Moreton Island: Paradise Found

We heard the first bang just after 8pm. Flashes of coloured light just cleared the top of the forest to reveal an early fireworks display. The stretch of beach twinkled with the soft light from glow sticks, candles and fires where jovial groups were celebrating the last hours of 2011.

Across Moreton Bay, the same coloured bursts of light flashed over the mainland and disappeared into the dark water. Staring into the campfire during the moments of stillness, the soothing sound of the ocean was the soundtrack to reflections on the year past, the year ahead or how we were going to stay awake during the three long hours still separating 2011 and 2012.

Jeff and I had arrived that morning, to join my family who, after spending just 5 days camping on Moreton Island already looked like castaways. 

The site they'd chosen certainly had that deserted island feeling, with quiet neighbours on only one side and an empty beach out the front. Unlike most of the rest of the 20 square kilometre island, this stretch of sand was also blissfully four wheel drive free, so we didn't have to look left, then right, then left again before getting out of the crystal clear water.

Embracing island life took us all of 5 minutes in paradise especially since our tent was already set up before we arrived.

That afternoon we went for a long walk along the beach at sunset.

 

A few boats were already safely anchored for the night in preparation for the New Year's Eve celebrations.

As the champagne chilled, we christened our camp stove in the fire, cooking a smoke infused pork roast.

We then waited (or napped in the very comfortable camping chairs!) for midnight. A few minutes before twelve (at least according to us), what was left of the fireworks started to go off and differently timed celebrations of the New Year took place across the island. I always love New Years Eve in the outdoors because the celebrations always vary by a few minutes and the person holding the champagne feels compelled to pop the cork as soon as they hear one go off elsewhere even when the rest of the group is adamant that it's not time yet!

Happy New Year!

Since planning the trip, I couldn't help but reminisce how different this New Year's was going to be to the last one. Twelve months ago we'd rugged up to go for a long walk in the snow, gone bum sliding and ridden in an sleigh. But in some ways, it wasn't that much different.

On this New Years day we were sinking into white sand instead of snow, the gentle rocking motion of the sleigh was replaced by a four wheel drive and we could have even gone bum sliding in The Desert. Really the only difference (well apart from hemispheres and being on a sand island instead of the mountains and not having any vodka) was the temperature, and let me just say I don't really envy anyone their winter.

Bring on swimming in the beautiful Blue Lagoon any time!

 And ocean sunsets, while cooking sausages over the fire.

The following morning my family had to leave camp at the ungodly hour of 4:45am after packing up the tents, to catch a 6am barge home.

We were fortunate enough to be staying another night and after a burst of packing energy we were left camp-less and waiting to join our friends who were arriving on the island in the afternoon. Seeing as lots of effort surely begets no effort at all, after another long walk during sunrise, we "waited" for them on the beach.

At 3:55am it had started raining and this pattern was left in the sand. Luckily it turned out to be a beautiful day.

Despite doing the absolute bare minimum and being spoilt rotten by our friends with delicious cooking that evening and the following day, the rest of our stay passed in a blur. Between swimming and snorkeling at The Wrecks, eating, playing with the kids and just staring at the water wondering how it can possibly be so clear, it was soon time for us to board our barge and head back to Brisbane.Why does that always happen?

From the vantage point of the top deck, I looked across the clear water to the rusting wrecks that the sun was slowly turning orange and I remembered this parting moment. Although it had been more than ten years since I'd been to the island, the pang I'd felt countless times on regular visits throughout my teenage years was the same. And Moreton Island asked me the same question that it always does as the boat pulled away from the beach. When will you be back?

Everyone loved looking at the massive container ships in the Port of Brisbane

Sea Kayaking: A New Adventure Begins

It’s been a while. And I’m sure you’ve been worried that perhaps we’ve succumbed to the temptation to stay home. That during the past few months of silence we’ve only been renovating, meditating and watching the grass grow.

You have been thinking about us haven’t you?

Well, actually we have been watching the grass grow because our lawn mower is broken. I have also been meditating, mostly on how to do the crane yoga arm balance and a chin up. But not at the same time. And yes, we have also been renovating: we have a driveway.

Perhaps the last bit has been the most exciting, as we’ll never get bogged in our own driveway again. Really, the first time we got stuck, with mud splattered all over the car, it was funny.

When a cement truck got bogged in the same spot a couple of weeks later and needed a second truck it get him out it was a hoot. Plus, while he waited for his mate to come get him out, the cement truck driver showed us how to finish our concrete slab properly. Very helpful.

But when we managed to get two vehicles stuck on the same night, two days before we left on our three and a half month trip, the joke had worn thin.

But I digress and not simply to distract you from the fact that it looks like we haven’t done anything in over two months. Actually, since the end of winter we have been busy scheming and planning new adventures, this time in sea kayaks. We’ve had a double boat for a long time now - actually it was our very first joint purchase - but it wasn’t suited for the ocean, which we’ve always wanted to explore.

So after years of putting off doing anything about it, we finally bought to two single Wilderness Systems Tempest 170’s. Initially we’d planned to go with another double, since our first kayak had never lived up to its reputation of being a divorce boat. Arguably that could be because we bought it well before we were married, but in any case the reason for buying two singles over a double boiled down to safety. If one of us fell out, it would be easier to do an assisted rescue than having two swimmers and a double kayak full of water.

Kayaking 101
Next up, I decided we needed some lessons. When we’d first bought the double we’d done pretty much what everyone else does when they start kayaking, namely jump into the boat, paddle a bit and call yourself proficient. But as with everything else in life, you don’t know what you don’t know until someone more qualified than you points out that you know nothing.

So despite kayaking for around 9 years we had to start at the very beginning of kayaking 101: learning to do the basic stroke properly. Which is to say that the lesson was a huge success. The highlight was probably when we tipped the kayak over, ending up hanging in the water up side down and calmly tapping the hull three times with our hands before getting out.

Where is my kayaking going!?!
A few weeks later, now knowing that we had an awful lot to learn, we took delivery of our brand new boats.

The first paddle was scheduled for The Spit at the Gold Coast and unfortunately my kayak and I did not bond very well.

When we had trailed a few kayaks before buying, the Tempest 170 had handled beautifully and we’d both decided pretty quickly that this was the boat for both of us. There was just one little catch: the steering system. There are two types in kayaks; a rudder or a skeg and it’s an issue that seems to divide kayakers all around the world almost to the extent of religion or politics (or maybe that's just internet forums for you!). Technically neither is actually for steering though. They are used to counter weathercocking, which is a boat's natural tendency to turn into the wind. 

The way I see it is that anyone can paddle a kayak with a rudder. Hey we did for 9 years in complete oblivion of the fact that there are other ways to make a kayak go the way you want it to! Skegs on the other hand require actual paddling technique. And while the Tempest is really awesome anyway, I couldn't help but relish the "little" challenge thrown in by way of mastering skeg boat handling. Apparently, stupid challenges are right up my alley. Just ask Jeff about cycling over the Crown Range in New Zealand.

Unfortunately, on our first outing, skill was something I was clearly lacking. While the natural-at-all-things-physical mastered the art of going in a straight line, all I could do was go left, regardless of the wind or current and I hadn’t even discussed politics with my kayak yet!

Mind you, tracking in a straight line didn’t manage to save Jeff from being soaked by a jet skier in the middle of the channel. Thanks Gold Coast.

Great Summer Paddles Ahead
Luckily the following day, I managed to sort my left veer out – in the kayak not politics – in a much calmer environment and it’s been more or less smooth paddling since.

We had another lesson in perfect conditions at Caloundra, probably spending more time in the water than in the kayaks while attempting to surf the waves into shore.

Yeah, I know those waves look small....

And with more perfect conditions, we did a quick early morning paddle from Woody Point up to Redcliffe.

See the conditions were really calm to get this rare on water photo. Interestingly, non waterproof cameras and water don't mix. 

You know, with so many islands to explore in Moreton Bay, I doubt our grass will get mowed at all this summer!

Source: Google Maps

Cooloola Great Walk: Part Two

Dutgee to Brahminy
On the fourth morning heavy dew dampened our tent, as mist sat in the valley before the sun rose.

With the Cooloola Sandpatch crossing ahead of us that day, we wanted to set of early to avoid being ‘in the desert’ at midday, even though it was a shame to leave such a pretty spot. 

It's delicious. But that's not how you make porridge!

By the time we got to the sandpatch after winding our way along the Noosa River and then joining the track up the hill, it was almost lunchtime and the sun was pretty fierce. After glimpses of the view through the vegetation on the way up, we got a stunning panorama across Cooloola. Dumping our packs on the sand we went for an exploratory wander to look at the view across Lake Cootharaba.

After climbing up over the sandy ridge we finally saw the ocean again.

Despite the warnings regarding navigating through ‘the dessert’ we had no trouble although at times I wondered if I’d lost my marbles anyway. In the very middle of this exposed, harsh environment, we heard the constant call of whipbirds, which are normally a rainforest species. Of course they were coming from the forest just on the other side, but it still seemed a little surreal.

"We are going...thadaway"

The name ‘Rainbow Beach’ comes from the coloured sands of the towering sand dunes near the town and on the ocean side the sand patch was pretty mix of coloured streaks.

Footprints in the sand

We'd already met a few groups along the walk, who had been intrigued by the fact we were walking North to South rather than the South-North way the trail was written. The very technical reason for this was that by the time we'd booked the campsites, a walking group had already filled all the spots on the days we were after. So grudgingly we booked in the other direction, while I worried that all the great views would probably be at our back. A couple of days in we crossed paths with the walking group and explained they were the reason we were going about the walk backwards. While apologising, they also pointed out that we would have fewer up hill stretches. And how right they were. The sandpatch crossing was all downhill, our backs to the sun and the ocean ahead. We really appreciated this when at the bottom of the sandpatch, we met two men, who were just about to start their way up the sand.  

Later that day, we finally got the views that had initially tempted us to do that walk in first place. From the ridge we could see all the way from Double Island Point to Noosa.

Where we came from.

Where we are going

A few days earlier, we’d met a group who’d managed to spot whales from that spot, so we waited for a while, but with no luck.

'Here looks like a good spot'

The final nights campsite was in spectacular spot, with 180 degree views spanning from the ocean to the lake. We thought it would be all ours, until a couple of guys turned up just before sunset. Dropping their packs on the benches, they immediately set about the task of drinking beer they’d carried all the way up the hill with them.

After looking at the stars that evening, we left them still on the benches while we went to our tent. The next morning the heavy dew had saturated their sleeping bags, while they had slept under the stars. It turns out they didn’t have a tent with them. At least they got a great view of the mist covering the lake as the sun came up.

Brahminy to Tewantin
From our lovely perch up on the hill, we started to descend down to the beach and towards Noosa on the last day. Just like the previous couple of days we were still surrounded by spring flowers, but this time there was also a great view.

 At the last lookout, before the rapid descent we marvelled at the massive stretch of water all around and how close they were to each other.

Lake Cootharaba

Noosa in the distance

The previous day I’d been very excited to spot a red-belly black that had slithered off the trail as we approached. On the last day, we got an even better view. This time, the snake didn’t even move despite the fact I’d stepped less than half a metre from its tail. Judging it to be an Eastern Brown Snake – a very aggressive variety and also the second most venomous snake in the world – we stood looking straight into its reptilian eyes. Head raised, it fixed us with an unblinking stare. We waited, staring at each other until finally it relented and slithered out of our way.

A few hours later, we finally stepped onto the beach, this time so close to Noosa I could almost taste the gelato that awaited us there. After just a kilometre on the sand, the track headed inland again to end of the trail and the bus stop.