Instalment 14 - Fraser Island, Brisbane, Lamington NP

We took a small detour into Bunderberg if nothing else to get a photo and send a text to Marnie. Funnily enough we passed Gin Gin on the way and thought of Mari. We’d seen signs of some museum dedicated to Bert Hinkler, the first person to fly from the UK to Australia. The museum was actually his Southampton home that had been transported brick by brick some 10 years previously. Presumably his flight had been a one way ticket. As we drove through the suburbs, which like most of Queensland was full of bungalows, often on stilts, I almost crashed as I wellied on the anchors after spotting a pebble dashed semi detached house in the middle of a park.



We got to Hervey bay about 3 o’clock, and just in time for the last ferry. We’d heard a lot about it as a 4 wheel drive heaven with miles of beach and tracks of sand, the general expectation is that you will bog yourself at least once. What we didn’t expect was for the ferry to get bogged. An exceptionally high tide had left it perched on the causeway, and the crew were trying various methods to try and push it off including using a Landcruiser.




Two lads were on the ferry with us, their ute loaded with fishing gear and each with a stubby in hand. From this point the people on the island fell into 2 categories;
Bogged back packers in old white hired land cruisers
Blokesworld blokes, away from their other halves to go fishing for Tailor – the seasonal sports fish, all in flash looking 4x4’s, and without exception all with a stubby.



We camped at the first eastern beach the first night as it was late and next day cruised up through the middle of Island to a western beach.








Here I caught my first edible fish, a small sand whiting. Although not sufficient for a full feed, fried it provided rather a nice aperitif.
The next day we headed as far north as we could. At India head there was a wide expanse of sand leading off the beach with 2 tracks. I mistakenly took the left one and we ground to a halt. A bit of shovel work, some more air out of tyres and help from a young lad racing around in his suped-up truck (‘Pig 22’) and we reversed out. A second attempt and we got grounded again but were able to back out unaided. The last time I went for the right hand side with about 3 times the speed and we skidded through. I was now a whole lot more nervy in the deep sand.




We pulled up to a camp spot and immediately Siobhan spotted a large stick poking out the back of the car. Somewhere through the morning a large branch had been pushed up from the back wheel jamming the hand break on and wrenching through the plastic rear cover. I was leant a hacksaw from the chap camped next to us. In the end I had to saw it into 3 sections before it was freed and the hand brake was released. Possibly the reason we got bogged? I’ll stick with that.
Our neighbour Hytel, there for his 15th annual 3 week fishing away from the family in Noosa (only about 100 km away) invited us to his caravan for drinks. Getting a caravan there seemed like an engineering feat in itself, and indeed he recounted that it took a tractor to get him through the section we’d got stuck for several years until he bought his land cruiser and developed his;
‘You hit it at about 70km/h and you pop out doing about 5km/h’
He’d caught so many fish that we provided the veggies and he provided a large pile of really tasty Dart.
He persuaded me to join him fishing in the morning so at 5.30 am we drove down the beach in the dark. We got to a spot were a huge line of fisherman with enormous rods were stood. Apparently everyone fishes the same spot due to all the cast bait acting as burley, and it was indeed a strange site seeing hundreds of pilchards flipping out to sea. Hytel gave me one of his rods and pile of Pilchards. He showed me how to put the 3 hooks through it and we squeezed into the line. On either side I could reach out and touch the other fisherman, so an exact casting method was required to avoid snaring everyone else. Unfortunately I don’t posses said skills and spent a fair bit of time walking side to side over and under the other lines. People where pulling out Tailor at quite a rate and soon after Hytel caught one a kamikaze fish pretty much took my line and I bought it home. On reflection, I’d fed about 12 pilchards to the flock of fish, my line regularly coming back with just the back bone and head left, and hence was probably down overall for fish thrown in against fish pulled out.
In the end the weed growing in that spot got the better of us and we spent another hour catching dart further up the island. Hytel showed me how to clean the fish and gave us an assortment to be going on with as we headed off to the far south of the Island.



The spot that had stopped us the day before now resembled a strange strip of fly paper with a number of vehicles trapped. Of course as an expert now I boldly advised on tyre pressures methods of exit and the like and exclaimed loudly about the lack of training that hire car companies give out.
Luckily we got through without any trouble.



A quick look at the wreck and a swim down Eli creek and we continued down the 75 mile beach passing group after group of Aussie blokes in circles boozing around fishing rods.



An uneventful ferry trip preceded us finding a wrecked valve as we tried to return some pressure into the tyres. The 2 garages were booked out and it was 4pm so a bit of gaffer tape and we drove to the beautifully named town of Gympie. We got lucky here and at 4.55 a Beaurepairs repaired it for a 10 buck back hander in about 3 minutes flat.
“You can get back on the beach now mate”, And indeed it appeared that we’d bought a fair bit of Fraser Island with us.
We battled on to Noosa a town described in our 6 year old Lonely planet as being still largely untouched by tourism. The builders have been pretty busy in 6 years I’d say.



A little friend came to say hello..


The next morning we headed for Brisbane and got there about 2pm and got a spot in a backpackers. For a Weds it seemed awfully quiet as we walked into town and eventually we realised there was some kind of bank holiday – Ekka day was taking place. We got the catamaran transport down stream and back, and I must say Brisbane is a pretty flash town. As we headed back up stream piles of young people done up to the nines and pissed to bits started to board, straight from the races Melbourne cup style.



We always said that on the gold coast we would take in a theme park and had decided on movie world. The kid in me dragged us up at 6am, showered and drove the 100km, stopping only for a McBreakfast which I felt under the circumstances was obligatory. Fuelled up and ready we got to the front gates to find out that it opened at 9.30 am. Only 2 hours to kill then.
We got in and took in the attractions, the superman ride being quite a thrill. I was disappointed to find the Scooby doo ride was broken and the Looney tunes ride wouldn’t console me. The Lethal weapon ride was very good, but I was struggling to think who would be buying anything from the shop dedicated entirely to lethal weapon merchandise. Siobhan suggested a lethal weapon shot glass in response to Mel’s recent booze fuelled escapades.
Siobhan forced me to stand and be photographed with wonder woman, an actress of similar vintage to Linda Carter. I don’t think I’ve blushed like that in a long time.



By now the Scooby ride was running again, and we ran around completing the attractions. Brilliant, but unlike as a kid when you could then sleep in the car as you were driven home we had to drive to surfers paradise. We both fell asleep to the wild whooping noises of the partying back packers heading out for the evening.
A slow start the next day and eventually we got up to Lamington national park, and had to have another early night. Clearly movie world had taken its toll.



Finally refreshed we put in a pretty good hike and then headed off to the legendary Nimbin.