We traveled for hours by plane/bus/shuttle to get to the hostel that organizes and runs our trip to the island. We purchase alcohol from a bottle shop and play kings until we gradually fade off into bed. I sleep in a room with Sammy, and wake up feeling pretty much refreshed. We figure out our accomodation for the next night and then troupe towards the beach at Hervey Bay for a much needed breakfast stop. After pancakes or omlette or idle chatter, it's the beach for the day. We spend our time weathering blinding sunshine and cool squalls as the tide ebbs out, watching the rain fade in and out of the distance
Back at the hostel, we shower and head to a bottle shop, where we purchase a total of 11 casks of boxed wine for our upcoming 3 days camping on the Island. (aside: in oz, boxed wine is referred to exclusively as "goon") Our takeout chinese food takes an hour longer than we expect for delivery. We finish out the night with another resoundingly ridiculous game of kings, and turn in early in anticipation of our 6am wakeup. The morning finds us delerious and hungry with nothing to comfort us (especially not the goon we're about to carry around for three days). We get briefings, we get our vehicles, we get our equiptment, we get our food. We are off to board the ferry.
{{{{and now, since i'm sick of talking in the present tense, i'm switching it up.}}}}
Zach saved our lives pretty much via his skillz at the manual-shift 4wd. We travel to Fraser on a 45-minute ferry ride, and trundle off the barge onto the sandy roadways with newly depressed tires and hopes into the sky. I won't forget that first moment when we saw the paths leading into the island; it looked like someone had turned a small steep wooden themepark rollercoaster into something that was supposed to be a road. Thankfully, it proved to be amongst the more challenging parts of maneuvering (right up there with the beach washouts and really, really deep sand to get stuck in). That first day of travel was filled with-- us, seated 4 against 4 in the back of the station-wagon-like boot of Roxanne, yelling and laughing and wincing over the ridiculous terrain of the rough road and the ridiculous lack of suspension in Roxanne's chassis (I mean, we named her Roxanne for a reason). After an apprehensive and amusing hour, we found ourselves on the shores of Lake Mackenzie. I swear to god i can still taste how the water of the lake tasted, warm and rainy as I splashed and exalted in the endless blue filtered by black carbon and white silicon. As we left, we watched a perfect rainbow creep towards us across the lake up to the beach until we were soaked by a downpour.
The ride was pretty bumpy, and we were seriously packed in, with backpacks supplementally hanging down from the storage compartment flaps above and whacking us in the face. It didn't work to capture it wish flash...
(there we go. trial and error is key.)
After Mackenzie, we happened upon this absurdly steep path up a sand dune, and ran around on the top for a while. The view of the ocean from the highest part of the dune (essentially a mountain) was beautiful. The dune stretched on forever.
Our drive on that first day on the Island ended on the highway of 75 Mile Beach. I sat in the back of the back...and that was alright with me
Roxanne's headlights lit us up at the campsite while we cooked hot dogs, chicken dogs, and grilled cheeeeeez
and the beach at night, letting the allegedly very dangerous ocean hit our feet. after an hour of watching the clouds drift in like black sentinels beneath a glowing starry sky, there wasn't much that could spook us, really.
i woke up all achy in our pitch-black tent, damp and sandy and needing to pee. i had no idea that it wasn't even 6am yet, but once i saw the sky there was no way i was crawling back into the cavelike tent. those of you who have seen me in the morning will understand best how beautiful it must have been in order to keep me from sleep.
after everyone got up and drank naaasty instant coffee, we were driving again. we stopped to see the wreck of the ship Maheno, which has been sitting on the beach since it washed ashore in 1935. It was incredible-- juxtaposed against the shiny bright beach and sky, all guts and iron bones jutting defiantly from the silty sand.
this photo was an accident:
this next was taken from the top of an outcrop called Indian Head, a tall rock that is part of the reason that the island was able to form; volcanic rock outcrops caught sand drifting down from the northern coasts of Australia. over the course of about 1,000,000 years, parabolic dunes overlapped each other down and down to the south. This particular very narrow cliff that the following picture was taken from was dizzyingly high, dropping off sharply to crashing waves on either side
(maybe this will help to show how goddam beautiful/expansive this beach was)
(a video in which kangaroo meat is discussed, sammy imitates some girl, and rachael spills her wine (surprise surprise) )
