Dilli Village to Lake Benaroon – 15km, plus travel to the island
“So good to be back!”
I have visited Fraser Island – now called K’gari – many times over the years. The first was as a young girl, aged maybe 8 or 9, with my family. I remember travelling in an old, open air jeep named “Apache”. We flew through creeks, swam in lakes, rolled in sand dunes, and I remember feeling that this was one of the most exciting days of my young life! We visited a few times as a family.
Later, all grown up and at the ripe, old age of 20, I again visited the island – this time with my TAFE class. Advanced Certificate in Outdoor Guiding is what we were doing. It was an amazing course! We travelled all around the country side, and my love affair with hiking began with lessons in types of gear, how to pack a pack, and navigation. I remember thinking to myself “I would like to work here one day…”
One day arrived a few years later, when I began work as a tour guide for the then, newly established and completely environmentally innovative, Kingfisher resort. My god, I had a good time! It was a mecca for young folks, and we all rocked it!
So now, more than 20 years later I am back. And really excited to experience the place again.
I slept well and was up with my alarm. Iced coffee, sausage roll and a custard tart for brekky. Can’t beat it. I was able to easily hail the local taxi driver, who again re-iterated that it’s been amazingly busy. Folks travelling in their own backyard under the circumstances. Perhaps one positive to come out of Covid….
He dropped me at the ferry, and I was able to walk straight on board. There was Catherine! How nice to see a friendly face. Sadly, she let me know that Pauline was unable to make it with a medical problem. Hopefully she’ll get the all clear and be able to join her sister later in the week. I really felt for them both.
Arriving on the island we awaited the taxi service. Catherine walked the Bibbulman track a couple of years ago as a birthday present to herself. It was great to get her insights into it whilst we waited.
The taxi arrived and ferried us up the beach to Dilli Village, the start point of the walk. Here I said my goodbyes to Catherine. I only have 5 days here, whilst she had 8, so I am hustling a little faster than her.
I set off. The first 4km of track was through dry scrub, following a sand dune ridgeline to the top. A small side track enabled a view of a small sandblow.
The first stop of real significance was Lake Boomajin. I came across the walkers camp, looking all safe and secure fenced off from the local thugs, the dingoes. Nearby was a large, fenced, car camping area as well. I walked past both of these, hoping for a more secluded point of entry to the lake.
My wish was granted! What a view! Walking lakeside for a couple of km was fantastic. White sand, brown and purple stained lake, green reeds, patches of colour, little creeks, and wonderful aloneness. It was so good!
Eventually, I left the lake and recommenced forest walking. This time in forest with some extremely tall, large trees. Some areas had been burnt, others not. It was easy walking, mostly flat, and it wasn’t long before I arrived at my campsite.
Huh. No dingo fence. And no one else at the camp. This could be…interesting. There was big dingo boxes at each campsite, and I enjoyed setting up and just throwing everything in the box rather than the tent. Rain is expected tonight, so it should all stay nice and dry without impeding on my sleeping space!
Next up, a trip down to Lake Benaroon. Little bit windy, but beautiful and sunny. What’s a girl to do when there is no-one else around, but to strip off and plunge in the water! Oh so refreshing. And kind of naughty too. Can’t beat it.
I sat on the shore drying off and spent a pleasant few hours patrolling the lake shore and reading. I have to say, this is probably the most relaxed I’ve felt over the last couple of weeks. In the swing of it and just loving every second.
I returned to the lake on sunset. Nobody else arrived, so I have the place to myself. I have a wonderful time paddling and watching the refections change on the water. It is absolutely serene.
Later, up at the campsite, I hear it. The first menacing growl. Not a dingo, but thunder. The sky growls again and I can see clouds, dark and ominous, scudding on the horizon.
I hasten to finish my dinner and chores before the storm hits. Just as I’m finishing, the first heavy drop plops down. The sky flashes silver. It’s here.
I dive into my shelter and watch the sparks crackle across the sky. The tent lights up like a disco strobe inside. Rain pelts the roof and the sky roars. I feel utterly snug and safe – despite the co-threats of dingoes and an electrical storm. This I can handle. Rats, I cannot.