Box Jelly Fish.
Irukandji Jellyfish.
Blue Ringed Octopus.
Cone Shells.
Lion Fish.
Stone Fish.
Sea Snakes.
Sting Rays.
Try Fraser Island.
Four Wheel Driving.
Fishing.
Angler’s Advice.
Fish: Tailor .
Fish: Dart .
Fish: Bream.
Fish: Whiting.
Fish: Flathead.
Fish: Jewfish.
Of course, many more varieties are there for the taking, including mackerel, tuna, and reef fish. And if you’re not indisposed to a bit of sea fishing, you can book a berth on one of the larger boats launched to take advantage of the red emperor, coral trout, maori cod and parrot to be found off the Continental Shelf and local reefs.
Water Sports.
Whale and Dolphin Watching.
Tips & Reminders.
How Much?
The Australian mountain forests are funereal, secret, stern. Their solitude is desolation. They seem to stifle in their black gorges a story of sullen despair. No tender sentiment is nourished in their shade. In other lands the dying year is mourned, the falling leaves drop lightly on his bier. In the Australian forests no leaves fall. The savage winds’ shout among the rock clefts, from the melancholy gums strips of white bark hang and rustle. The very animal life of these frowning hills is either grotesque or ghostly. Great gray kangaroos hop noiselessly over the coarse grass. Flights of white cockatoos stream out shrieking like evil souls. The sun suddenly sinks, and the mopokes burst out into horrible peals of semi-human laughter. The natives aver that when night comes, from out the bottomless depths of some lagoon the Bunyip rises, and in form like a monstrous sea-calf, drags his loathsome length from out the ooze. From a corner of the silent forest rises a dismal chant, and around a fire, dance natives painted like skeletons. All is fear-inspiring and gloomy. No bright fancies are linked with the memories of the mountains. Hopeless explorers have named them out of their sufferings—Mount Misery, Mount Dreadful, Mount Despair. As when among sylvan scenes in places
“Made green with the running of rivers, And gracious with temperate air,”
the soul is soothed and satisfied, so, placed before the frightful grandeur of these barren hills, it drinks in their sentiment of defiant ferocity, and is steeped in bitterness.
Australia has rightly been named the Land of the Dawning. Wrapped in the midst of early morning her history looms vague and gigantic. The lonely horseman, riding between the moonlight and the day, sees vast shadows creeping across the shelterless and silent plains, hears strange noises in the primeval forests, where flourishes a vegetation long dead in other lands, and feels, despite his fortune, that the trim utilitarian civilisation which bred him shrinks into insignificance beside the contemptuous grandeur of forest and ranges coeval with an age in which European scientists have cradled his own race.
There is a poem in every form of tree or flower, but the poetry which lives in the trees and flowers of Australia, differs from those of other countries. Europe is the home of knightly song, of bright deeds—and clear morning thought. Asia sinks beneath the weighty recollections of her past magnificence, as the Suttee sinks jewel-burdened upon the corpse of dread grandeur, destructive even in its death. America swiftly hurries on her way, rapid, glittering, insatiable even as one of her own giant waterfalls. From the jungles of Africa, and the creeper-tangled groves of the Islands of the South, arise, from the glowing hearts of a thousand flowers, heavy and intoxicating odours, the Upas-poison, which dwells in barbaric sensuality. In Australia alone is to be found the Grotesque, the Weird, the strange scribblings of Nature learning how to write. Some see no beauty in our trees without shade, our flowers without perfume, our birds who cannot fly, and our beasts who have not yet learned to walk on all fours. But the dweller in the wilderness acknowledges the subtle charm of this fantastic land of monstrosities. He becomes familiar with the beauty of loneliness. Whispered to by the myriad tongues of the wilderness, he learns the language of the barren and the uncouth, and can read the hieroglyphs of haggard gum-trees, blown into odd shapes distorted with fierce hot winds, or cramped with cold nights, when the Southern Cross freezes in a cloudless sky of icy blue. The phantasmagoria of that wild dreamland termed the Bush interprets itself, and the Poet of our desolation begins to comprehend why free Esau loved his heritage of desert sand, better than all the bountiful richness of Egypt.
Author -----Marcus Clarke.
'God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform'
at which they were much pleased. The sight of the grinning savages surrounding the four poor shipwrecked creatures singing a hymn about the providence of God must have been a strange one.
Received into the camp, they gradually recovered their strength and learned the language. Immense corrobborees were held over them, and natives crowded from all parts to see them. Murrell expressed a wish to go back to his white friends, and it was agreed that the natives should let him know whenever a ship was seen near the coast. Yet their kindness was rough at times. They seemed to regard their captives as pretty and curious toys to be shown to the best advantage, and the attendance of the “white men” was demanded at every corrobbioree. Murrell gives an interesting description of the ceremony of the Boree, or making the lads men, which is too long to quote here. It consists principally in undergoing various torments designed to test courage. Cane rings are put on the arms of the youths, and tightened so as to impede the circulation of the blood. Their arms swell very much, which puts them in great agony. They are then left in that torture all night. Their cries are terrible to hear. To keep their fingers from contraction and thus deforming them, they sit with their hands and fingers spread out on the ground, with the heels of their feet pressed closely on them. In the morning they are brought out in the presence of their mothers, sisters, and relatives, and just above and below the mark of the cane ring on their arms they make small incisions to let the blood flow”—a curious way of celebrating a coming of age, and, if possible, more unpleasant than the many unpleasant ceremonies practised by all savage tribes. In happy Europe the “heir” only gets drunk.
The Queensland blacks appear to differ but little in their customs from others of like race. They burn their dead, and carry the ashes about in a sheet of bark for twelve months, when they throw them into a waterhole. Their religious belief is of the most negative character. They say that their forefathers witnessed a great flood, and all the people in the world were drowned except some half-dozen, who went up into a high mountain Bibbiringda (inland to the north bay of Cape Cleveland). Murrell thinks that this is some dim recollection of the Noachian deluge. It is strange that aboriginals who have no tradition of their many wars, and whose memory is so slight as to tell them nothing about their father’s father, should invariably hold the most orthodox recollections of the Noachian deluge. They live on roots, fish, fruits, and birds. The men have several wives, and imitate the example of the sententions Cato in their treatment of them.
For seventeen years Murrell lived among these fellows. His companions died. The boy went first, and then the captain. Unhappy Pitkethly could endure his position no longer. He and his wife were there in the midst of savages, almost without clothes, and compelled to conform to the barbarous practices of the country. He seems to have felt more for his unhappy wife than for himself. Up to this time, says Murrell, speaking of two years from the date of the landing, she managed, by dint of great difficulty, to keep herself partially covered, but he knew it could not last much longer; and the thought of her having to come so low, and her utter helpless condition, was too much for him—he sank under it. Four days afterwards poor Mrs. Pitkethly followed her husband, and both bodies were buried, by Murrell’s request, in the sand together. Unhappy creatures! It is difficult to imagine a more dreadful death for a carefully-nurtured woman.
The slow years rolled on with Murrell, until, like Buckley, he had all but forgotten his own language, his own name—all save the memory of his native land. At last ships began to appear. A vessel came to the shore while Murrell was absent, and the sailors gave shirts to the natives. Then another ship was seen, and the natives, remembering their companion’s wish, attempted to attract the attention of the crew, but the Englishmen, not understanding their wild shoutings and yellings, fired at them, and drove them away.
Not long after this a white man with two horses came upon some natives lamenting the death of an old man, and raising his gun shot the old man’s son, who was lying on his father’s body. For this act of treachery he was, not unjustly, massacred by the tribe. Murrell says that this man was a Mr. Humphreys, of Port Denison, who was out looking for a “new track. After this several white men were seen, and also tracks of cattle, and Murrell determined to make an effort for liberty. He told the tribe that his countrymen fired at them because they did not understand their language, but that he would go and explain to them. After some demur they consented, and the man who lived with Murrell sent his gin with him to approach a white man’s hut, which they had discovered some miles down the coast. Getting clear of the scrub, the exile saw the smoke of the chimney, and the sheep feeding on the grass. The sight of these strange animals so terrified the gin, that she ran back alone. Murrell went into a waterhole, where he washed himself as white as he could, and then, “standing on the fence to keep the dogs from biting him, he hailed the hut. There were three men living there, but one, the shepherd, was looking after the sheep. Another one came out, and one cried, Bill, here’s a yellow man standing on the rails, naked. He’s not a black man—bring the gun. Poor Murrell, in terror, cries, Don’t shoot! I am a British object, a ship-wrecked sailor. Of course, he adds, I meant subject, but in the excitement of the moment I did not know what I said. The two men, whose names were Hatch and Wilson, received him kindly, and heard his story. They asked him if he knew what day and date it was? He said he did not. Sunday, the 25th January, 1863. You have been lost seventeen years. He tried to eat bread, but it choked him, and he had lost relish for tea and sugar. By-and-by the shepherd Creek came home, and Murrell unfolded his plans. He would go back to the blacks as a sort of ambassador of peace and goodwill. The three white men accepted this conclusion, adding, as a sort of rider to Murrell’s original proposition, that if he did not come back in the morning, they would put the black trackers on his trail, and shoot him.
Arrived at the camp, Murrell did his best for his countrymen, and by exaggerating their numbers and strength, induced his protectors to promise an “equitable division” of the country. The natives implored him to remain with them, but he reminded them of the threat of the trackers, and was firm. The parting, as Murrell describes it, was affecting. When I was coming away, the man I was living with burst out crying; so did his ‘gin’ and several of the other ‘gins’ and men. It was a wild, touching scene. The remembrance of their past kindness came full upon me, and quite overpowered me. There was a short struggle between the feeling of love I had for my old friends and companions, and the desire once more to live a civilised life, which can be better imagined than described. He returned to the hut, was fed and clothed, and returned to his right mind. At the end of a fortnight he was taken into the newly-made town of Bowen, where a subscription was raised for him. Thus snatched from barbarism, he ran the usual little round of tea-parties. People were eager to hear this newly-caught lion roar. From Port Denison he was passed to Rockhampton, and from Rockhampton to Brisbane. At Brisbane a pious Baptist got hold of him, and publicly baptised him on a profession of faith in Christ. He was received as a lion at Government House, and eventually accepted an official crumb in the shape of a keepership of bonded stores. Upon the strength of this appointment he married, and lived comfortably, becoming possessed of freehold property. He was a general favourite with the inhabitants, and was popularly known as Jemmy. In appearance he was short and thick set, with sunken eyes, and a wide mouth. His teeth were worn down to the gums, for, says his biographer, Mr. Gregory, they were his only knife for years. His hardships had told upon his health, and he suffered greatly from rheumatism. Nevertheless, he was active and cheerful, and not without a hankering after his old life. He offered his services to the Leichhardt party, but they were not accepted—the Port Denison Times thinks to the injury of the expedition. He was born at Heybridge, near Maldon, and was bred to the sea, and his first voyage to the colonies was made in the Ramales to Hobart Town. He died at Port Denison on the 30th October, 1865, at the age of 41, leaving a wife and one child. His death was considered almost a public calamity, and was thus spoken of by the local press:
It is our mournful duty, says the Port Denison Times, to record the death of the pioneer white man in the north James Murrell which took place on Monday, 30th October. For some time he had been suffering from a wound received in the knee during his sojourn among the aboriginals, which had been attacked with rheumatism, and ultimately brought on inflammation and fever, which resulted in his death. . . . Jemmy was devotedly attached to his wife and child, and during his late illness, when his mind passed, as in a dream, through the scenes of misery and care of his exile, he always returned to his wife and child, and his only care seemed to be that they should in future be provided for. He was a general favourite throughout the district, and when his death became known in the town on Monday, the whole of the flags at the ships in harbour, and at the various stores throughout the town, were lowered to half-mast. The funeral took place yesterday, and was attended by a large number of mourners, including many of our influential citizens. The men belonging to the pilot station had asked and obtained permission to act as bearers to their old comrade’s remains. The police also attended, and moved in the procession next the hearse, then came the mayor and the police magistrate, followed by a long string of vehicles, horsemen, and pedestrians.
Author -----Marcus Clarke.
This is one of the most dangerous creatures on the reef, and can be found swimming close to the shore from November through to March.
It gets its name from the shape of its body, which is a box shaped bell with clusters of tentacles extending from each corner, which can reach up to 3 metres in length. They are nearly invisible because they are so transparent, and the strongest advice is if you want to swim off a beach in the summer months, then swim inside the netted areas.
Their sting is agonising, however a single sting is bearable, but the problems tend to arise from panic, causing entanglement with the tentacles and a lot more stings. Enough venom can kill an adult, or drowning due to the panic. If the tentacles are stuck on a victim then they can be neutralised by pouring vinegar on them.
This is very small, being only a few centimetres in diameter, and it is to be found at the northern end of The Great Barrier Reef. They tend to be found in the deeper waters of the reef, but can be swept inshore. Divers and snorkelers are most at risk, and they usually appear in the summer months November to March.
The sting goes unnoticed for possibly as long as half an hour, but then the venom begins to take hold, and it can be strong enough to hospitalise adults. Although it’s small it’s very dangerous, because you won’t see it unless you are specifically looking.
It is the only dangerous octopus in the world, and is the size of a golf ball, and looks cute. The Blue Ringed Octopus has a beak that can penetrate a wet suit and poison that can kill an adult in minutes, and there is no known antidote.
It lives in rock pools and coral, and is very dangerous when the blue rings glow an electric blue, when it feels threatened. It is spectacular when this happens, and it attracts children, so they need to be warned not to touch anything!!
The bite doesn’t hurt, and will happen if you pick it up. Within a few minutes the venom will give breathing difficulties and nausea, and worse still if it triggers an allergic reaction.
Cone shells look very pretty but this shellfish is one of the most dangerous animals on the Great Barrier Reef.
The problem is that there are many different types of Cone Shells all over the Reef, some harmless, and some so deadly they can kill a human, as they have the most potent neurotoxins known about, in their venom.
If you add to this they have attractive shells then holidaymakers pick them up, and if threatened the Cone Shell will fire a harpoon like dart into the victim. You will know if this happens or if you stand on one when walking, because the sting will be felt straight away.
Lion-fish are members of the Scorpion Fish family and are found all over the Great Barrier Reef. They are difficult to see, and much sought after, but they hide up in crevices and small caves. The fact that they like shallow water makes them a threat to swimmers, because they have venomous and extremely large fin spines that can penetrate the skin, giving immediate pain resulting in muscle swelling, cramps, nausea, fainting and even death.
They can be recognised because they have stripes similar to a zebra.
Stonefish are ugly looking creatures, mottled green - brown in colour, with 13 dorsal spines that release a poisonous toxin when pressed, so stepping on one is a very painful experience. The pain can be excruciating and death is a possibility..
They are found mainly in the warmer northern half of the Great Barrier Reef, and they live on top of rocks or the seabed, where they lie motionless,, and their camouflage colours make them almost impossible to see. They are therefore a danger at low tide when walking along the beach, so footwear with thick soles is important. The severity of the pain and the symptoms will depend on the depth of penetration of the poisonous spine.
Finally there are 15 species of sea snakes on the Great Barrier Reef, and all of them produce lethal venom. The good news is they have small fangs and aren’t aggressive, and no-one has died from a bite.
Stingrays can be very unpleasant if you stand on their tail, as they whip up and can cut you very badly. You must ensure your anti tetanus is up to date before leaving home.
All this makes depressing reading, but remember tens of thousands of people take a Great Barrier Reef vacation every year, and only a very few are unlucky, so be sensible, take precautions.
Author----Peter R Stewart.
Fraser Island isn’t just an island paradise. It’s a unique and luxurious combination of Australia’s rich natural heritage, its earthy roots, its wholesome majesty, and its refreshingly simple essentials. It’s a chance to touch the fine sands, to drift in the temperate water, to bask in the sun that seems all yours… It’s your chance to partake of a life that most Australians have forgotten.
Spend a week on and in turquoise waters, a week without shoes with the sand between your toes, a week fishing and perhaps living off your catch. Your perspective can’t help but change.
It’s not a mere fleeting appreciation. It’s something you take with you.
Fraser can help remind you that you’re not your job. How important are the forms and the filing, the meetings and memorandums? You can learn a lot about yourself when you take away all the things that don’t matter.
And really… is there any better way to experience this epiphany than in paradise?
Fraser Island certainly is a paradise, no matter which way you look at it. At the southern end of the Great Barrier Reef, and a short boat ride from Hervey Bay in South-East Queensland, Fraser is 124 km from tip to toe and 16 km across the middle. At 163,000 hectares, it’s the world’s biggest sand island.
Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s all just sand. Not by a long shot! The whole island is laced with crystal clear fresh water streams, and deep midnight blue fresh water lakes. In fact, with over 40 fresh water lakes – it’s home to half of the world’s known ‘perched’ lakes. It also boasts a dazzling diversity of plants and animals (including Australia’s purest strain of dingo), and an amazing variety of spectacular landscapes, from 120 km of non-stop tropical beach to dense and towering rainforest, weathered headland to ochre gorge, inspiring cliffs to wandering dunes, eerie mangroves to wind-blown salt pans.
What’s more, you have your choice of accommodation, so you can choose your own level of ‘communion with nature’. From 4½ star luxury resorts to rental retreats to motels and units, right through to the good ‘ole campsite. Whether you’re a sucker for a bit of pampering, or you’re perfectly at home with a tent and a campfire on the beach, Fraser is a great provider.
And great accommodation is just the start… The island boasts average temperatures of 29°c in summer and 22°c in winter, so it’s no surprise that outdoor activities feature prominently on the agenda. Adrenalin addicts and dedicated sunbathers alike will appreciate the vast range available. From sunrise to sunset (and beyond), there’s always something for everyone. The only problem is choosing! Fishing, 4-wheel-driving, eating, sailing, bird-watching, bush-walking, swimming, eating, whale & dolphin-watching, shipwreck exploration, eating, beauty therapy, massage, lazing in the sun, eating, beach volleyball, tennis, cricket, eating, canoeing, sailboarding, snorkelling, eating… And needless to say, a few quiet drinks might make their way onto the agenda as well…
With so much to offer, it’s no surprise that the Fraser Island was originally known as K'gari or 'Paradise' by local Aboriginal peoples.
Fraser Island certainly is "paradise for everyone"!
Being a sand island, the only mode of land transport is 4WD. Of course, for many visitors, that’s the main attraction. 4WD enthusiasts from all around the world visit Fraser Island to pit themselves and their vehicles against the rugged terrain found all over the island. From the hard-packed seashore to the shifting dune to the forests of the interior, Fraser Island is the ideal 4WD location.
Don’t be scared though – it’s not all about extreme driving for experts! Whether you’re an novice, or you just prefer a more leisured pace of life, you’ll find a much more sedate satisfaction in one of the many organised 4WD tours offered around the island. Or if you just want to get out on your own, you can hire a 4WD for a day, and indulge in a bit of quiet exploring.
No matter which option you choose, though, there are a few ‘ground rules’ you should observe. Remember the dangers of driving on the beach. The further you adventure from the shoreline, the softer the sand. The softer the sand, the more likely you are to get into trouble. Generally speaking, keep your speed down, and remember you’re in a World Heritage listed environment… so be careful.
No island holiday would be complete without a lazy day or two spent fishing. Beach fishing is the big drawcard for Fraser Island. And with 150 km of ocean beach to choose from, why wouldn’t it be? Middle Rocks, Sandy Cape, Waddy Point, and Seventy Five Mile Beach are just a few of the choice locations available for you to finally get the better of ‘the one that got away’.
The famed ‘tailor run’ occurs on the eastern (ocean) side of the island between July and October each year. In the angling world, this time – known as ‘tailor season’ – is a much anticipated event, with huge schools of big fish working the beaches. But if you can’t make it between late winter and early spring, rest assured, tailor season is just one date to mark in your calendar. The western side of Fraser has been known to reward the odd angler with a fine bag of bream, whiting and flathead.
Pick the fish you’re after, and take advantage of the handy hints below to make the most of your fishing trip.
Bait: Pilchard, 3 hook gang, lure.
Timing: Late July to October.
Location: Eastern Beaches.
Bait: Pippies or worms.
Timing: May to September.
Location: Eastern Beaches.
Bait: Flesh strips, mullet gut, fowl gut, pippies.
Timing: May to September.
Location: Rocky outcrops on east coast or creeks on the west.
Bait: Worms, yabbies, pippies, prawns.
Timing: All year.
Location: Low tide on the east, creeks on the west.
Bait: Live baits, pilchards, lures.
Timing: All year.
Location: Rocky outcrops on east coast or creeks on the west.
Bait: Whole mullet, tailor fillets, beach worms.
Timing: May to September at night on the full moon, low or high tide.
Location: Deep gutters and rocky outcrops.
As you’d expect, Fraser Island plays host to a vast array of water sports. Whether you’re after a lazy drifting afternoon – cocktail in hand, or an invigorating workout, there’s a water sport for you. All fitness levels (and energy levels!) are catered for.
Ease yourself into the aqua-life with a refreshing dip at one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. Surrounded by pure white sandy beaches, the clear blue waters of Lake McKenzie are without doubt amongst the most idyllic to be found. Alternatively, exercise your imagination with a visit to the ghostly shipwreck of the “Maheno”, then submerge yourself in the crystal clear waters of Eli Creek.
Fraser Island sits on a huge reservoir of fresh water, and is home to numerous spectacular fresh water lakes, including some perched high above sea level. You have your choice of over 40 lakes… Lake Wabby, Champagne Pools, Basin Lake… to name but a few. Clearly, Fraser Island is amply equipped to pamper even the fussiest fresh water connoisseur.
For something a little more strenuous, why not hire paddle ski or canoe and paddle yourself up Dundonga Creek. It’s generally a 1 hour round trip, so by the time you return, you’ll be ready to settle back into some more relaxed pastimes.
Every year from August to October, you can book a berth on a whale watch cruise. Enjoy a fantastic half day of sun, salt, and ocean breezes while keeping your eyes peeled for Fraser’s famous migrating humpbacks.
The annual humpback migration is truly an awesome spectacle. Family pods take a well earned rest in the waters west of Fraser Island after travelling 5000 km from the icy waters of the Antarctic. The sight of a 15 tonne (that’s the weight of 11 elephants!) adult female humpback rearing out of the ocean is absolutely awe-inspiring.
And don’t worry… if your holiday doesn’t coincide with the migration, you can still catch a cruise questing for dolphins, dugongs, turtles and the odd Indo Pacific Humpback.
Speak to your hotel or resort for information about organising a whale or dolphin watching cruise. Alternatively, contact Kingfisher Bay Resort and ask about their tours.
Access to Fraser Island is via vehicular barge or catamaran.
4WDs only on Fraser Island (there are no paved roads except in resorts).
Don’t feed or pet the dingoes (or any other animals).
No domestic animals allowed.
Most activities on the island can be enjoyed individually or as part of a booked tour group.
You’ll need permits to 4WD or camp .
4WDs can be hired on the mainland or on the island.
Don’t leave food unattended.
All but the hardest sand can be unpredictable and perilous for a 4WD.
High and low tide gutters around dawn or dusk are best for fishing.
If four wheel driving, take a good map and a tyre pressure gauge.
For further information about all aspects of Fraser Island, including accommodation, hire guides, and barge booking details and timetables, see http://www.boxatrix.com/.
Accommodation - Prices vary from approximately $4 per night if you’re camping right up to $850 per night for the VIP room at the 4½ star luxury of Kingfisher Bay Resort.
Permits - A 4WD vehicle permit will cost you $31.85. Camping permits are $4 per person per night or $16 per family per night. Children under 5 are free. To purchase a permit or obtain detailed information, call the Queensland National Parks and Wildlife Service at Rainbow Beach on (07) 5486 3160.
Vehicular Barge Access - Barges operate daily from Hervey Bay and Rainbow Beach. Tickets start at $82.20 return per vehicle per driver. Extra vehicle passengers will cost $5.50 each. Several barges operate with different destinations on the island. Most require bookings.
4WD Hire - Rates start at around $90 per day for a Suzuki Sierra, up to $130 per day for a Landrover Defender (depending on the duration of hire).
Flights to Queensland - Qantas offers return flights to Hervey Bay via Brisbane from $407 departing Sydney, and from $527 departing Melbourne.
Author----Glenn Murray.
