Day 1:Shuffling into the dining hall at 6am, bleary-eyed and still half asleep, we sat down with our teams for a tour and camping-gear overview: how to pack the equipment, operate the vehicle, and find our way around the island. The overview, delivered by a gruff and portly Aussie mechanic with a very poor bed-side manner, read like a military order: "you WILL stop at Lake McKenzie. you WILL change into your togs [togs?] and you WILL have a swim. you WILL take photos. you WILL go up Eli Creek, and you WILL like it."
Swim. Photos. Have fun. Got it.After reviewing our equipment check-list, loading our trusty 4x4 with supplies and piling ten bodies into whatever space remained, we were off! One short ferry ride later we found ourselves on Fraser Island, and quickly acclimating to the challenges of driving on sand. First stop on the itinerary was the stunningly beautiful Lake McKenzie, a picturesque lake of dazzling, crystal clear water flanked by white sandy beach. And who should we run into but Anna and Katja, my German pals from Noosa. We spent a blissful hour swimming and sunbathing, until it was time to hit the sandy trail again in search of the next "must see" Fraser landmark. The going, however, proved difficult as our tires began to sink in the sand, bogging us down and sending up clouds of dust. We quickly established a routine to un-bog the vehicle:
Everyone out. Push. Dig out tires. Push some more. Everyone in.Rinse and Repeat.With the five o'clock deadline to reach our campsite fast-approaching, and our boggings becoming increasingly frequent and irksome, we had to hustle. A quick lunch stop at Central Station, a Team A group photo at Lake Birrabeen, a lovely drive through subtropical rainforest, and finally we arrived at Lake Boomanjin just as dusk began to fall. With a precious few hours of daylight remaining, we began setting up camp -- assembling tents, starting the fire, and preparing dinner, which consisted of approximately 17 varieties of meat, all equally unappealing. Meanwhile, the ever-disagreeable Team B decided to camp elsewhere for the night, so we adopted Lucy and Anya into our group and happily waved the others along, secretly hoping they would get bogged in the sand and eaten by dingoes.
Now, don't get me wrong, I love camping. I really do. But camping on Fraser Island turned out to be a whole other beast entirely. No sooner were the tents up than the wind began to whip and the clouds darkened, threatening rain at any moment. Trips to the toilet were a group affair due to the chance of a snake or dingo attack. Spiders the size of my head lurked in every dark corner, and giant horseflies attacked with unrelenting ferocity, biting through even the thickest of clothing. And to top it off, I was without a sleeping bag. I curled up in a tent with Anya and Lucy, and coughed until my throat was sore and my lungs felt ready to explode.
I couldn't wait 'til morning.
Day 2:We awoke at the crack of dawn, shivering and cramped from sleeping on the cold hard ground, our enthusiasm for camping and Fraser Island slightly diminished. We packed as quickly as we could and clambered into the truck, eager to be on the move. But even after ridding ourselves of nearly a cooler's worth of food, fitting everyone in was a tight squeeze as we had acquired an extra two passengers. No sooner were we off than the tiresome routine began again.
Bogged once. Bogged twice. Bogged three times. Finally, after a frustratingly slow first hour and a helpful tow from the friendly park ranger, we made it to the beach. Once on solid(ish) ground, we cruised along the shoreline to our first destination of the day - the Maheno Shipwreck, the rusty remains of a ship washed ashore decades ago. A quick look around, a few obligatory photos, and we piled back into the truck (because how long can one be asked to admire rusted metal?) and made a beeline for Eli Creek, where we DID get out, and we DID enjoy it.
Last stop on the itinerary was Lake Wabby, a stunning emerald green lake surrounded by towering sand dunes on one side and a thick eucalyptus forest on the other. The lake itself is accessible only by a hefty hike down through the forest -- which would have been fine, had we paid attention to the dark clouds rolling in across the skyline. By the time we reached the top of the trail, a light rain had begun to fall and we could hear the rumblings of thunder in the distance. We hastily crammed in and sped away from Lake Wabby in hopes of reaching our campground before dark, or before a storm hit. No such luck. The rain began to fall and the darkness closed in, broken only as bolts of lightning flashed through the sky. And then suddenly,
Hsssssssssssssssssss.A flat tire. We piled out of the truck and huddled together under anything that would keep us dry as the boys set about changing the tire. In the rain. At night. During a thunderstorm. Of course. After what seemed like ages, with the spare tire on and everyone piled back in, we made our way to the beachside camping grounds and spent the next hour constructing a makeshift kitchen out of tarps and setting up tents, none of which kept anyone particularly dry. Retiring early to bed, we passed another cold and sleepless night. Morning couldn't come soon enough.
Day 3:Awoke damp and cold, yet strangely elated at the prospect of getting the hell off this godforsaken island. We made a farewell stop at the beautiful Lake McKenzie, only to be greeted by a hazy grey fog. Taking this as our cue to leave, we headed toward the ferry dock and felt our spirits lifting and our moods brightning the closer we got.
Back at the hostel, I indulged in a long luxurious shower, packed for my overnight busride up to Airlie Beach with Tom and Sarah, had a great laugh about it all over dinner with my wonderful new friends and came to the conclusion that Fraser Island has decidedly been one of the highlights of my trip thus far.
Go figure.
