Hello Sailor
Fraser Island was okay. It was beautiful in places, like the soft white sand of the beaches at Lake McKenzie or the long beach which acts as the island's motorway-cum-airstrip along its East coast. India Head is a lovely viewing spot for the ocean where you can see sharks, turtles, and whales in the water far below you.
I traveled the island in an old Land Cruiser with 8 other people. Six Irish, one Welshman, and one Yank. It was a good crowd though I couldn't help but feel slightly disinterested in the island and what it offered. I was more concerned with the driving of this behemoth across the rutted sand tracks of the interior of the island and the lethal beach and washouts along its coast. At one point I even found God in the back seat of the 'Cruiser as I prayed for the thing to stay upright. It could get pretty hairy back there. Even God got out at the next stop.
If I ever went back to the island again I would go off-season as it's a very popular tourist spot and as a consequence quiet busy. I can't recall what I was expecting of the place but I felt that it should have been quieter. I guess maybe I was suckered by the photos that I'd seen. Were they even of this island?
By the end of the 3 days I was a broken man. Lack of sleep on the back of the same from the Whitsundays trip, too much rum, too much beer, and the hysteria of the driving all built up within me. By the time I left the hostel the day after our return I had made some friends and really needed a break.
What better way than to call up on some people I had met whilst in NZ? Sometimes people give out their details when they're away and ask you to pop in anytime. How many of us actually call on these small favours, in England at least? I decided to do this and met up again with John and Ananta Kolesky whom I met in Doubtful Sound about a month before.
I felt a little awkward before John pulled up in his car as I was nursing a hangover of biblical proportions and did not want him to see me like this, but after downing 2 cans of Coke I felt better and we were off. The first thing we did was prepare John's 14' catamaran and take it out into the bay. My hangover soon evaporated and I was having a great time as we made stately progress towards some of the smaller islands near the bay.
I have never been on a small sailing vessel before and John has sailed since he was small. I believe he even raced boats in the past so he showed me how to do it.
Naturally, I proved that I am as mal-coordinated on water as off and so mastering the art of turning the boat fast, trimming the sails, and ducking the boom all at once left me laying face down on the boat grasping a bit of string wondering what had happened. Had the wind been stronger we would have flipped, but John saw the funny side as he did when I tried to elegantly slip out of the boat into the shallow water and just ended up with my arse in the air and my head under the boat. Such poise.
I had a great time that day though as we really did not do much and it was just the tonic I needed. The strange thing was that at some points at low tide the water in the bay is only a few centimetres deep. We discovered this after running aground and this was when we had to literally get out and push. At one point I was standing a good 2 km from land in the bay going for a wee in the water and, whilst looking all around me, it appeared as if I was standing on the sea. One of my more memorable wees.
That evening I accompanied John to his session in the nets for his local second XI with whom he plays every week in the local league. I met a few of the players and while the standard was good I realised that with some practice even I could play at this level. I bowled a few at some batsmen and even managed to get a small percentage of them on target which pleased me no end. Of the ones on target one of the batsmen said that they "Were not bad". Don't encourage me.
I watched the game the following day and John's team, The Cavaliers, won. It was another great way to spend a day as that morning I had been running errands in his ancient and slightly cranky Land Rover. Upon attempting a hill start I discovered that the hand brake did not work. The people behind me saw the funny side, I think. My nerves were settled by the cricket and the post-match beer.
In all I had such a wonderful weekend there that the events of the past week in Fraser seemed like a distant dream. I suppose I was hazy for most of that time but with some decent food, sleep and activities over this weekend I "came alive" again, like a dry lawn getting water.
Rejuvenated like this I got on the bus to Brisbane Airport and my flight to Tasmania. I took with me some good memories and maybe the chance to come back again some time. It's true what they say, "The best things in life are free". I've just re-read that. It sounds a little syrupy. Never mind.
I traveled the island in an old Land Cruiser with 8 other people. Six Irish, one Welshman, and one Yank. It was a good crowd though I couldn't help but feel slightly disinterested in the island and what it offered. I was more concerned with the driving of this behemoth across the rutted sand tracks of the interior of the island and the lethal beach and washouts along its coast. At one point I even found God in the back seat of the 'Cruiser as I prayed for the thing to stay upright. It could get pretty hairy back there. Even God got out at the next stop.
If I ever went back to the island again I would go off-season as it's a very popular tourist spot and as a consequence quiet busy. I can't recall what I was expecting of the place but I felt that it should have been quieter. I guess maybe I was suckered by the photos that I'd seen. Were they even of this island?
By the end of the 3 days I was a broken man. Lack of sleep on the back of the same from the Whitsundays trip, too much rum, too much beer, and the hysteria of the driving all built up within me. By the time I left the hostel the day after our return I had made some friends and really needed a break.
What better way than to call up on some people I had met whilst in NZ? Sometimes people give out their details when they're away and ask you to pop in anytime. How many of us actually call on these small favours, in England at least? I decided to do this and met up again with John and Ananta Kolesky whom I met in Doubtful Sound about a month before.
I felt a little awkward before John pulled up in his car as I was nursing a hangover of biblical proportions and did not want him to see me like this, but after downing 2 cans of Coke I felt better and we were off. The first thing we did was prepare John's 14' catamaran and take it out into the bay. My hangover soon evaporated and I was having a great time as we made stately progress towards some of the smaller islands near the bay.
I have never been on a small sailing vessel before and John has sailed since he was small. I believe he even raced boats in the past so he showed me how to do it.
Naturally, I proved that I am as mal-coordinated on water as off and so mastering the art of turning the boat fast, trimming the sails, and ducking the boom all at once left me laying face down on the boat grasping a bit of string wondering what had happened. Had the wind been stronger we would have flipped, but John saw the funny side as he did when I tried to elegantly slip out of the boat into the shallow water and just ended up with my arse in the air and my head under the boat. Such poise.
I had a great time that day though as we really did not do much and it was just the tonic I needed. The strange thing was that at some points at low tide the water in the bay is only a few centimetres deep. We discovered this after running aground and this was when we had to literally get out and push. At one point I was standing a good 2 km from land in the bay going for a wee in the water and, whilst looking all around me, it appeared as if I was standing on the sea. One of my more memorable wees.
That evening I accompanied John to his session in the nets for his local second XI with whom he plays every week in the local league. I met a few of the players and while the standard was good I realised that with some practice even I could play at this level. I bowled a few at some batsmen and even managed to get a small percentage of them on target which pleased me no end. Of the ones on target one of the batsmen said that they "Were not bad". Don't encourage me.
I watched the game the following day and John's team, The Cavaliers, won. It was another great way to spend a day as that morning I had been running errands in his ancient and slightly cranky Land Rover. Upon attempting a hill start I discovered that the hand brake did not work. The people behind me saw the funny side, I think. My nerves were settled by the cricket and the post-match beer.
In all I had such a wonderful weekend there that the events of the past week in Fraser seemed like a distant dream. I suppose I was hazy for most of that time but with some decent food, sleep and activities over this weekend I "came alive" again, like a dry lawn getting water.
Rejuvenated like this I got on the bus to Brisbane Airport and my flight to Tasmania. I took with me some good memories and maybe the chance to come back again some time. It's true what they say, "The best things in life are free". I've just re-read that. It sounds a little syrupy. Never mind.