Day 78: Fraser Island

Sunday 21st February 

4x4 Warrior- a truck with huge wheels and passenger compartment- onto Fraser Island via the barge.

World's largest sand island, explore beaches, forest, rainforests, lakes, native and industrial history, ship wreck, and then some rain!

Distance: 370km

Total Distance:12492km

Having taken a bus out of Brisbane we were met by our formidable transport, a Warrior 4x4. Designed and built in Scandinavia it has been modified with larger tyres and a passenger compartment so that one can travel up and over and sand one sees fit. Thus we went over the sandy peninsula and out to the barge. A steel craft in green, simple, stout, a ramp at either end and enough deck to fit us alongside a troop of Utes and Land Rovers. We were twice the height of anything there. And twice the length. And somewhat wider too. After a very short journey of 15 minutes we disembarked on Fraser Island, the world's largest sand island.

I was expecting a giant sand bank, maybe a few palm trees, some bushes. It's far larger than that! We hit the local highway, generally known as a beach, and passed dense forests. This carried on for over an hour. Sandy beach. Waves from the Pacific. A forest built on sandbanks.

Eventually we reached the one town on the island. There are a few tourist enclosures here, but this is the only town, though it mostly caters for the tourist trade. We passed over an electrified cattle grid and high fences. These aren't to keep livestock in or out. These are for the Dingoes.

The Australian Dingo has been on the continent for around 4000 years. Descended from south East Asian wolves it somehow got here. Over time it became its own species, a dog-like hunter and scavenger. Fraser Island has around 200 patrolling the beaches, forests, and lakes. They are something of an asset for the tourist trade. But also a danger. Whilst this is perhaps the best place to see a wild dingo one does want to be careful. They have been known to be aggressive, especially with a history of feeding. Settlements and picnic area have the fences, gates, and grids to keep them out. The grids had to be electrified as dingoes are (obviously) smarter and more nimble than cattle.

We left town to go up to Lake Mackenzie. There are three types of lake in the island. Window lakes- holes in the sand that are deep enough to be below the water table. Dams- were a shifting dune has moved over the path of a creek (sand beavers!). Finally depressions- on dunes some of the sand can be scooped out. If this bowl filled with enough debris an impermeable layer can form preventing rain water from falling through the sand. Without an outflow the area fills. This is Lake Mackenzie. A blue lagoon atop a dune, surrounded by a dense forest of brush and tall, straight trees. The water goes down to 12 metres at its deepest. With no inlet/outlet virtually nothing lives in the waters, though this also makes pollution a real risk- nothing gets washed away. Amazing place though, beautiful clear warm waters. The shore is also made up of fine white sand. Apparently it's rejuvenating to smear it on you skin. Forgive me for laughing at the 3 spoilt brats we have in the group. You know the sort, won't join group games, communicate in snide comments, can't possibly get dirty. They were sat on the shore liberally plastering themselves in this stuff whilst the rest of us played in the waters. 

We stopped off at Central Station next. This has once been the centre of custom built railway for getting timber from the centre of the island. The timber here was both incredibly unusual and valuable- for 30 years no one in the trade even believed the reports of trees growing so well on a sand island. That sand prevents the trees having a solid foundation. They are therefore forced to grow in such a manner as to keep nearly all of their weight perfectly centred above the point they grow from. The trunks run straight and tall without imperfections. Long straight timbers can thus be cut from them. One of the trees was even found to be from the terpentine family. The compounds within it prevent rotting even when left underwater for long periods. This makes it valuable for creating docks and waterways, though it is much heavier and harder to harvest. Once found it was used in a rebuild of London docks and to line the Suez Canal. It's still there now.

At the station we had a walk around. They've built replica of the woodman's family homes. There some of the wheels they used on the tracks- they had to be wider, as did the tracks, to prevent the lines sinking into the sand. A board walk leads through the forest. Out guide explained the trees, plants, and history of the place. We passed a few walkers too. Would be a nice lace to come walking. It's possible to walk from one end of the island to the other. Only takes 7 days. Then you have to walk back. I wonder if there's a water taxi you can get?

Back down to the beach and the rain came in! It started thundering down at us, lashing against the bus. We were introduced the the local ship wreck. She's an steel ship used as a luxury craft between Sydney and NZ, then a hospital ship during the war, an after a few years back at home before being sold as scrap, lost in a storm, deposited here, then used as target practice by the military forces. Exciting life story! Now mostly under the sand we could just see the rusted remains in the whistling wind and fierce rain. Still, I'd been swimming, so was already for getting wet!

The rain didn't relent at our penultimate stop either. Just a little creek for us to slowly paddle down. Only a few of us were again in the rain. It was actually beautiful and pleasant slowly swimming down through the overhanging vines and brush as he rain patterned down. Rain? It's only going to make things better! Can you tell I'm from Britain?

Out accommodation for the evening was at a place called Happy Valley. Beyond the dingo fences were a number of small houses and the pub we'd be staying at. I love staying at pubs- don't even have to walk home. Still, we were all knackered by 8pm. It was only by group effort that we decided to stay up until 9. Thank goodness we did. I got chatting to our driver-guide. Great guy. Used to be a zoo keeper. Then he helped breed reptiles for zoo collections. Helped out on croc farms at times. Done wildlife work. Owns a number of lizards and snakes now, his wife has alpacas, plus there's the dogs and cats. Great guy. Even if he did play us 70s disco throughout the day.

Day 39: Invercargill to Stewart Island

Wednesday 13th January 

Took the ferry to Stewart Island (I've left the South Island!) and landed on the birders paradise.

Distance: Bus to Bluff, 29km, Ferry ~40km

Total Distance: 5121km

There was a German kid going from the Southern Comfort hostel to Stewart Island so we set out together on a boring, neither grey nor blue, morning to take the bus out to Bluff. Along the way we chatted about our plans- like me he was going to do the little three day "Great Walk" of Stewart Island.

At the ferry our bags were packed away into large steel tubs and hoisted on board. We followed onto the little craft and found seats in the cabin with a table.

The start was rough, having to get out of the swell around Bluff before getting into the only slightly less turbulent Foveaux Strait. Outside the winds wiped up the surf as the boat hammered through the waves. We headed outside for photos and to try our sea legs, whilst chatting about how we were finally leaving the South Island and joking that we'd better look after the complimentary sick bags just in case.

Within an hour we reached the calmer waters of Stewart Island to disembark and set foot on a new land. There were already a multitude of birds in the sky and forest surrounded the little township of Oban, the one small community here.

We found our hostel, then went out to find the Department of Conservation building, getting the tickets for our walk accommodation. I dropped in to organise a ferry for the next day to Ulva Island, the largest island in the inlet by Oban, now virtually cleared of rats and deemed the best bird sactuary in the area.

The Kai Kart is on the next street serving the best Fish and Chips in all New Zealand. No kidding, we went for lunch and it was glorious. The seagulls looked at us expectantly as we tucked in, leaving nothing for them. The Germans in the hostel are presently talking about them as I write (in German- I'm able to get a few of the words, like "Fish und Chips")

We couldn't help laughing over lunch at the number of cars here. 400 people inhabit Oban. It's the only settlement on the island. There's maybe, including every side street, a total of 50km of road here, with the maximum travel distance between two places maybe being 10km, though Oban's only about 1/2km across the main centre. Yet there looks to be 200 cars. WHERE IS EVERYONE GOING??

Kind of surprised they haven't all just chipped in to buy 10 utes to leave for anyone wanting to move anything heavy. Not like anyone's going to steal them. I can understand the people further out having cars. I'm sure there's good reason for the rest, but still.

It's such a small place. And it's filled with cars! Half of them must be doing 2km per day! Oh well.

My German friend was starting the walk the next day so he went to pack as I went for a nap. I hit the hay pretty hard and was awake just in time to make it next door to the island's cinema. Yeh, they have a cinema. A proper one. Small, but it has proper seats and a decent screen. They have short-film festivals and every day at 11am, 2pm, and 4pm show a 40 minute film about the island and its history, presented by the cinema owner's dog, Lola. In the foyer Lola sits patiently for photos and cuddles- there's a hall of fame of her with such big names as Prince Harry. Before the show started a couple of people lined up to use the "make your own popcorn" machine before Lola rang her a little bell, relieved a thin slice of carrot as a treat, and we all went to find our seats.

The film revolved around "stories from the pub", going back as far as when the Maori arrived, through early days of whaling, sealing, and forestry, to the setting up on Oban. For a while Stewart Island wasn't actually part of New Zealand. No one really noticed this for years. The islanders brought supplies in from Sydney and life went on. Yet without checks at the port into Oban, and no checks from Oban to the main islands there was a loop hole. This was used by a local Maori to smuggle in gunpowder and guns which were traded to Maori on the main islands, so that they could have the advantage in intertribal wars. The initial attempt to stop this failed due to the legal loophole. Thus the island had to be bought by New Zealand from the Maori, with certain exceptions in laws such as allowing the continued traditional harvest of Mutton Birds by the local tribe, and protection for the rest. And thus Stewart Island became part of New Zealand.

There were attempts her to farm cattle and sheep, but these weren't profitable. The locals funded and built there own fish processing plant, enabling the local catch to be frozen for export on the island, making this business significantly more profitable for the island. Now there are fish and mussel farms, as well as the summer tourism, which is built up around the fact that nearly the entire island is a reserve hosting the country's rarest birds, including 50,000 kiwi, and off shore the one island to still have Kakapo.

That evening I walked around nearly all of the paths on the western side of Oban, seeing the wharf where I would be leaving for Ulva Island the next day, and a few of the birds still flying around.

As I arrived back at the hostel I was met by a phenomenal sight- everyone was in the garden and surrounded by one of New Zealand's parrots, the Kaka. The large birds were taking food off the table and people's hands as we all took photos.

Photo from Google images. Sorry, none on my phone, only camera. If anyone wants to sponsor an upgrade to tech that allows for transfers I'm all for it

Pretty Pictures from the Coppermine Road Tracks

I'm going to keep this short so that I can post lots of lovely photos for you all. This is a walk I've been wanting to do for a while. It lies on the far side of a range of mountains from where I live & work, but is relatively easy to drive to due to the Manuatu Gorge that runs through the mountain range. Apparently its the only gorge to run right through a mountain range in the world.

The majority of tracks in the New Zealand wilderness have been made by hunters and loggers, but, as seen in Taranaki, some have been created by miners. This track is another one of those, in an area that has small amounts of Copper. I will shortly add videos and pics with a short history of the place here, but for now here's lots of pretty pictures. (Click on one to get a slide show)