Woke up insane early, checked out, and threw our big bags in lockers. Watched a video detailing how not to die instantly and not to sleep in the road on Fraser Island. Also, avoidance of dingos, but to fight back aggressively should you have to.... Got in our groups (no choice) and ours seems really good. Signed all our lives away (me and joff only drivers), paid $1000 for bond, got sleeping bags, then met our 4x4 for the next few days, soon to be named Taloola. Joff expertly drove the old 4x4 to the garage and we utilised some excellent team work packing Taloola extremely snuggly (3 tents, gas, stove, sleeping bags, mats, eskis, cutlery, etc). Drove to woolies to get group food, which, thanks to Susanne, was highly organised and only cost $10 each for 3 days! This included a meat BBQ for the first night. We then bought vast quantities of goon (boxed cheap wine) and beer. In the end we were the last to leave the supermarket, but 2nd out of 4 to get to the dock, and bust out some hacky sack car park action. Before boarding our Barge of wonder, we lost Barry, our token irish guy. This was partially due to a toilet hunt and his commencement of alcohol consumption. Needless to say some Oz dude threatened him with a $27,000 fine later on in for the escapade of existing in close proximity to an open beer can.
Anyway, Joff reversed with great skill onto the barge. As the 2nd driver I had the front seat, which was cool as the other 7 were crammed in the back with all our bags, where as I could stretch out comfortably. On the barge I bought a Diet Coke off a guy who seemed convinced I was to blame for every stupid car accident on Fraser Island. Apparently 3 4x4s roll a month, to much calamity. On arrival, Joff and I let down the tires in preparation for some serious off roading, and nearly got lost trying to obtain our camping and vehicle permits, though my nav skills saved all mankind. What followed was a grueling x miles of driving for Joff, through the middle of the island an crazy uneven tracks through forest. Eventually, we bust out to the eastern beach and on up the beach towards the champagne pools, and Indian point. We reached Indian Point quite late, just about at the time when we weren't meant to drive on the beach after due to the tide. It was pouring at this point and we took a short inland track to the champagne pools under my driving skillery. The weather cleared so we walked down the cliff to the disappointing champagne pools, where you can normally swim in really hot water. But there was no sun and tide was far too high. Still, having a great time even though we realised we were stranded far from our suggested camping area.
After a discussion with a bus driver, it turned out the beach was fine as long as we (read I) were careful and stopped if waves were close. So I busted along the beach for a while, dodging waves and rocks, one eye on the ever creeping sea. In the end, we just had to choose a bumpy area to build our home for the night, with no one else in sight. It was quite exposed to the crazy wind and sporadic rain but after much confusion we got all the tents up, though one had suspicious structural integrity. The meat got cooking and we all chilled, mainly hiding in Taloola, with beer and goon. Barry manned our temperamental gas stove for the first batch of sausages and burgers. Foolishing, I was left in charge of the next batch of sausages, which turned out surprisingly good, for half meat half sand sausages, and we kept them wrapped for tomorrow. Fiona was unfortunately ill for the entire evening :(.
The rest of the night involved moderate drinking and then crashing out before 12, much to Jamie's dismay. Barry, Jamie and I shared a tent which was awesome, except it was our "special" tent, so kept flapping against our faces and halfway through the night Barry woke up, had a panic attack, and trampled me trying to get out. Quite humourous.
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