Coffs Harbour - whales

It's been a memorable day. One that we will never forget. A lifelong ambition was crossed off the list.

We crossed the border into New South Wales a few days ago, after two months in Queensland. The pubs changed from yellow-and-red “XXXX” (because they can’t spell “beer”?) to Tooheys as the Bruce Highway changed into the Pacific Highway, but the spectacular coastline continued as we drove south. A couple of days in Kingscliff allowed us to explore “the Twin Towns” of Coolangatta and Tweed heads, with the border running down the main street. We heard strange tales of the local drinkers enjoying “Happy Hour” on one side of the street, then crossing over the road, and the border, for the next Happy Hour” thanks to Queensland’s refusal to adopt Daylight Saving. Then a short stay in Ballina enabled us to explore Lennox Head, Byron Bay and Brunswick Head. We stood on the headland at Ballina watching whales out to sea, but that was only a taste of what was to come.

Beautiful Byron Bay

Next was Coffs Harbour, and we stayed a short distance up the coast at Emerald Beach. Again we could see whales from the shoreline, slowly making their way north to warmer waters off Queensland to have their babies, before migrating back to Antarctic waters later in the year. We heard a news item declaring that whale numbers have been increasing each year, with an estimated 30,000 migrating whales this year between June and September off the Australian east coast. No wonder they call it the “Humpback Highway”. A few days ago there was a whale count off Port Macquarie, and the expected number was 200 – they counted 352. This is of course fantastic news since their population fell by 90% before the 1966 moratorium. The temptation was too great – we booked ourselves on a whale-watching cruise for early the next morning.

After leaving the harbour, it didn’t take long for us to see the distinctive jet of water not far off the starboard bow, and we unobtrusively followed. This was a pair of humpbacks, every so often coming to the surface to breath, blow their spout and submerge again. We could easily see the hump on its back, as well as several barnacles, and occasionally we’d see the gigantic tail as it slid beneath the waves. Then, unexpectedly, one of them breached.  

Longer than our car and caravan, weighing over 20 tonne ... and only ten metres from us.

This massive creature launched itself entirely out of the water, did a half-turn and landed on its back to create the biggest splash we had ever seen. We could feel the tremor in the water, we could even feel the sound of the biggest belly flop you could imagine. It was no more than ten metres away. The sight made us gasp, and yell, and just stare in wonder. It then breached again. And again, as if it was performing for us. They did tail smacks, and head lunges, and generally frolicked about.  

A tail slap to say goodbye.

We casually followed this pair for an hour, and when the time came to head back, we said farewell to our cetaceous friends and thanked them for the show. They were the largest animals we had ever experienced, so gracious in their size and magnificence. They are at the top of the food chain, with their only predator being sharks that attack sick infants. Oh, and the Japanese. How could you kill such a beautiful animal?

Brisbane

Prior to arriving in Brisbane we explored the fascinating city of Bundaberg, famous for a certain rum that bears the city’s name. We’ve always recognised the Bundy brand name, as it’s been one of Australia’s most iconic trademarks. The most fascinating part of the factory tour was entering the molasses store – a million litres of thick syrup left over from the sugar mill that is conveniently just nextdoor. The roof keeps in the warmth and the remarkable smell. Instantly reminding us of treacle, the sweet odour was reflected in its taste, as we were given a small sample on a stick to try. The tour culminated in a little tasting at the end, and it is a unique Australian product.

Our two week stay in and around the Brisbane area included some catching up with old friends and workmates. We parked the van in the driveway of Karen, a former work colleague of Anne’s, and husband Rob who live in the northern Brisbane suburb of Narangba. It was a handy location from which to explore not only Brisbane but also its northerly tourist destinations. Bribie Island could almost be a Brisbane suburb and had some very nice parks, marinas, resorts and seaside residences. Redcliff is a northern coastal city famous for being an important part in the early childhood of The Bee Gees, and we found a recently constructed mall dedicated to the Gibb brothers. It was a cleverly displayed story of the group and was opened in 2013 by Barry Gibb himself, sadly the only remaining Gibb brother left alive.

We also visited a couple of my old workmates, Phil and Mirek, who both left work many years ago and retired with their wives to the Queensland warmth. It was an awful coincidence that at the same time we were told of the untimely death of another old workmate, Adrian, who had been visiting his daughter in Ireland but fell down her stairs and hit his head. He lay in a coma for ten days before the family had to make that most awful decision to turn off life support. It was such a shock, but in a small way it was comforting to share the news with others who had also worked with Adrian.

We had left home a few months before with a plan, which was to meet up with yet another old workmate of mine, Graeme, and his wife Christine on the Sunshine Coast after our Brisbane stay. They came to Queensland to see their son, however that plan was thrown out the window when their son ended up in a Brisbane hospital following a serious motorbike accident. They parked their caravan at nearby Ipswich to enable easy visits to the hospital, so we parked ours next to theirs and still enjoyed their company for a few days. In the following week their son made a full recovery and we took the opportunity to explore Warwick, Toowoomba and the surrounding Lockyer valley.

Hervey Bay

There seems to be so many destinations down the Queensland coast that are worth exploring. The next one for us was Hervey Bay, and its a long esplanade with the sea on one side and shops, accommodation, restaurants and bars on the other. Plenty of grassed parks and gardens make this city an enjoyable living space.

Looks like snow, but it's actually sand.

Just off the coast is the remarkable Fraser Island, and we purchased a day-long four-wheel-drive tour to see it. What makes this large island so remarkable is that it is made entirely of sand. In fact it’s the world’s largest sand island, and a 4WD vehicle is essential to traverse it. From the ferry we drove the 22 kilometres across the island along a bush track made of soft sand. All of the island’s trees grow in soft sand, spreading their roots out wide to ensure they do not topple over. Emerging from the forest on the seaward side of the island, we drove up the beach on wet sand. We soon came across a major Fraser Island landmark on the beach – the rusting shipwreck of “The Mahino”. Washed ashore by a cyclone in 1935, photos show that it was a very large ship, but three-quarters of it is now buried under sand. For a short time in its long life it was used as a hospital ship at Gallipoli in 1915, giving it a special place in Australia’s history.

The wreck of "The Maheno" on Fraser Island.

Many freshwater creeks start in the Frazer Island highlands and flow to the sea, and we waded down the length of one of them (Eli Creek). Of course we waded on a bed of ubiquitous white sand. We also drove to one of many lakes in the middle of the island, this one was Lake MacKenzie, and its water was crystal clear on top of white sand. The sand at Lake MacKenzie is reportedly 92% silica, one of the purest silica sands in the world (the purest is apparently Whitehaven Beach in the Whitsundays, at 99%). Sand was ever-present wherever we went on Fraser Island, and it was impossible not to bring some of it home with you.

The seaward side of Fraser Island.

I soon realised that it had been a wise decision not to take my car onto Fraser Island, as the Toyota Landcruiser that took us was riddled with rust from the salty sea air. Every exposed piece of metal on the car was dark brown, and it had several blisters growing from under the paintwork - sure signs of the dreaded metallic cancer. Our tour guide said that their cars only have a lifespan of three years, after which they’re scrapped and new ones are bought.

Beach driving.

Hervey Bay is famous for whale sightings, and we weren’t disappointed. Standing on the beach, we witnessed several humpbacks frolicking out to sea, even breaching the surface to come crashing down to create a splash so big that we could hear it. It was an incredible sight, and we were lucky as whales are not usually spotted until July/August. “The first whales for the year” said our tour guide. “The first whales in our lifetime” we said.

In the distance, a humpback whale says hello.

As well as our tour guide Chris, we had a local indigenous guy called Pete with us, and he was fascinating, explaining many of the traditional customs of the original islanders. That’s one thing that we’ve witnessed throughout our journey so far – so many places have included an aboriginal interpretation of what we were seeing or experiencing. We think that’s fantastic, especially with so much emphasis along the Queensland coast on Captain Cook’s voyage of discovery in 1770. It seems that the imbalance is being restored.  

1770, the township.

When Captain Cook sailed up the east coast of Australia in 1770, he landed first at Botany Bay and secondly at a lovely little harbour a thousand kilometres further north. That little harbour was later named “1770” to commemorate the year of this event, making it a rare town by having a number for a name. Despite being 60 kilometres off the Bruce Highway, we took the detour and stayed there for two nights. Most commerce sits five kilometres away in nearby Agnes Waters where you can buy any of your essential needs, leaving 1770 with only a marina, restaurant, several accommodation options, and a pub with an open-air bar providing a million-dollar view over the harbour and out to sea. The lack of trendy surf shops, cocktail bars and night clubs made 1770 a lovely, peaceful and relaxing little town.

The lovely outlook from the bar in 1770.

The bush setting of the 1770 caravan park.

From here we explored Gladstone for a few hours. It seemed that this allotted amount of time was all that the place deserved, despite its population of 43,000. It had a large port facility for all types of seaward transport, from coal to containers, which made the extensive shoreline an ugly part of the city. Maybe our impression of Gladstone had been tainted by Cairns, Townsville, Mackay and Rockhampton.

The port of Gladstone

Venturing further south, we make it to Bundaberg, passing still more cane fields. Sugar cane has become the staple view from the Pajero ever since Cooktown. For hundreds of kilometres, sugar cane grows beside the roads of Far-North Queensland. When you look out over the top of a cane field, it looks like a paddock of grass, until you realise that it’s over three metres high. These paddocks stretch to the horizon, and the landscape is occasionally interrupted by a sugar refinery mill. Of course Bundaberg has a use for one of the by-products of sugar manufacture, namely molasses, to make Australia’s most famous rum, named after the town where the distillery is situated. We did the tour of Bundaberg rum factory, which concluded with a tasting of a choice of their many products. It certainly is an iconic part of Australia’s culture.

Bundaberg's icon ...

Bundaberg reminded us of our hometown Launceston, and indeed they have similar populations. However the surrounding areas are more popular with tourists and holiday makers, and we chose the little locality called Elliott Heads. Right on the beach, the caravan park had grassed sites and a brand new toilet block, and of course was chock-full of grey nomads – retired couples wandering Australia in a caravan or motor home.

Rockhampton

Throughout this journey we have utilised the tool that is essential when travelling around Oz. It’s called “Wikicamps”, it’s installed on your mobile phone, and it’s worth many times the seven dollar investment. Essentially a GPS satellite navigator, it points out caravan parks, camping grounds and points of interest together with reviews, photos and prices. Before moving on to our next night’s location, we refer to Wikicamps to figure out routes, destinations, distances and travel times. There’s little wonder why it’s so popular amongst travellers, and by following the traditional “wiki” philosophy, the more people who use it and update it, the more accurate it is. In this instance, we were yearning for a quiet camp after the hustle and bustle of the popular tourist spots along the Queensland coast. Wikicamps recommended a bush camp to the north of Rockhampton called “Fardooleys”, so we phoned ahead to secure a spot and tried it out. It was a revelation – low key because it does not advertise, and delightful for its simplicity.

Fardooley's Bush Camp.

Sitting high on a hill with spectacular views to the south over Rockhampton and the surrounding hillside, a large flat area provided room for about a dozen caravans along with a rudimentary but clean toilet/shower block, powered by solar panels for lights and a wood fire for hot water. Caravans had to provide their own solar power but water was available to each site. The owners Peter and Robyn were long retired and used the $12 a night per caravan to help boost their income, but we sensed that they received a lot more from meeting guests than from any financial gain. We were literally parked in their backyard, and they hosted drinks every day at 5pm in their own private entertainment area, where Robyn would pass around plates of nibblies, the guitars and ukuleles would come out and people from all over the world would socialise and chat. We spent four days here amongst new-found friends, enjoying the view and the beautiful sounds of the bush provided by a chorus of birds in the surrounding trees.
Of course we also explored Rockhampton and nearby Yeppoon, Emu Bay, Byfield National Park and Capricornia Caves. Rocky is a charming city of lovely parks and streets lined with palm trees and heritage buildings, giving it a certain charm. In contrast, Yeppoon is a trendy resort town on the coast with restaurants, cafes, bars and shops, with Great Keppel Island just a few kilometres out the sea. I think we’ve grown familiar with such places - Port Douglas, Palm Cove, Mission Beach, Airlie Beach and Yeppoon all share a similar vibe. They are beautiful places that not surprisingly attract thousands of tourists and provide access to the Great Barrier Reef, but at the same time they also lack a certain allure. Peter and Robyn’s bush camp was a welcome relief.

Capricornia caves, near Rockhampton.

Our next stay was another Wikicamps recommendation, in the old historic mining town of Mt Morgan on the southern side of Rocky. We asked a lot of the Pajero to haul the caravan up the winding and steep mountainside road but it didn’t miss a beat. We drove through the quaint and fascinating little town to reach the Silver Wattle Caravan Park, to be greeted by owners Sarah and Mark and their two small children. They also provided nibblies in their camp kitchen for 4 o’clock drinkies where we got to know the family better and met other park guests. Sarah and Mark received our admiration after learning their story – selling their Melbourne business to find a caravan park to buy, finding the Silver Wattle in northern Queensland and converting it from a run-down dump into a beautifully landscaped park that is a pleasure to stay in. The kids attend the local primary school and the business has become an essential cog in the economy of the town. They were a delightful family, and we stayed for four nights, including the first Queensland V N.S.W. State of Origin rugby game. Well, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

The charming village of Mt Morgan.