Last of Fraser..

To finish up my summary of Fraser Island:

After leaving Lake MacKenzie and making our way out of the inlet tracks alive, we spotted some of our first Dingo's (wild dog looking things) of the trip. Dingos are known to be dangerous and have been known to attack in the name of food. The little fellas were running along the beach near our truck. Never did get a decent picture of one because they weren't as eager to get close to us as we were with it.

We continued driving north until we arrived at the Maheno shipwreck. This 10 ton hunk of rust is an actual large ship that has been beached on the island since 1935. It was an old war ship that had been declared unusable and was being towed to Japan for scrap metal, when a cyclone took the ship ashore where it now resides. This thing is as massive and cool as it looks in the photos. Its completely rusted throughout with about half it filled with sand. Blue crabs seemed to have made it their home, because everywhere I turned I them crawling all over it. We stuck around for about an hour, just walking around taking pictures and unlawfully climbing on the ship to get closer looks. The sun was beginning to set and we left to our next camp sight; Camp K'Gari.

K'Gari is an aboriginal ran camp site that's known for approachable dingos, unruly campers, and aboriginal dancing performances. The spirit of the aboriginal culture is in full force on this camp ground. The resident aboriginals dressed up in their paint and preformed a cabaret for us. The 60ish camp guests all joined in the body painting and dancing around the fire. I even volunteered to do some sort of dance in front of everyone to show my good spirit. Haha, I'm completely sure I looked absolutely ridiculous...but hey, who can say they've danced a sacred aboriginal dance before? I can. The next morning, we were all slightly miserable because of the late night rain that fell. Most of us and our gear was completely soaked, but we had to suck it up and keep going to finish our last day. By this time, a fair amount of us were still wearing the same clothes we left in and were running on three days shower less.

Our final stop of the trip was to Eli Creek, a fresh water creek that led straight into the ocean. Man this water felt amazing that day. The clear blue water was freezing cold and gave us the shock we needed to wake us all up. The creek was about 2 feet deep and just perfect to halfway float down to the ocean opening.

Heading back down the beach 60km to our barge wasn't the best ride. Some of us were getting slightly cranky and the swaying truck didn't ease the nerves any. We'd done such a great job at not getting stuck yet during our trip. Which was very surprising seeing how we'd frequently pass trucks that were scary deep in the sand. Trying to leave Eli Creek was our first hiccup, we were stuck. Not bad though. I had everyone get out and give a slight push while I put the bad boy in 4low and used my Mario Andretti skills to get us out of the rut.

Remembering that the first part of our drive when landing on the island was easily the roughest and most dangerous part, we had to make a decision to make a go for that route and try to beat the tide, or to take the inlet road 18km to the ferry. We were told the inlet road was very rough and that it'd "Rattle the fillings outta ya teeth." To much discussion and debate, we chose the safe bet and took the inlet road, avoiding the beach drive for the last 18km. Getting stuck on beach on this last bit as the tide was almost fully in would result in the truck literally being washed away to sea. Well perfect, not a worry in the world...not a chance for us to get stuck or washed away into the ocean, it's all smooth sailing for here I thought. By this time everyone was pretty sick of the terrible driving that took place for the day and I ended up back in the driver seat for the last bit. And wouldn't you know, just as I'm leaving the beach where the sand was soft and waiting for another victim to get stuck, I pull up to the point where the beach meets the inlet road and BAM. I'm stuck. Perfect. I'm such an idiot. I tried to get the truck unstuck, but I just dug us deeper and deeper until almost the entire front tires were under the sand and the engine block was siting on the ground. This could be awful. We may not see another passing car for hours since the tide is rising up. Yet luckily a Toyota pulled up and offered to help us out. Such a saint this guy was. He had his tow straps and was very friendly and helpful. He got about a 3 metre head start until the rope got taught and completely jerked us out of the sand. I was very close to loosing control and taking a terrible skid in the rock wall to our left, but luck was on my side. Our only big stuck of the trip and it was easily corrected by a random Australian who was on the island for a fishing trip.

Our last battle of the trip was after we arrived back the mainland and had to cross the beach to the bitumen (pavement). Right ahead of us were two trucks stuck...and stuck deep. We weren't going anywhere. They had the entrance blocked up. So while they were digging thereselves out, we all got out and made lunch and watched. Haha, maybe not the most friendliest thing to do. But this was nothing compared to what we next did. You have to note that this was the same truck that only a day ago Angel and I mooned while they were stuck in the inlet tracks. So they already weren't impressed with our cocky attitudes. They all had long angry faces that screamed "GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

Our time started running out and we had to get the truck back to the hostel before we got penalized. There was one little opening next to the two axel-deep stuck trucks that we could shoot through if we felt like we could make it. Why not. So I hopped into the drivers seat and we all buckled up tight cause I put the sucker in 4wd high and picked up speed. I was planning on NOT getting stuck this time, and in the mean time show the other trucks how America does things. We were getting closer and we were all anxious and excited to see what would happen when we hit the soft sand. I started laughing and yelling out "COME OOOON! COOOOOMMMMEE ONN!!!" Everyone else joins in and starts hollering. The other trucks can hear us yelling and carrying on as we get closer. Our engine is roaring loudly close to redline. I hit the soft sand and immediantly lose about 15km/h and begin to bog down. But we are all still chanting and giving the truck the moral support it needs. Next thing I know we're about half way through the deep sand and I can see the bituman ahead. I look out the window at the stuck trucks and taunt them as i'm inching my way through the sand to the end. We only BARELY make it out of the sand...but we made it out without getting suck. Everyone cheers and laughs. We couldn't help ourselfs. We knew we had the best car with the best passangers.


We arrived back to the hostel and returned the vehicle where it luckily passed the mechanics inspection, so we all received our bonds back. The trip was officially a success. Fraser island was conquered.