Fraser Island - Sun, Sand, and 4WD Adventures

Hervey Bay, Queensland.
At Sanctuary Lakes Fauna Retreat on Good Friday, I decide to ask lovely roustabout personality lady owner for directions to nearest bottle shop. She says she used to own a hotel and Good Friday and Christmas Day you are forbidden by law to sell alcohol. She jokes, finding alcohol today would be as rare as finding rocking horse shit! She walks to the fridge in the office and offers me two of her husband's chilled beers. I say she'll be in trouble with hubby and normally I would accept but Gen doesn't like beer and I would be cruel to drink on my own. She laughs and says I'm not a real Aussie male - he would say too right I'll have a beer, stuff the wife she's not lucky.



Gen dives into the undergrowth and discovers jumping spiders.


We take a stroll down to the Esplanade, to mingle with the locals out on the jetty. In festive mood, we pop into an Italian restaurant with alfresco tables - highlight is a cracker of a dessert.

Fraser Magic 4WD Hire's video introduction to driving on Fraser Island includes a hilarious clip warning not to sleep in a swag on the beach in the path of oncoming vehicles. Employee Tony runs us through the briefing with his accompanying Aussie humour, reminding us that enclosures on the island are for humans: the humans are inside the cage, the dingoes are outside. Next Tony rattles through high and low gear instructions whilst showing us around our battle tank, 20 year old Land Rover Discovery.

At River Heads, whilst boarding the small ferry barge, I reverse the Land Rover down the slip road and bump into the bullbar of a couple's same make 4WD hired from the same company as ours. Slightly frosty discussion, portly wife of the driver complains of neck pain...oh uh, here comes a whiplash claim...will see.

Kingfisher Bay Resort is a large sprawling entity consisting of villas on the forested hillside and the main complex landscaped around small lakes fronting the bay. Breakfast on the lakeside verandah of our room. A local lizard clearly likes a croissant crumb as he leaps up the grass stems to grab it. A minute later a goanna ambles past and lazily licks a few ants.

After a walk round the perimeter of the resort, we bump into the family whose car we had bumped. I graciously ask if the wife's neck is better and get a rundown of her aches and pains although she does say the rest of the family thought the prang was only a minor bump. So, being solicitous, I suggest she gets a free massage as part of the resort's offer if we, the guests, agree to skip housekeeping for our room. Apparently her aches only respond to the massage by a known massage specialist rather than the usual Asiatic ones who are rough and don't understand instructions.


Next, we exit the resort, switch to differential and low gear, and we are off on our first sand track driving experience, starting with massive bumps known as the 'roller coaster'. Musical accompaniment was provided by five bottles of wine which we had forgotten in their box on the back seat, so each clink had us worrying our aperitif would christen the car.


Then we slither along at 30 kph through dense forests and over tree roots and dodging oncoming vehicles by veering in and out of passing places until an hour later we arrive at Lake Mckenzie. Crystal clear water laps the sandy shore and plays host to throngs of kids and parents. Dingo signs warn not to leave kids on their own.
 

Road etiquette for the trail includes a V-sign indicating two more cars behind or Gen suggests the zero sign to be interpreted either as no car behind us or arsehole. Sheila drivers are rare, so Gen delights in having a go.

Easter Monday we spent the early morning at Lake Wabby, a lake slowly being engulfed by a giant sand blow pushing rippling sand dunes deep into the forest.

More sand piste adventure took us down to the beach: the vast expanse of the incoming tide was bisected by an ever diminishing hard sand piste with 4WD traffic racing past to get away before the tide ate the beach. Whizzing down the beach we passed signs warning about planes landing and sharing the road with vehicles. With 10 minutes to spare we turned off at Eurong for flat whites and jam donuts.

Venturing out past an electrified dingo grid and the ring fenced community, we spotted an interesting sign that said:

"The likelihood of negative dingo human interaction is greatest during dingo mating season particularly during the Easter school holiday period."

This conjured images of young dingoes, bored with school, bounding off for some enjoyable mating as soon as dingo school was out.

Next stop was the Birrabeen Lake where the bright white sandy beach attracted families with kids to the crystal clear waters. We forgot dingo advice and carried our sandwiches in the day bag, so kept an eye out in case we attracted any dingoes.

Returning to Central Station, an old logging centre, we met convoys of 4WDs, topped with camping gear and fishing rods, driven by cool tattooed dudes with shades. Tucked deep in the forest, Central Station leads to the pure magic of Wanggoolba Creek where a boardwalk follows a translucent stream as it trickles through a valley of quietness composed of giant trees, King ferns, dappled sunlight, occasional bird calls...and around 2.30pm, a bunch of tour groups.

In the clearing above the creek, we spotted a small crowd gathered around a dingo quietly sniffing the vicinity for any treats from the nearby picnickers.


A ranger told the crowd how unpredictable dingoes can be. In 2002, a 9 year old and his 11 year old brother were attacked by a dingo. The 11 year old raced to get help, but when assistance arrived, the 9 year old had been killed. A pilot had also mentioned standing beside his plane on the beach when he was attacked by a dingo which hung onto his leg until he wrestled it off.


Tuesday

The morning driving takes us an hour down a less travelled trail across the island to the Eastern Beach. Gen concentrates on a slalom around rocks, soft sand patches, freshwater washouts, and a host of fishing and camping vehicles whizzing along, skirting the surf. To our amusement, whilst we are spinning along the beach we are passed by a double dunny swaying on a trailer.

Signs warning of aircraft are for Air Fraser busy with its Airvans and Cessnas taking clients up for a scenic flight with takeoff and landing happening on the beach amongst the passing 4WDs.

At Eli Creek, a lovely outflow of freshwater from a leafy creek, the fun thing to do is walk 300 metres up the boardwalk along the creek, slip into the clear, cool water and float down, bouncing off the sandy creek bed, to the slow pool on the beach. Everyone is out for fun: toddlers with tubes; shapely bikini tourists lined up like sardines in the sun; and Aussies enjoying a tinny lounging in deckchairs in the water.

At the Maheno shipwreck, surrounded by a melee of buses and tourists, Gen slips out to sea to take photos without people, but cops a large wave on her behind.

We approached a couple of Cessna pilots, decked out in uniform white shorts and crisp shirt plus cool sunnies, to see when a flight would be possible. The tubby member of the duo thought the plane would be available again in a couple of hours. He suggested a run inland with our car to Allom Lake, then return at high tide for the flight from Eli. Given the low swell, he thought the high tide would leave driving space.

After a quick peek at the Pinnacles, a set of coloured sand rocks, we head inland to Allom Lake. The plant matter in the lake floor turn the water a dark tea colour. At some steps leading into the water, we watch turtles paddling around for food, occasionally popping up their heads to play peepoh.

The return to the beach is a game of cat and mouse with approaching cars - the trick is to be quick and pop into a passing place. It also helps if you can get behind a lead car that opens the road.


Back on the beach, the tide has come right in and we squeeze past, between the top of the beach, incoming surf, and boggy sand...a slice of adventure gets us through to Eli Creek. We see the Cessna and meet two Aussies looking for two more people to make the minimum number for a flight.

 So, once the pilot has brushed the sand off our shoes, we hop in, buckle up, and off we go. The aircraft speeds down the sand strip shared with the waves, lifts into the air and makes a wide sweep across the ocean to head inland.
 

We pass over the large sandy gash of a sand blow, and on over thick forest interspersed with the occasional lake. A thin white line is a driving track winding through the carpet of green kauri, satinay, and other trees once logged before the creation of the National Park.


Small lakes appear nestled deep in the forest.

The last part of the flight swoops low over the wreck of the Maheno, then drops us down again for a perfect landing on 75 Mile Beach.


For the home run in the car, we take the more travelled crossing and rock and roll along the trail until close to the end we meet a tailback of buses. All seems well, so we follow as the jam unblocked. However, it is soon apparent what is the problem.


A 100 metre section of very soft, deep sand slows us to within a centimetre of stopping and blocking the road. As I keep the accelerator down steady, Gen makes a brave decision and bails out of the car, landing off balance, as I relentlessly grind on with the now lighter car inching forwards until finally the wheels bite in firmer, compacted sand. Made it!


The last obstacle is the dreaded roller coaster where heavy traffic has broken a high step into the trail. The bus goes first and clambers over; then a Nissan 4WD takes a run up and hits the step with an almighty wallop that sends the whole car up into the air and over. Finally it is our turn to dive into the step, flip our rear, and land on the other side.

 Back at the Kingfisher Resort there is a splendid sunset, after which it is time to break out the chilled white!

Wednesday

Lazy day off. Gen works on her photos and discovers her lenses are fogged with salt spray, so some pics are spoilt. An afternoon walk takes in the delicate detail of sand blubber crab castings on the beach, before we continue to the jetty for sunset.

Thursday

Boomanjin Lake is the destination today via Dilli Village. The dark-tea stained colour of the water's tannin reminds of the Rio Negro in the Amazon. Sandy, sedge-lined shores and stranded trees provide a splendid backdrop. 

In the evening we splurge on the Seabelle restaurant for a three course meal - entree of scallop, prawn and barramundi with herbal dingo tracks; barramundi cooked in ginger and paperbark; followed by a dramatic torpedo dessert.

The Canadian waitresses tell funny stories about bouncing across the island on the backseat of a tour bus - one girl lands on the seat buckle, another nearly bounces off the bus roof. 

Anzac Friday 

Today we head to the North of Eastern Beach. On the beach we see dingoes, birds of prey, and waders. 

On the scrubby edge of the beach, a bird photographer was surrounded by two dingoes who in turn attracted a circus of cars taking pictures of the dingoes. An image of safari mayhem in Africa was conveyed, with dozens of cars surrounding a couple of mating lions. The photographer, confronted with all the attention he did not want, called it a day and left.

At Champagne Pools, natural rock pools filled by the occasional large wave, we paddle amongst fish and day trippers having fun. Gen wades in for some underwater photography.

In the parking area, two police cars have stopped to breathalyze passing traffic. One officer takes a break to snap photos at the Pools. Later in the day, we get flagged down on the beach near Eli Creek and the same policeman got interested in Gen's camera and mentioned he had been doing time lapse photography.

As we return home and leave the beach, there are loud clonking sounds from beneath the car. We crawl back and pass through the Roller Coaster when the gearbox gives out 200 metres from Kingfisher Bay Resort. We finally get low gear to work and park at KBR before calling the car hire company to swap cars. A very helpful guy with a Swiss accent offers to hop on the next ferry with a replacement car and drop it off for us at the resort.

In the evening, Gen sat out on a bench beside one of the lakes in front of the hotel. Frogs croaked, bats cackled in the trees, and she took star trail photos.

Saturday

Call the hire company and the Swiss guy says our car worked fine when he picked it up last night, however he has noticed a dent on the back bumper. Cue my initial floundering words about 'just a scratch, so we were leaving it to departure day to let you know' and  'we think the other car was one of yours'. So he asks for a picture of the other car's damage which I say we'll email shortly. Apparently, he has diagnosed the banging sound in the damaged car as a broken bush hitting the bottom of the vehicle at the back, not a broken gearbox.

As promised, the reception desk at the resort has the keys to our replacement car. We get to the beginning of the Roller Coaster and discover we can't get into low gear. We head back down the hill to the resort rental car office where a friendly bloke has a jiggle of the gear stick and finally gets us into gear. The jiggling trick works as long as we turn the vehicle off, or at least that's how we solve the problem.


We head back to 75 Mile Beach and spend the day driving up and down spotting terns, dingoes, and kites which Gen photographs whilst I position the car.
 

People fishing with long surf casting rods attract interest from birds and dingoes. We watch a fisherman who is trailed by a dingo which switches its attention to the wife and two small children who defiantly raise plastic sand spades in defence posture.
 
Returning to Sydney, and heading to work the next day, thoughts of 75 Mile Beach distract from the early morning commuter shuffle at the railway ticket office.