Fraser Island... and the many hazards of Oz.

Hervey Bay is the gateway to the much-loved Fraser Island, the largest sand-island in the world. It's a very sandy place, reputedly containing more sand than the Sahara Desert! Another sandy feature are the 224 metre high sand-dunes, necessitating a 4-wheel drive to access the place. In light of this, we had to abandon the van and succumb to a dreaded guided day-tour. Arising at 5:45 for the priveledge was no joke, but it was to be a day of adventure. As luck would have it, the skies above were a worrying grey, dotted with black clouds. Not a fortuitous start, I thought, as we bumbled along to the marina, bypassing some scary-
looking birds with massive curved beaks.

Looking out onto a choppy sea, I thought about how lethal the waters around the Fraser Coast are supposd to be - something to which Vic Hislop would testify. Not only are there unruly sea conditions and undertows, but sharks of the man-eating variety are found here in abundance. Namely, Great Whites, Tigers and Bull (or Whaler) sharks. (This is where he caught most of his specimens). He is clearly a man proud of his life's work - there is another of his freak shows here! As these sharks often swim very close to the shore in knee-deep water, you really want to be keeping your feet dry (and sandy).

After boarding the ferry for the 35 minute journey to the island, we were treated to the sight of a very big Leopard Ray in the shallow water beneath the jetty. We followed his progress along the sandy bottom and promptly saw another smaller ray soon afterwards. This instantly perked me up - who cares about the weather? A short jaunt along the boardwalks of the posh resort, brought is to an abrupt stop. Steve, our guide, threw his arm across our path just in time to prevent a Sam & Andy / double brown snake interaction. "Were they poisonous?" asked an eager Andy "Oh yes - the brown ones are!" said Steve quietly, whilst shouting out to the rest of the group who'd missed them scuttling back to the scrub that they were "nothing to worry about - it's the brown ones you have to watch out for!" It always pays to be teacher's pet at the front of the group.

As if sharks and snakes aren't enough of a concern, you need to watch out for the Dingoes - the wild dogs which have become increasingly anti-social due to being fed by tourists over the years. If only this was known back in 1980 when Lindy Chamberlain claimed that "a Dingo stole my baby." During a camping trip near Ayers rock, the Chamberlain's baby daughter was stolen from their tent, never to be seen again. Failing to recognise that dingoes could do this kind of dastardly deed, poor old Lindy was convicted for murder and 'banged up in the slammer.' Sadly, a 9-year old boy was mauled in 2001, thus leading to increasing hesitance towards the act of cuddling wild dogs. They then went and shot 30 dingoes in response and at this time, pure-bred dingoes are now an endangered species, with only 150-200 remaining on Fraser Island. I've seen 'em in the zoo and they look incredibly wolf-like and unfriendly. I'd rather kiss Elvis, my brother's Rottweiler (and believe me, that would take a lot) than going near one of those beasts. Bizarrely, we watched the film "Cry in the Dark" whilst staying at The Davis in Bangkok. I just knew that Meryl Streep, despite a fretful bowl-cut hair style, was telling the truth.

Our first stop was Lake McKenzie, reputedly a magical spot featuring a lake of pure rainwater. If you are able to envisage a beautiful blue sky and erase the beautifying-effects of the emergncy poncho, you can imagine how gorgeous this place would be. Everyone else looked extremely miserable, but we made the best of the situation like a pair of simpletons and splashed about wearing our celophane sreations. The sand is silica granite, like Whitehaven beach and the lake is extremely pure. It is prevented from leaching into the sand by a layer of rotting vegetation or humus. Chickpeas are marvellous things. Considering the nippy weather, the water was nice and warm. It maintains a pH of 4.5-4.8 and is magic for washing your hair in. According to our guide, Steve ("your guide, your driver and hopefully by the end of the day - your friend") you don't need shampoo or conditioner and when you come out your hair will be fluffy and gorgeous. You can also buff your jewellery by scrubbing it with the wet sand. Forgoing the opportunity to be transformed into something fluffy and shiny, we went in search of sustinence.

Steve is a man who thrives on repetition. Throughout the morning, he said "in a minute we'll stop off for a cup of tea and a muffin... maybe a biscuit," several times. By the time it had been uttered four times, it became very funny. By the time he'd said it seven times (no exaggeration), it was to become hilarious. His love of saying everything several times actually apppealed to my dim memory, meaning we (yes, even Andy!) were able to absorb a lot of information. And he like to chat. With more than a passing resemblance to my Dad and Alan Titchmarch, we were loving Steve by the end of the day!

Being on a 4WD bus is quite a novelty and quite necessary to negotiate the rough sand tracks of Fraser. Following a very rainy cup of tea and a muffin, we bounced our way towards the sub-tropical rainforest section of the island, listening to Steve providing commentary by means of a Madonna-style microphone headset. A very pleasant walk through the forest protected us from the rain and we marvelled at the jewel-bright colours of the palm and the creepers post rainfall. It was a different type of rainforest again, and the only one in the world to have sprouted and thrived in sand. Some pretty massive trees loomed above us and a crystal clear creek ran though its centre. A brief herding later and we were in a hotel having lunch, and then we headed for the beach. Yipee - more sand! Along the beach, the eerie Maheno shipwreck juts from the beach. A passenger ferry blown ashore in the clutches of a cyclone in 1935 on its way to the scrapyard, the top of the Maheno now peeks out of the sand as a rusting lump - much of it buried underneath. The joy of watching idiots running around atop the rusting carapace despite the signs warning them not to! My day would have been complete had one bloke in particular fallen through the structure, receiving a tetanus-complicated open fracture, as he managed to be in all of my photos. Oh why can't people behave?

Eli Creek was our next top, another source of crystal-clear, fast-moving water. I'm sure it's very nice on a hot day, but we didn't join in the rest of the miserable group for their wade down the creek. Everyone was falling asleep, but Steve carried on regardless and droppd us off at yet another destination (our third so far) to be named "The Pinnacles." These lumps of sandstone are banded with different colours due to mineral deposits and weren't nearly as impressive as 'the proper' Pinnacles. Not sure I could take much more without another cup of tea and a muffin...maybe a biscuit, but we were deposited once more to catch sight of the sand dunes. And so the day of fun came to a close. Damn those group tours, but Steve made it so much better!

This may be digressing, and yes, the detail is necessary. We've been having some quite spectacular dreams of late, but it's rare they can be recalled. The other morning I awoke abruptly to the sound of Andy doing a little trump. Allegedly, I sat bolt upright in bed and exclaimed "Was that a yak?" before rolling over and going back to sleep. As it's unsafe to let one go whilst wearing a wetsuit, he's certainly making up for lost time. Time to ban the mung beans and keep him away from the trees.



Currently listening to : Andy's Organic Sounds (not yet available in HMV).





Currently managing to escape this stressful life by reading: Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman.