmers reading intently].
We made some lunch and then set off to Lake Mackenzie, a beautiful,
still lake with no rivers or streams connected to it. As the only water to
reach this area high in the mountains is rain water seeping down from the
mounts framing it, it holds some of the most pure and clear waters on the
island, completely free from pollutants. To conserve the area we were strongly
advised not to enter the water until after 20 minutes of applying any kind of
creams etc and especially asked not to pee while swimming. While we were
driving through the rough terrain up the mountains and through the dense
rainforest towards the lake, Bret told us that this was the most beautiful
place he had encountered in all his life as a tour guide. It wasn’t hard to see
why when we got there. Totally postcard perfect.
In terms of wildlife under the shimmering surface, there was
none making the lake feel more like an extremely large and tranquil swimming
pool you’d expect to a billionaire to commission on their private island.
The sands here were also meant to contain cleansing
properties for your skin/hair, personally I'm pretty sure this is the same as
sand found anywhere as it’s all exfoliating regardless of its location, but
nethertheless we gave it a good go with the Swiss couple from our team. We did feel
pretty clean afterwards…
2 refreshing hours later we hoped back into our cars and
made our way back to camp for some grub. Along the way Bret said ‘so who wants
to see a whale and a turtle’ and so we all got really excited only to be taken
to a dead version of both mammals. Basted. I do however have a really funny
video [which it won’t let me post on here] of my innocently filming the sea /
other cars from out the window when suddenly all you can hear is the French
girls screaming and Scott yelling ‘stop, stop’ to the driver. By this point
I’ve panned the camera round to see what the fuss is about only to be greeted
with Scott bouncing on my lap eager to jump out the car soon as we stopped.
Once stationary all you can see is my feet running along the beach [as I just
catch sight of what everyone was so excited about] and slow down to reveal a
turtle making its way into the ocean (which is a rare sight as the turtle
population here is massively low at the moment due to all the flooding the year
pervious). It did have a fin missing thanks to [we’re guessing] a shark, but
heyho, least we got to see one. Whether it was complete is neither here nor
there!
The sun had just about set by the time we reached camp so we
quickly got set making the evening meal for the team. I wasn’t expecting
mealtimes to be as stressful as they were. Everyone had a different opinion on
how to cook and what to cook it with and the occasional language barrier just
added to the heat. I enjoy cooking and stuff and if I had it my way I would
have told everyone to buzz off and leave me to it all, but teamwork and all
that jazz prevented me. The main thing is, we got it done and it always tasted
nice. So at least we didn’t starve.
The beach was just over a sand dune towards the back of the
communal area at camp, so immediately everyone shouted ‘beach party’ and off we
went to the other side, Goon in one hand a torch in the other. Bret soon pulled
the car around and switched on the massive speaker he’d installed on top of the
4x4 to fill the air with beats, helpfully scaring off any dingo’s lurking in
the bushes nearby.
This was the first real chance Scott and I got to speak with
all the others who weren’t in our team which was nice but we were all very
drunk so in the morning it was a case of ‘I'm sure I spoke to that girl/guy
over there last night, but I'm not sure..’. But socialising wasn’t the reason
Goon was an essential item. It also made sleeping on nothing but a hard floor
with a wet, scrunched up towel for a pillow, bearable!
The first place Bret took us to the next morning was Eli
Creek, or as it had become nicknamed; Hangover Creek. The reason for this? Well
the creek is a constant flow of freshwater coming from the mountains preventing
the temperature of the water rising in the sun’s heat to any more than 10
degrees. So he likes to bring everyone here in the morning of the first day to
wake everyone up, and it definitely did the job. One dunk under the water and
you’re alert.
A ten-minute drive further down the beach and we came to a
shipwreck washed up ashore. I love shipwrecks so I found it fascinating but for
the life of me I can’t remember the name of the vessel. I can tell you however
that it was built a couple of years before the Titanic and started its life as
a luxury liner before being used as a medical ship during WW2 due to sheer
speed. It then spent some of its time as a private boat before being sold to a
company in Japan to be used as scraps. It was on this voyage over that a storm
hit just off the coast of Fraser and the boat was hit by a wave, capsized and
left on the shores where we were stood.
I like to throw in a few facts for you guys here and there,
everyone loves a bit of history.
From the shipwreck we drove further round the beach to place
called the ‘Champagne Pools’ [which yes, caused most people to sing LMFAO song
with similar lyrics]. These were large rock pools on the seafront where the
tide splashed against the stone walls, creating a visual much like the opening
of a champagne bottle, giving them their name. As is my luck every time I tried
to take a photo when the waves were doing their signature move, my camera kept
missing, and I tried for ages to no prevail. So I'm sorry guys, you’ll have to
go and see for yourself!
There was some great wildlife in the waters and some amazing
views to give the area that little added extra!
Just before we went back to camp we had one last stop,
Indian Rock. On the way there we drove past a shark in the water, so naturally
we all jumped out our cars and ran screaming to the water after it…. As you do.
This last visit entailed a 15 minute walk up some rocky
ground to a very unstable looking point at the top. Before we left Bret gave us
the usual safety briefing which consisted of “there are signs saying ‘stay 3
meters away from the cliff edge’ so make sure you stick to that… however by
doing that you won’t see anything” with a cheeky wink. He was good at giving us
‘safety instructions’ following with a hint to ignore what he’d just told us.
Near the crashing waves down below we saw lots of stingrays
playfully dodging the rocks and behind us were just some amazing views of the
whole island. Again giving us a great prospective of the mass scale of the
completely sand-made structure.
That night was very similar to the first, food / drinking /
beach / beach games [like ‘British Bulldog’] / drinking games / passout in
tent.
Unlike the first night however I was woken in the early
hours by the sound of footsteps circling our tent. At first I thought it was
someone sleepwalking as I could hear a very deep mumbling sound accompanying
them, but then a second set soon joined, followed by a third until it sounded
like there was a crowd outside. Looking to my left I could see that that Scott
was still sleeping, and I started to prepare myself for some sort of prank from
the other campers to uncoil…
It wasn’t until one set of footprints stopped directly where
our heads lay and a booming sound of a howl ripped through the solemn night,
that I realised that it was actually a pack of dingos outside our tent. I shook
Scott awake in case we needed to be alert for anything just as another two or
three members of the packed mimicked the leaders howl. The sniffing and
scratching of our tent then ensued while were sat upright and looked at each
other with a synchronised look ‘what the F*** do we do’? Luckily after shaking
our tent a bit they moved on, probably realising we had no food inside [rule
number two of the ‘how not to die by dingos’ video].
For our final day we spent the morning taking down our tents
and ensuring the campsite was left rubbish-free. We then jumped into our vans
and set off to an area where there was a lake secluded by sand dunes. It had
once been connected to the sea, but over thousands of years the winds had blown
the sand further and further into the island [it is still moving at about 1cm a
year] and as such, trapped a small mass of water teaming with life.
Scott managed to swap a car with someone so he could drive…
I’ll let him write about that:
"It was cool"
The lake was again nice, there was lots of Coy Carp swimming
around eager to come up and say hello, and there was lots of little fish that
ate all your dead skin. It was a nice, relaxing way to spend our last bit of
time there, and gave us the opportunity to be clean for the way home.
The trip was so much fun as a whole, very different to our
Everglades tour but I think we both enjoyed it equally… if not more.
I am happy to report that it was the last time camping –
hurray! I can enjoy it for a few days, but I'm glad we can just look forward to
beds and showers for the remained of the trip!
Oh, on a side note… One thing they didn’t warn us about on
the safety tape was the deadly ‘Fraser Slut’. A woman who has no morals and
will do anything for a cheap laugh. If you ever dare enter the Fraser Island
shores, be sure to avoid her at ALL COSTS!
