A whale of a time
7-minute read • 1,164 words
Originally published in the February 2017 issue of Westside Magazine.
It’s the source of countless jokes and internet memes. ‘Australia: where everything wants to kill you.’ The apparent deadliness of the land down under has become such a cliché that we’re more likely to shrug it off than pay it proper attention.
So it felt as if the universe was trying to prove a point when, on my first full day in the country, I was stung by a poisonous jellyfish.
I’m fine, obviously – this article hasn’t been dictated via ouija board from beyond the grave – although I do feel a bit daft for not taking those ‘jokes’ more seriously.
At the moment I was stung by that jellyfish, however, I was snorkelling off the coast of a private island on the Southern Great Barrier Reef. Golden sunlight poured down on me from above, falling to the ocean floor in bright straight beams, illuminating a kaleidoscope of coral and ocean wildlife. On balance, I think it was worth the risk.
Australia is a land of diverse charm and beauty – and nowhere is this more evident than in Queensland, the country’s second-largest state. Our trip took in bustling Brisbane, the state capital; the Capricorn Coast, named after the Tropic of Capricorn and with the climate to match; the Bundaberg region with its quaint coastal resorts; and the natural wonders of the Fraser Coast. Each was full of highlights, varied and plentiful – but some things were common to them all.
Firstly: good ol’ Aussie hospitality. Wherever we went, we were greeted by beaming smiles and laidback attitudes. (The clichés are true; Aussies really do say “No worries” a lot.)
This was the case in busy cities as well as quiet seaside towns: throughout Brisbane, from the Gallery of Modern Art to the South Bank Parklands (both highly recommended), we met strangers who made us feel like old friends.
Second: the weather. Queensland does experience occasional heavy rainfall (more about that later), but for the most part it’s blue skies and high temperatures all year round.
In Yeppoon, the sunrises and sunsets made the endless beach glow purple and pink. Our coach driver, a local, told us he’d never seen snow. Reader, I envied him.
Thirdly, the food. Aussies love their tucker. Queensland is big on local produce: macadamia nuts, native to the region, feature on every menu; in the town of Bundaberg, famed for its sugar mills and rum distillery, the air smells of thick molasses.
The local delicacy of the Brisbane region is the Moreton Bay bug, a type of lobster. The delicate flavour of its sweet, white flesh is in no way diminished by the fact that it looks like the thing that burst out of John Hurt’s chest in Alien.
That bug is ugly, yes, but at least it isn’t dangerous. It might not be true that everything in Australia wants to kill you, but most things certainly could. Even the fluffiest creatures can be a threat: on one coach journey, we passed a family of kangaroos sunbathing by the roadside – a common sight, our driver said. Very cute – but one swift kick from their hind legs and you’d be pushing up the daisies faster than you could say “Strewth!”
The deadliest of all Queensland’s inhabitants, at least in theory, is the humpback whale. Up to 52ft in length with an average weight of 36,000kg, these marine mammals could squish a human without even realising it. But humpbacks are gentle giants, prone to playful displays and hugely popular with tourists.
Hervey Bay touts itself as ‘the whale-watching capital of the world’ – unique amongst similar sites around the globe because whales use it as a stopping-off point, rather than somewhere they simply pass through. Expert locals operate boat trips which take visitors right alongside the whales as they play, slapping their enormous fins and leaping dramatically from the waves.
There’s currently an application in progress for Hervey Bay to become an internationally-recognised ‘Whale Heritage Site’. Here’s hoping it gets approved, because this is a spectacle which deserves to be protected and promoted.
Also worth protecting: the Great Barrier Reef. We’ve all seen the David Attenborough programmes: it’s stunning, even on screen. But spend an afternoon snorkelling beside it, over it, through it, and you realise why it really is one of nature’s true miracles.
The waters around Lady Musgrave Island are a particularly beautiful part of the reef. The route out to the island is notoriously choppy, and our boat ride came the day after the area’s worst storm in years. Put it this way: next time I’ll take a helicopter.
But the remarkable sights made every wretch and heave worthwhile. I saw coral of every type and hue. I watched shoals of orange-and-white clownfish, and followed a ray as it glided effortlessly along the seabed. A green sea turtle passed right in front of me, close enough to touch, on its way to the surface for air. I was in undersea heaven.
Unspoiled beauty abounds in Queensland. On Fraser Island, a short ferry ride out from Hervey Bay and the largest sand island in the world, the sheer number of natural wonders is overwhelming.
Our drive (a guided tour by four-wheel drive; ‘normal’ cars aren’t permitted) took in Lake McKenzie, with its white silica beach; Eli Creek, warm and shallow enough to wade along; 75-Mile Beach (bet you can’t guess why it’s called that); and the coloured cliffs at the Pinnacles. Central Station, a forest filled with lush ferns and trees that stretch to the sky, is positively Jurassic. If a T. rex had wandered into view, I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid.
And what of the place I was describing earlier, where I got stung by the poisonous jellyfish? That’s Pumpkin Island, off the coast of Keppel Bay, and though I’d hesitate to call anywhere ‘paradise’, this comes mighty close.
Owner Wayne Rumble was gifted the island by his father for his 27th birthday. (I got some boxer shorts for mine, so it’s one-nil to Wayne on that.) He and his wife Laureth live there, on this tranquil dot in the South Pacific, and the public can share a taste of their charmed life through the island’s seven holiday cottages.
We spent a lazy afternoon sunbathing and paddle-boarding (I only fell in once), watched the sun go down over cocktails at the beach bar, then cooked a barbecue late into the night. The next morning, after a walk round the island (we dawdled and took an hour; you could easily do it in ten minutes), Laureth gave us an impromptu yoga lesson, peaceful and silent but for the waves lapping gently at the shoreline.
Suffice to say, I would let a thousand jellyfish sting me for a thousand days to spend one more hour on Pumpkin Island. And the same applies for Queensland – the glistening jewel in Australia’s crown.
www.ladymusgraveexperience.com.au
