Sailing Away

The story is that they were discovered by Captain Cook on the seventh Sunday after Easter in the year seventeen seventy and subsequently became known as 'The Whitsunday' Islands. The truth is that they were originally named ‘The Cumberland Group’ and have only recently adopted the name, 'The Whitsundays.' Probably as the original name was more worthy of a sausage factory, but whatever their background, their reputation for being ‘a place to see’ in Australia is absolutely overwhelming.

The base from which to experience these gems of the ocean is a town called Airlie Beach. As this is the main base point for exploring the islands, the town is well prepared for tourists, and there is no shortage of companies there offering you a 'bargain.' The good news for travellers is that every aspect of the town's business is in competition to gain your money, from the hostel you stay in, the bar you drink in, and of course, the boat company you sail with. It also means you have to shop around like crazy to find the best deal, and then as soon as you've committed to one, you find out another company has just dropped their prices. But hey, that's life.

For 3 days and 2 nights, we would be sailing around The Whitsunday Islands on a 75ft Maxi Yacht called “Samurai”. In her younger days she participated in a number of offshore races like the 'Burns Philp South Pacific Maxi Championship' and the famous 'Sydney-Hobart Yacht Race.' Her placing in these events was not mentioned on the flyer, so I would assume she never achieved a podium finish.

The capacity for our home for the next 3 days was 20 people so we expected things to be a little claustrophobic. Our surprise was that the company had not been able to fill the remaining spaces, and decided to proceed with our trip with only 7 passengers on board. Suddenly we had an exclusive charter for the cheapest price in town - Get in! We later discovered that the company seemed to have provided enough food for 20 people - no hunger pangs would be felt on this trip.

Our first afternoon was spent sailing out to the islands and then dropping anchor near to the island we would visit the next day. We helped with the sailing when required, but there was little need. The rest of the time, we simply relaxed, read, chatted, and of course, ate plenty of food. There were a few moments below deck when the engine fumes combined with the ocean sway to make a few people lose one shade of their tan, but no-one produced a fountain of fish food.

The next morning we were well rested, and then well fed, before leaving the yacht on a motor dingy. The skipper had purposely dropped us off on one side of the island so that we had the best view of ‘Whitehaven Beach’ & ‘Hill Inlet’ when crossing over. It was spectacular; beautiful blue waters blowing wisps of white sand that hung lazily around outbreaks of rainforest. The feeling we had of discovering a lost paradise on 'Fraser Island', was flowing with a vengeance through our bodies once again.

We danced around the sand, took a million photos, and then wandered around the headland to find a quieter area of beach away from the advancing tour parties. When we arrived back on the boat, the snags (sausages) on the barbe' were nearly ready and another feast was soon laid out. In the afternoon we moved on to a different island and prepared for some SCUBA action. This was a great bonus to non-certified divers as it gave them a 30 minute try-dive that would normally cost over $150 in other parts of Australia. Within ten minutes of the first dive, we found luck once again. This time, lying on the bottom, under 10 metres of water, and in the shape of a 6ft ‘Shovel-Nose Shark’. Completely non-challant about the inquisitive beings swimming around, it lay there with only the movement of his eyes showing its awareness.

After the dive time was completed, I grabbed my mask and snorkel again and swam back out to the spot above him. By diving down and holding onto a rock less than a metre from him, I was able to hang around and get another look. After about ten minutes of repeating this, I decided to not push my luck any further and leave whilst both my fingers and toes were still in double figures.

We watched the sun setting while throwing bread into the sea and watching huge Batfish appear out of the dark water to devour it. Before the light had completely left us, we stood transfixed as a small Brown Shark was attracted to the activity in the water and began swimming around the boat. We decided to share some of our meat for the evening, and I began to wonder if this would attract a larger relative to the area that we would be snorkelling in the next day.

Unfortunately our last night was ruined slightly by one of the crew members who in typical Aussie fashion, couldn't handle his drink and decided to give out a load of abuse. When I confronted him, he backed down, apologised profusely, but later carried on the insults when I wasn't around. A great ambassador in the making.
Our next day started with some snorkel action next to a very special island. Special because it is home to the 2nd most expensive hotel in the southern hemisphere. As our boat was obviously not allowed anywhere near the rich and famous, we were moored on the opposite side of the island.

After lunch we hoisted the sails and pointed back to mainland. The wind picked up, our boat tipped to an impossible angle, and we (all wearing our warm clothing) promptly got soaked though to the bone by the spray. Everyone was laughing but this was more out of hysterics than comedy enjoyment. Our luck was that the weather had held out this long. The wind that so hastily brought us back to port, also brought with it, a fortnight’s worth of bad weather to the region.

Our sailing ‘bargain’ included a free night at our hostel so there was no need to leave town straight away. I entered my first pool competition that night and achieved a respectable 2nd place and a jug of beer for my efforts. Wheels were turning in my mind as a new idea for supporting my traveling addiction came about. I’d just have to make sure my future placings were better and the prizes were more financial.

Lost

One thing we noticed as soon as we were on the East coast of Australia was the large number of destinations that we already knew we would be visiting. This is the path already travelled by thousands of people every year, and as such the top places are known by everyone even contemplating a visit - drastically different to the west coast.

Fraser Island was one of these locations. It is 80 kilometres of the largest sand island in the world displaying a list of qualities you'd expect from a fictional lost world. The interior is a covering of rainforest that hides a variety of fresh water lakes, each different from the next in colour and qualities. Its borders are endless motorways of flat sands that are surrounded by a breeding ground for Tiger Sharks. Amongst the rainforest is a lovely selection of animals including Monitor Lizards, the deadly Brown & Black Death Snakes & one of the purest breeds of Dingos in Australia - an information board on the island stated it would be easy to identify one snake from the other; a Brown snake will move out of your way, where as a Black Death Snake moves for no-one. From the view point at Indian Head, huge Manta Rays could be seen sailing through the water and every now and again, there would be the unmistakable black shape of a large shark. The beach was definitely closed for swimming.

The "roads" on the island are little more than cleared lines through the forest which do nothing to flatten the terrain. The only places where more than a walking speed is possible is on the large flats of hard sand near the ocean's shore. For these reasons, only 4 wheel drive vehicles are allowed on the island and even these struggle with the conditions (and the drain of playing music all through the night).

On the first day, we visited Lake Wabby, the deepest of the lakes on the Island. It has a rich green shade, and a subtle smell of the fish that inhabit it. One side of the lake is a mountain of sand that is slowly encroaching on the lake and consuming a metre off its width every year. It will be gone in less than 25 years.

There was a genuine sense of secrecy about this lake that was not perturbed by the groups of backpackers gracing its sandbanks. Maybe it was it's surroundings; one side of the lake was the hills of sand, and the other was dense rainforest that hid the path and consumed the sound of cars before they could reach the water's surface. The silence was the constant here and the voices of people were merely small disturbances to its power.

Our camping party was the combination of 3 trucks of 9 people on the "Fraser Roving Tour". On the first night we stayed in the relative luxury of a campsite, and on the second night, we stayed just beyond the first sand bar on the beach. Each group worked with varied cooperation in the cooking, preparation, and clearing away of each meal, as most people assumed different tasks. The most important aspect of mealtime was that no food or scraps be left outside the trucks - Dingos would swarm on the area and eat all food remains in sight given the opportunity.

Lake McKensie was the most beautiful lake we saw on the island and is often the chosen subject for poster advertising. It sits high enough, that its water remains clear of the impurities of some of the other lakes and is surrounded by perfect white sand. Once again the rainforest guarding it's borders protects against prying eyes. It was like finding paradise. At least that is, until a few hundred other backpackers arrived and shattered the illusion. We were thankful that we had arrived early enough in the day to see it so empty and late enough in the season that even at its busiest wasn't as bad as it can get. But still, I wanted it just for the two of us.

I often curse the sight of other people at the places we go to, and certainly that was the selfish feeling I had at Lake McKensie. It made me think about the true motivation for the great explorers of history. Was it a selfless act of discovering for the people of the world that drove them, or was it a selfish desire to find something for just themselves?

In retrospect, I realise that it was the people on this trip that made it worthwhile and so memorable. Fraser Island is truly beautiful but there isn't much to do there, and not a lot to keep your mind busy during the marathon drives along the beach or through the bumpy interior. The people on the trip made these times a lot more fun and as part of the experience as any of the lakes. Along these lines, it was probably our evening barbeques and drinks sessions that were the best aspects on the tour, although the subjects weren't nearly as pictureasque as the natural views on the island.

Another Holiday

'Noosa' was a member of an exclusive list of 10 locations you "must" visit in Australia. People we'd met on route also voiced this opinion although the admiration seemed to lie not on what you could do there, but in doing very little. This sounded pretty good to us after all the excitement on the Gold Coast.

The sparse clothing draping off bodies immediately hinted that this was a holiday town. Add to that a massive range of fine restaurants, a couple of beaches, a dozen beach shops and bars, and you have 'Noosa'. The unfortunate thing for us was that as a holiday destination, it charged holiday prices. Even our patch of grass in a campground, 45 minutes on a bus from the beach, cost $28 a night. I think that's taking the piss slightly. With similar prices about town, we swiftly made the decision that there wasn't going to be enough here to warrant staying more than a couple of nights.

As the tent went up and the sun went down, we saw the first signs of a cold night approaching as goose-pimples began to cover any exposed flesh. So, we did what anyone would do in this situation (not), and ignored the consequences of our actions and jumped into the swimming pool. The water was heated but this was swiftly being drawn away by an evening breeze. As soon as my skin was clear of the slightly warm water, I ran for the safety of the showers praying that some hot water remained.

The next day, we left the tent as soon as we'd defrosted and jumped on a beach set for Noosa Beach. From there, we took walking to a new level of slowness and spent the day strolling around the headland, through the National Park, and stopping at beaches whenever the mood took us.

We stopped constantly to chat, take photos, or just gaze into the distance. When we finally completed the route to Sunrise Beach, we saw an army of grey conquering the skies and bringing with it, an unrelenting torrent of rain. Despite our position, sheltering under a tree next to a bus stop, we thanked our luck that the clouds had been kept at bay for the majority of the day. When the bus did arrive, our smiles hadn’t faded in the slightest, although we were looking forward to getting into some warmer (and dryer) clothing.

Noosa shows all the amenities and luxuries that you’d expect from a holiday destination in the sun, but we saw little of what we were searching for in Australia. There was nothing we hadn’t seen before – except for during a few hideous moment of clarity on a nudist beach. Why are these places never as you imagine?

Like with our time on the Gold Coast, we didn’t feel we were seeing anything uniquely Australian - just the familiar tracing of so many other resort towns from around the world. I’d recommend it as a place to relax for anyone spending a limited amount of time in Australia. Possibly for a break after spending time spent in the cities along the coast. But for us, there was no need to spend another night.