Our guide, Neil drove us directly onto the ferry and stayed with the van while the rest of us moved up to the deck for the crossing. Once on the island, we had a good hour's drive through the dense forest before we reached the oceanside coast for our first stop at Eli Creek.
A short amble along a boardwalk running over fecund underbrush led us to the lovely creek, which several of us floated down back to the sea, where a tasty fruit and sandwich lunch awaited us on the back of the truck. Not everyone braved the rather chilly water, however, as we'd met with overcast weather and the temperature out of the water wasn't much better than in it.
We continued our drive up the seemingly interminable 75-mile beach to where the ship Maheno had run aground many years before.
The rust had rendered the wreck unclimbable, but I peered in and watched the surf froth over and around its rotting innards.
After a short stop at the Colored Sands, which were basically... colored sands, we moved on to the northernmost end of the island, where Neil allowed us to sneak into the rock-encircled Champagne Pools despite the fact that we hadn't paid the tax for that particular site.
Afterward, we climbed up to the perch at Indian Head.
Cloudy, or no, the view impressed, showing not only the sandy coast and the forest behind it, but the sandy inland and the scope of the epic 75-Mile Beach as well.
As we backtracked southward, a dingo trotted past. I must say that it looked pretty much like a normal dog to me, but then normal dogs don't typically eat children. And no, this is not a "Seinfeld" or "A Cry in the Dark" myth. Just a few years ago, a 9 year-old was left unattended by his parents on the beach, and he was eaten.
At around 5pm, we reached the compound where we would spend the night. We split ourselves into rooms, me sharing with Julie, and regrouped to take a plunge into the pond just behind our cabins. The amber tea-tree-oil-infused water warded us off at first, but once the sand flies began their attack, we each scurried in to escape them.
Refreshed and temporarily reprieved from the insect assault, we treaded water while Martha and Joel took turns diving down in a fruitless attempt to reach the bottom of the surprisingly deep pool. Trina got out and threw in the lifesaver on shore, and we all hung on with one hand to take a rest from our dog-paddling. Dragonflies began harassing us in seeming solidarity with their shore-bound sand fly brethren, and eventually we succumbed and rushed back to the bank and then to our cabins.
That night we drank the beer we'd picked up at a stop at the island's sole shop, ate burgers and steaks that Neil had grilled up for us, and played a series of games, including a maddening brain teaser involving ropes. Stephanie, the only local in our group, made us laugh with dozens of bizarre Aussie sayings like "One kangaroo short of the top paddock." Once we'd returned to our cabins, Julie and I sat up gabbing for a while and then passed out with a chorus of frogs, birds, and who-know's-what-else singing outside.
In the morning, I tried the infamous Aussie/Kiwi spread, Vegemite, for the first time, and-- contrary to the general trend of either loving or reviling it-- I felt rather indifferent about it. After breakfast, we took an appreciative look up at the blue sky and radiant sun and loaded back up into the van, heading straight for Lake Wabby. Neil dropped us off, pointed us in the direction of the trail, and said he'd see us two hours later. Eventually the track opened up onto a vast desert plain with a view of the ocean beyond.
At the other end, the lake awaited.
The moss-colored lagoon felt amazing in the sun and catfish approached us tenuously as we swam.
We spent the next hour swimming around and running up and down the massive slope that led down to the lake before another raucous tour group arrived and made us glad of the necessity of returning to Neil and the van.
On the way back, we saw a goanna-- sort of a mini-komodo dragon-- and any number of hand-sized spiders. I told Katrina that, as most likely the only doctor on all of Fraser, she was responsible for reviving any of us who might be bitten. She didn't look amused by my suggestion.
We drove back into the forest and set up a picnic table lunch at the grounds of the former logging camp where Neil mocked me for my staggering consumption of water since the previous day. "No wonder you've got to piss all the time!" We took a quick wander about and read the information boards, mostly devoted to the tragic history of the early settlers' and English government's disgraceful treatments of the aboriginal residents of the island. I hadn't realized before arriving in Australia how harshly the aborigines had been dealt with, how decimated their population had been, and how tenuous the racial relationships remained within the nation even today.
Moving on, we took a short hike along Wanggoolba Creek within the awesomely antediluvian Central Station rainforest. The Creek's water runs so clear that it gives the illusion of not being there at all. Neil informed us that the backdrops for the History Channel series "Walking with Dinosaurs" had been filmed in the legitimately prehistoric landscape. Some of the King Ferns in the area actually dated back to the dinosaur era.
Walking through the rainforest, I was dumbstruck by the magnificent and bizarre plant life, much of it looking straight out of "Avatar". And then there were the trees. We marveled at the beauty of the climbing ferns wrapped around massive kauri trees,
the shapes of the blackbuttts (like this one, which looked like Treebeard from LOTR; and yes, that really is their name)..,
and the sheer size of the grand satinays.
After an hour's journey, we reached the other side where Neil was waiting for us with the van. He then took us to our final and most-anticipated destination: Lake MacKenzie. And it did not disappoint.
The water of the lake was totally translucent, like the ocean waters in the Caribbean. But given that it's a lake, we didn't have to contend with any waves. Other than a slight ripple from the wind now and then, the water stood completely calm, like in a pool or gigantic bathtub. In a word: perfection.
The sand itself remained so pure, that you could polish jewelry with it-- which several people did-- or even your teeth. We all tried rubbing a bit of it on our pearly whites in attempt to make them even pearlier, but who can say if it worked.
We'd had the good fortune of arriving at a time with virtually no one else in sight. But as our final moments at Lake McKenzie drew near, the shore filled with people from other tour groups, and we scurried away in retreat.
On the way back to the van, I stopped repeatedly to pick and stuff my face with Miggum berries, tiny wild fruit that Neil had shown us how to identify along the path. They tasted of honey and cinnamon, and I couldn't get enough of them.
After some cookies and milk at a small picnic area, we headed back to the ferry dock. While we waited, the sand flies attacked once again. We'd all taken to slapping them off of each other, often without warning, and the situation had escalated into a full-on smackfest. Gemma had suffered the worst, both literally at our hands and figuratively at the hands of the sand flies, who seemed to find her particularly delicious. I myself had several bites all clustered together on my rump. Best line of the trip, in response to my predicament: "You must have a tasty ass."
As we stood batting away the flies, I took a ponderous look at the low-tide ferry dock. Little to no water remained in the basin, surrounded as it was by mangrove forests on each side. Yet to my amazement, the huge ferry pulled right in to the shallow port, and we drove onboard.
That night, we saw the sunset from two perspectives: the first while we sat on the passenger deck of the ferry as it returned to the mainland, and the second as we dropped everyone off at their accommodation. Either way, beautiful.
That evening, I sat at Flashpackers and checked my email while waiting for the time to pass. At 8:30pm, I caught the free shuttle to the bus station, but since my bus didn't arrive until 1am, I crossed the street to the movie theater and took in a showing of "The Hunger Games" while I waited. (Not as good as the book, but not bad.) Afterward, I grabbed the healthiest snacks I could find between the gas station convenience store and the local McDonald's and plopped onto the outdoor station's bench to wait.
Once I'd arrived in Brisbane, I took a 20-minute train ride to the outskirts of the city, during which I had a strange conversation with an older woman who told me stories about her family as though I knew them "Well, then Barbara arrived, and you know what that must have been like for Herb...."
I had arranged to stay with the local CS Ambassador, and it ended up being exactly what I needed. Steve's place was a veritable couch-surfing haven. He had two rooms all set up for CSers and other guests, with towels and linens folded neatly on the bed. He had no problem with me arriving at 7am, and no sooner had I gotten there, than he showed me where the key was kept, the CSer food cabinet (!), and the sauce he had set to cooking in the crockpot for our dinner that evening. I couldn't have asked for more. He headed off to work, and I took a nap.
After my nap, I showered and set out for a wander around the neighborhood. I found a bakery with fresh croissants and ate them as I snaked in and out of side streets on my way to the grocery store. When I got back to the house, I spent the rest of the day paring down my things for Asia and reading "A Clash of Kings". When Steve returned, we had great conversation over an equally-enjoyable meal and then watched an Aussie cooking show called "My Kitchen Rules," which I would surely be addicted to if it aired in the States.
The next day I spent much in the same way, except that when Steve returned from work, he took me out to see some wild kangaroos. I lucked out and got to see a roo in the pouch of its mamma.
Afterward, he took me to a lookout point over the city, where we stayed for sunset, and then we returned to the house for where I made salmon over salad while we watched another episode of "MKR." I left the following morning, thanking Steve for his gracious hospitality and for giving me the exactly the place I needed to get my things together and my head on straight before heading to Asia.
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Location:Fraser Island, Australia
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