FERRY TO PARADISE
K’GARI sits barely a kilometre off the mainland, and multiple barges and ferries regularly make the crossing, transporting an armada of 4x4s and their grinning drivers. Many of the decked-out vehicles could easily be on the cover of a magazine, and they’re all packed to the brim, ready for adventure.
The excitement is palpable as we join the line-up of vehicles before reversing on to the ferry. Loading the ferry in reverse means we’re lined up to drive straight out on arrival, which makes life much easier. The crossing takes barely 20 minutes, and we are quickly off the ferry and on the island.
Driving on an island entirely made of sand means we need to air down to 16psi all around. At these pressures the contact patch is increased enormously and will provide plenty of grip in the soft sand. It’s reassuring to know we can still go a lot lower if the need arises, but for now we’ll walk the line between traction, fuel consumption and speed.
While crossing the island I’m impressed to see enormous eucalyptus trees forming a dense jungle that allows very little light to penetrate to the forest floor. Tracks are rutted sand criss-crossed with tree roots, washouts and rubber matting designed to prevent further erosion.
We arrive on the far eastern side of the island during a rising tide, almost the worst possible time to start our first beach drive. We must drive a few kilometres south to our first of many beach campsites, and we’re all on edge as we race the incoming tide. Thankfully we make it through with only one small splash of saltwater, and we’re elated to see we have our pick of the sites tucked in behind the dunes – there’s not another living soul in sight.
FROM top to bottom, K’gari is dotted with spectacular places to visit, each of which are a worthy destination in their own right. After just our first night camping behind the dunes I wonder if 10 days will be enough to see everything we want to see, and so to squeeze the most out of every day we rise before the sun and don’t crawl into bed until long after sunset.
The aptly named 75 Mile Beach runs along most of the east coast of the island, and is designated a main road complete with speed limits and police radar. The sand road is so consistently good it is also used as a runway for light planes, which makes for some interesting decision making while navigating its length. It’s not often I have to also concentrate on the sky while driving.
Halfway along the east coast of the island we stop at the famous wreck of the passenger ship, the SS Maheno. In 1935 the ship was caught in a strong cyclone about 80km off the coast of
Queensland while being towed to a scrapyard. The ship became beached on the east coast of the island where it has remained ever since, slowly rusting away in the corrosive saltwater.
Swimming in the ocean off K’gari is ill-advised due to the toothy locals and massive swell, but thankfully mother nature has provided the perfect alternative to combat the intense Australian sun. A series of inland lakes boast white-sand beaches and crystal-clear water, and are the ideal places to spend time during the heat of the day. Just north of the Maheno wreck on the east coast, Eli Creek flows into the ocean and provides not only a refreshing swimming hole, but also hours of entertainment for the whole family. The crystal-clear creek flows at a rate of 80 million litres per day, which provides plenty of flowing water allowing you to drift downstream on just about any kind of inflatable or pool noodle.
Cutting across the island to the west coast we arrive at the breathtaking Awinya Creek camping area where paradise is elevated to a whole new level. With white sand stretching to the horizon, and sunset painting the sky and sand every shade of red, orange and yellow that can be imagined, we’re more than happy with our plan to camp here for consecutive nights.
At sunrise Katie and I hike inland to an enormous sand blow, a unique natural feature created by strong winds that endlessly blow sand inland where it accumulates into huge pristine sand dunes. In a constant battle with vegetation these dunes grow and shrink each year, shifting with the wind. It takes us almost an hour to walk up just a small part of the sand blow, and we’re staggered by the size of the enormous dunes.
Back on the east coast we continue north, rounding Indian Head for a visit to Champagne Pools. This series of natural rock pools provide a sheltered swimming area in the otherwise unforgiving ocean. When the tides are timed just right, the largest waves crash over the rocks into the swimming pools in spectacular fashion, creating plenty of foam and excitement for those swimming in relative safety.
Each night we tuck in behind the dunes to camp, and each and every night we are alone, with just the sound of the crashing waves to lull us into a deep sleep.
CAREFULLY studying tide tables, we arrive bright and early at the infamous Ngkala Rocks, one of Australia’s most notorious 4x4 obstacles. Immediately we are greeted by a scene of carnage. A group of young guys are standing around looking sheepish while they wait for a very expensive tow truck. It takes a good deal of coaxing to get the story out of them, which finally comes out in a flood. Using a huge amount of right foot through the rocks, one of the drivers managed to tear a front wheel and hub off his Hilux, completely blocking the narrow rock canyon. With no better option they used the other vehicles to drag it through the rocks, folding the wheel underneath and ripping the tyre off the now severely battered and scarred rim. The tow truck is en route from the southern tip of the island, and will cost upwards of $1000, even before any repair work can begin.
Ron and I are already thinking of skipping the rock section, and when we learn of another stricken vehicle at the far end of the sand climb our decision is easy. Wanting to see the entire sandy climb and descent for myself, I walk the length of the rough rock section and then the very long, soft and steep sand corridor. I’ve seen hundreds of photos and videos of vehicles hopelessly stuck to the chassis rails in this very sand, and I feel a strong sense of déjà vu despite never having been here before.
On the far side I find another large group assessing the damage to an older Nissan Patrol. The clutch has burnt out in the soft sand, and the team are devising a plan to use three vehicles to pull the dead Patrol up and over the sandy climb, which they do with plenty of engine revving and wheel-spinning.
When our turn comes we time the crashing waves and drive on the beach below the rocks, darting around just before the next wave crashes in. While we avoid the rocks, the extremely soft sandy section is mandatory. Lowering our tyres to 14psi increases the contact patch, and I have no trouble moving forward through the soft sand up and over the climb. Ron, on the other hand, is not so fortunate, and I dash back with recovery boards in hand to help extract his bogged Hilux.
After lowering tyre pressures to 12psi Ron has no problem moving forward, and together we drive down the other side on to the remote northern beaches. Continuing north the coastline becomes much more wild and remote, and my jaw drops as we round Sandy Cape at the northern tip of the island where enormous sand dunes drop right into the ocean, leaving just a small strip of beach sand for us to squeeze past at low tide.
AT THE INFAMOUS NGKALA ROCKS, IMMEDIATELY WE ARE GREETED BY A SCENE OF CARNAGE