We arrived at the hostel at 6:20am not only feeling tired but also a little apprehensive of what laid ahead, with good reason as it turned out. The rest of the group started to appear from their beds shortly after our arrival, some looking like they had a hard night and only just got in.
Our briefing was a video by the Queensland government explaining how to drive on sand, some basic driving rules on the island and pictures of previous accidents that had plagued the island in recent years. As we were to find out driving on sand is not easy and if done incorrectly and at speed its very easy to turn over the car, with many of the accidents that have killed people involving rolling the vehicle on the main beach. To hammer the point home the video even showed a Policeman with a speed gun standing on the beach, warning of heavy fines if caught. After the video and an extremely short briefing by Worm (which involved more senseless mocking of the Irish including a pitiful attempt at the accent) we packed the vehicles with the bags of food, cool box, our clothes bags and of course, enough alcohol to sink a small ship, and then we were off.
Our tool of choice for this adventure would be a modified 10 year old Toyota Landcruiser that had been fitted with a hightop. I couldn't work out whether this was due to it being a 4x4 campervan in a previous life or whether it was a safety feature to stop you banging your head as you fly over the very big bumps on the island. I was nominated to drive first and so off we headed to the port.
The transfer to the island was by barge and involved reversing the Landcruiser down a steep narrow ramp onto the boat. Worm came to the window “Right Uncle Bill, do you understand left hand down, right hand down?” and then warned us that the loader on the barge was an idiot and would shout at those that could follow these simple instructions. Mushroom (?) as he was called seemed fine and we all loaded without incident, although my new nickname would lose its appeal quickly!
After a 40 minute barge journey we arrived on the island, put the car into 4 wheel drive and sped off at 60km along the narrow tracks they call roads. With so many vehicles ploughing across the island the tracks are deeply rutted meaning that most of the time it was more like driving a train as the wheels followed the previous vehicles tracks. However every so often the back end of the car would step out towards the large trees that line the tracks abruptly reminding you of the constant attention required and not to be lulled into a false sense of security.
We soon arrived at our first stop, Central Station, no not a train station but a wood cabin that was used by loggers when logging was still allowed on the island. Worm led us on a tour of the site, telling us how boring this bit was, pointing out water, trees and ridiculing the other tour parties who seemed to be getting a bit of the history of the place and how the island came about. When we got back to the cars we changed drivers and headed for Eurong a small conurbation with a shop, bakery, hostel and the islands only petrol station to pick up the camp trailer. With such an early start and some still nursing fairly substantial hangovers everyone darted for the bakery and filled up on meat pies, donuts and coffee. It was devoured by most like it was the last meal they were going to have for a while. Once the trailer was sorted we made our way up the main highway of the island, a 74 mile beach to find a campsite and drop the trailer. 74 mile beach (creative with their naming aren’t they!) runs the entire length of the island and is the only way to get from top to bottom. The beach operates as a two lane highway with speed limits up to 80 km per hour and also is an airstrip for light aircraft. Along with the usual beach type traffic of bathers and fishermen and the odd ship wreck, the constant stream of traffic and landing aircraft makes it an interesting drive.
Worm found us a suitable camp spot just behind a sand dune and so dropped the trailer and continued us on our way to the first must see of the island, Lake Wabby. We parked on the beach next to the path, then Worm pointed in the general direction and barked “Stay on the path and be back by 16:00”. He was just so informative, that’s what we really loved about him! With towel in hand we all made our way several kilometres inland, finally reaching a range of large sand dunes. At the end of these was a fresh water lagoon which was slightly green due to dead vegetation from the surrounding trees, but still provided an alluring swimming opportunity.
As the group was still getting to know each other we all picked spots some way apart and started to prepare to go swimming. The first in was a tall Italian gentlemen. His entrance to the water was soon watched by everyone there as their attention had been caught by the loud call of one the Irish lads of “Spee Do!” It was very funny, but not understood by the other Italians as apparently speedos are completely fashionable swimming attire over there!
After a relaxing time swimming and just lazing in the sun, we returned to the 4x4 and drove back to the campsite for the night. Worm started to unpack the trailer while everyone stood around wondering what to do. After 20 minutes of waiting for something to do I went over and asked what we could do to help. He looked at me as if I had just asked him to create a new dance move then realising I was serious he started to allocate jobs out to people. First the tents needed putting up, so he showed a few of us how to do it and then we went round and set up the rest. Next the dinning area was set up and then the kitchen itself.
As soon as the BBQ and cooking area was ready the Italians took possession only missing tanks to secure their cordon and refused to let anyone else near the area until they had cooked a sumptuous meal (compared to the rest of us). This meant we had nothing else to do but sit around and slowly get drunk. Yes, terrible isn’t it! Eventually a space was cleared and the Irish lads claimed squatter rights and cooked their 3 bits of steak for 3 minutes and left to devour their still raw meal washing it down with 24 cans of beer and the bottle of Jack Daniels. They said they were pacing themselves as the 24 litres of wine was kept for the last night!
Eventually everyone got a chance to use the cooking facilities sharing the space as it become available. Then came the great tent debate. When we had booked the trip they had kindly told us we could share a tent to ourselves as we where the only couple on the trip, however when we came to allocate the tents there was only just enough for the group with us having to share with one other person from the Italian group, as they quite rightly gave a tent to the Irish Mum and Dad. We were more than happy to share, but we had obviously been too overly affectionate with each other in public because it seemed to put off anyone else wanting to share a tent with us! After much whispering amongst the Italians, maybe having to draw straws as to who was going to be with us, the five of them decided in the end to shared a tent built for 4 whilst we had one to ourselves.
Not long after dinner was out of the way, Worm disappeared to bed and the group started to chat and get to know each other better, however interestingly the main topic of conversation seemed to be Worm. It transpired that no one liked him very much and everyone was annoyed that he didn’t make any effort to tell us what was going on or what the plans were. The Irish lads who were constantly the brunt of his attempts at humour were talking about putting food in his tent to attract the Dingos who roamed the island and there were some unrepeatable comments made about how he might of lost his leg and how he might lose the other one soon. You could say they were not fans!
Emma and I departed to our bed relatively early as we had run out of red wine but for the rest, the party was just getting started and it looked like it was going to get messy.
Stay tuned for the next exciting episode!
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