Fraser Island October 2019 Part 1

Fraser Island October 2019

Day 1

Sunshine Coast to Rainbow Beach, then Inskip Point across to Fraser Island.
SS Maheno Wreck, Indian Head, Middle Rocks, Orchid Beach, Ocean Lake (Zone 8).

So we took Big Betty on her maiden voyage to Fraser Island.

Technically Day 1 started at 4.30am. This does not impress Sadza Cobberdog Jonsson the First (our 14 week old puppy). He looks up from his bed bleary eyed as if to say ‘wot heck guys?’ and the flops back down. He is not invited on this trip as Fraser is a national park and home to dingoes for whom Sadza would be a fluffy snack.

So, up bright (or not so much) and early. The night before was a late one as we engaged in the traditional pre-camping ritual of asking one another repeatedly if we had packed things. Peter was finding the packing slow going and frustrating as he’d just said goodbye to the Wrangler and his Drifta drawers. This was to be our first trip in the LandCruiser which meant a return to packing into bags and boxes in a game of camping jenga. Eventually though all was in place, even the paddle boards which had put up a fight with the new roof rack.

After abandoning Sadza for the first time (well my brother was kindly house and dog sitting but it felt like abandonment due to sad puppy dog eyes) we hit the road. Fortunately I was used to hauling myself up into the Jeep. I looked at the interior of the LandCruiser properly for the first time. The Toyota Venture my parents drove in Botswana in the 1990s came to mind (Google search Toyota Venture). The air conditioner had a sliding toggle control and the locks were square and plastic. I christened her Big Betty. She made an impressive roaring as we sped up our steep driveway no doubt thrilling the neighbours. ‘Don’t worry’, Peter reassured me, when I commented ‘there are airbags.’ Excellent.

The drive from the Sunshine Coast to Inskip Point went quickly on the shiny new motorway. We boarded the barge and Peter immediately spotted dolphins. A friendly tattooed redhead in a singlet came over to compliment us on the two reasons he liked us – namely Peter’s car and Peter’s beard. Turned out he was a fellow LandCruiser driver.

The barge deposited us on the beach. We joined the convoy headed up the shore. Immediately we spotted a skinny dingo trotting along the shore. The tide was halfway up making for mostly smooth driving with some thicker patches. During these the beast bounced around enthusiastically but certainly never thought about getting stuck. We carefully negotiated the frequent washouts, not wanting to bring on rust quicker than we had to. Periodically Patrol drivers roared right up behind us and through the salt water in a spray of sand.

Keen to get to Zone 8, the second most northern camping spots we didn’t do much sightseeing but noticed droves of cars and occupants at several creeks along the way… granted it was a long weekend in school holidays. ‘Herds of children!’ I can be heard to comment as Peter, unknown to me, filmed.

Selecting a camp site was tricky as it was hard to tell from the beach which were occupied. In addition in one area there were roughly 50 identically clad (big hat, hi vis vest, shortie shorts) people and their cars between sites and beach, all fishing hard. We chose an entrance and sped up… there was a small moment of panic as we chose  gears and stopped unexpectedly in thick sand on the incline. However with a small reverse Big Betty sashayed up casually. 

The fun of setting up then began. Whales splashed on the horizon as we worked. This work mostly consisted, as it usually does, of me following Peter around while he sets up, offering to help. My main duties included bed making. This time round due to logistics the mattress had to be blown up on top of the car. This meant I clambered up one side and attempted to hold it down in a brisk breeze while Peter inflated it. Trying not to blow away myself, I longed for a self inflating mattress. Peter longed for his Drifta trailer for which we had just paid a sizeable deposit.

After a simple lunch and having cut my hand opening a packet of salami I headed to the pee tent. This is essential for beach camping where there is little scrub between you and neighbouring campers or those driving by. More so when the weather is cooler and sea wees are not very inviting. Peter had kindly dug a hole. I managed to inadvertently kick most of the sand back  into it before even attempting to pee. I was the faced with a challenge as the hole was rather wide and therefore I had to assume a squat that resembled the drinking posture of a giraffe. Finally it was time for a nap, while Peter settled in to stare at the ocean, home brew in hand.  

Our friends arrived later in the evening. By then the brisk breeze had turned into an icy gale. I donned jeans, a jumper, my beanie and UGG boots. Two larger ladies meanwhile strolled down the beach in light sarongs. We huddled around the Potjie King (pronounced poykie) charcoal cooker but it didn’t offer much heat. Open fires were not permitted in Fraser in the remoter regions. While the boys got the food ready Amanda and I were watching a spectacular sky with the occasional meteorite shooting by.

Our dinner was spaghetti bolognese that Peter had pre-prepared in Thermie and then vacuum sealed with his Kings vacuum sealer. The mince heated up nicely in its bag in boiled water but the pasta had hidden air and bobbed up relentlessly. We added big chunks of garlic bread toasted over the charcoal. The freezing wind quickly cooled our meal down but it was still tasty. Soon after we retreated into our cosy tents out of the wind for a good nine hours of sleep, lulled by the ocean.

The thoughts of Shayne.

See Part 2 of our Fraser Island trip here.