Fantastic Fraser Island

When Mary Moynihan goes to sleep at night she visualises a magical part of Australia. She explains why

When Mary Moynihangoes to sleep at night she visualises a magical part of Australia. She explains why

WHEN YOU’RE dropping off to sleep, do you have a special place that you visualise? Many pick somewhere tranquil and peaceful – maybe the lake at Glendalough or a beach in west Cork – to help them nod off. My favourite spot is Fraser Island, in Queensland, Australia.

In my semiconscious state I’m standing on its pristine white beach, sand between my toes, throwing my arms skywards, wind in my hair, sun on my face, yelling “It’s great to be alive!”

The plan is that I will visit this magical island in my dreams, then wake up refreshed, and hoping this whole credit-crunch thing was just a bad dream.

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Allow me to fill you in with some information, so that you, too, can sample the island’s delights. The colours are magical, and nature nearly defies logic.

The island is famous for being the world’s largest sand island and the only place where a rainforest grows on sand.

We travelled by ferry the short distance from Hervey Bay, on the mainland, and joined a small group for a four-wheel-drive tour. It’s a rough ride, as the 4x4s bounce along the sandy tracts and on to the 95km of East Beach – the most fantastic beach I have seen.

Waves bash on to its pure silica sands. Unfortunately, it’s no-go for swimming, being home to sharks, rays and the dreaded stinger jellyfish.

As we drove along this sandy highway we spotted an ugly rusty wreck ahead. On closer examination we identified it as Maheno, a ship that ran aground during a cyclone in 1935. It’s a photo opportunity for every passing visitor.

Farther along we saw the Pinnacles, a bizarre eroded sand bank, looking like something from outer space. We stopped at Eli Creek to have a refreshing paddle in its crystal-clear waters.

A little farther north, Indian Head is a great point for spotting sharks in the azure water below. Just inland from the head are Orchid Beach and the Champagne Pools. One can safely swim here among tropical fish in saltwater.

Heading inland, we were taken on a boardwalk through the rainforest. The wooden footpath is to protect the forest floor, but I was very happy to be able to see where our feet were landing, especially as our ranger was a bit dramatic in pointing out the hazards from wildlife.

He had us looking for a large python that had swallowed an animal – maybe a fox cub – but was unable to ingest it because of its size. Unbelievably, we found the snake, with a great bump in its tummy.

Each time I look back at my photograph, I can’t believe I got up so close and personal with a snake, even one that wasn’t a threat as it was suffering from indigestion. (We understand he was healthy a few days later.)

Next stop in the forest was to peer but not touch the home of some deadly funnel-web spiders. (If you’re enjoying your breakfast, please skip the next bit.)

If history is to be believed, loggers were tormented by these spiders as they felled trees. When a logger got bitten, usually on the finger or hand, a workmate had to quickly amputate the infected limb, to prevent the spread of poison. Unfortunately, the surgical tool to hand was usually an axe.

When we looked up between the branches we saw enormous webs created by orb-weaving spiders. Did they need planning permission for such huge structures? Fortunately, these guys are not aggressive, but you wouldn’t want to walk into their webs at night.

Our daughter surprised us by camping in the dunes overnight. This is the same young lady who would scream the house down if she encountered even a tiny spider in our bathroom. I think she did get a bit freaked the next morning, when they found a horrible hairy huntsman spider under their tent.

Happily, the birdlife was amazing: 325 species of bird have been recorded on the island. We were enchanted by a kookaburra that seemed to play hide and seek between the trees with us. Also, the island is renowned for its dingo population; they definitely aren’t pet dogs, and they have been blamed for two fatalities in the past couple of years.

On a tranquil note, we floated in perfect peace in Lake McKenzie, enjoying the radiant turquoise of its water in contrast with the white of the surrounding sand. Awesome.