Australia – Part One

After major budget overruns in New Zealand and Heron Island, it was time to tighten up our expenditures. Take one beautiful country/continent with an abundance of amazing geography and wildlife, add plenty of camping caravan parks, and you have the perfect recipe for low cost adventure.

On a tip from a local chap (the word used for "guy" down here), we found ourselves driving down dirt roads to the tiny villages of 1770, James Cook's first landing point, and Agnes Waters. Expecting quaint, historical coastal towns, we were surprised to find little more than a few houses, a couple of  boats, a store combined with a restaurant, a beach, and of course, two caravan parks. Next to the endless dirt road, we were lucky to observe a group of wild kangaroos feeding and playing in a field, a sight which salvaged an otherwise disappointing first stop. Arriving in Hervey Bay, the gateway to Frasier Island, we were to discover another unfortunate choice: our vehicle. In addition to the many dirt roads you must navigate throughout Australia, some of the most beautiful areas in national parks are only accessible by 4-wheel-drive vehicles (4 WD).

We could not drive on sandy Frasier Island without a 4 WD, the additional rental cost was prohibitive. While deliberating over our Frasier options, we headed off to Nature World and visited with some of Australia's most interesting birds and animals. The animal pictures here, and those of  Elke and me on the main page, were all taken there. We had a great afternoon and finally decided to book a one-day Frasier Island excursion with a local tour company for the next day. Although a little rushed for our taste, the trip gave us opportunities to swim in a perched freshwater lake, drive up and down miles of white beach, hike amongst tree species found only on Frasier, and view the purest breed of Australian wild dogs called Dingo. Frasier Island is the largest sand island in the world with five large fresh water lakes, close to one hundred kilometers of "highway" beaches, and hundreds of more kilometers of inter island sand roads.

After breakfast in a town called Maryborough we stopped in a small computer shop and met a local bloke (another word used for "guy") who recommended we visit Tin Can Bay. He told us that dolphins come into the harbor each morning to be fed by people, and asked us not to spread this local secret. We were skeptical, but with an open agenda decided to check it out. We soon discovered another locality bonus: the Great Sandy National Park was just around the corner. After setting up camp in Tin Can Bay we headed for the park and wound up in Rainbow Beach, another lovely seaside town. We enjoyed a bite of lunch before hiking up to Punna Lake, a tea colored fresh water lake amidst thick rain forest. There we discovered two large iguanas on a tree trunk.

Following much observation and many pictures, we went skinny dipping in the warm waters. The brown color, identical to a cup of fine Lipton tea, is caused by rainwater picking up tannins while flowing through the rain forest vegetation. The next morning, we arrived at the pier by 8:00 am, and sure enough, two rare Indo-Pacific Humpback Dolphins had swum to the boat ramp and were fed by a small group of people. We bought whole fish from a store on the pier and commenced to feeding a 50-year-old female and her two-year-old son. Standing in water up to our knees, we fed the dolphins from our hands. Another amazing animal encounter! Returning once again to the Great Sandy National Park, we hiked on a huge sand blowout reaching down to the ocean. The white, hot sand, deposited by wind over thousands of years, covered all vegetation in a quarter mile square area and created a gigantic sand box. The views down the coastline, from the end of the dune at a high cliff edge, were spectacular. We have many photos to prove it, unfortunately none are digital.

Feeling temporarily satisfied with coastal touring, we decided to head inland to the Great Dividing Range, the mountains separating the eastern interior from the ocean about sixty miles from the coast. The continent's small population, one of Australia's greatest features, equates directly to the existence of vast unspoiled countryside. Everywhere we traveled outside the large cities, inhabitants were few and roads were empty, even more so as we moved away from the coast. The mountains were lush and green with spring growth, and the villages, especially Kensington, where we stopped for lunch, were absolutely charming.

Late in the afternoon we arrived in a town on the edge of the Glass House Mountains. An old gentleman painting on the side of the road assured us that this clear view across the pointy, volcanic peaks was rare. Skies blue, the air crisp and clean, the mountain vistas were spectacular, and we could see all the way to the ocean. Deciding to take advantage of our Top Tourist Park discount card (a "deluxe" caravan park chain we found on the Internet) we drove back to the coast to camp on Bribie Island. The next morning we hiked to the top of Mt. Ngungun for amazing panoramas of the Glass House Mountains, comprised of  five unusually shaped and strangely positioned peaks. We later enjoyed a quick tour of Brisbane, including the Botanical Gardens and city center, before heading on to the coastal suburb of Cleveland.

We were catching the N. Stradbroke Island ferry from there the next morning. Peter, our favorite Heron Island dive staff member, suggested we try to dive the manta ray bommie (large rock formation) at N. Stradbroke Island, a cleaning and feeding station for vast numbers of manta rays. Having seen one at Heron Island, we were very anxious to view them in larger quantities. Following a quick ferry and bus ride we arrived at the dive store in Point Lookout around 10:00 am and met our dive master Dave, an Australian, and Bill and John, two blokes from New Jersey. Dave and Bill had decided to start an adventure travel business, with Australia adventures sold in America. Bill hoped to test the manta ray bommie, one of the planned trip's dive spots. Unfortunately, the Pacific did not cooperate, and huge swells made diving the manta bommie impossible. We only did one dive at Shag Rock, a relatively boring spot. Not prepared for an overnight stay, but not ready to give up either, we decided to stay at the dive store's backpackers accommodations and try again the next day.

We spent the rest of the afternoon hiking the gorge at Point Lookout. A converging spot for two currents, the turbulent waters cut a steep-walled channel out of the sandstone and created other formations off the channel's entrance, one of them with a noisy blow hole (image below left). The swells in the area (image right) were bringing in 30-foot-high waves. We were mesmerized by the rage of the ocean as it pounded into the gorge. The following images don't do the scene justice, but are beautiful nevertheless. Diving with the mantas was not meant to be. The previous day's swells left zero visiblity for the next morning. We continued our travels, hoping to return to the manta bommie one day in the near future.

 Australia Part Two