Monday, January 23, 2006
Rainbow Beach
This NP stretches north from Noosa Heads along 60km of beach to Inskip Point. From Inskip you can throw a rock across the channel to Fraser Island, where the wilderness continues another 175km. (Well you could if you could throw 1.5km, but it still seems very close.)
Rainbow Beach is a backpacker settlement at the northern end of the NP, facing a surf beach and backed by an amazing variety of vegetation types, from rainforest to paperbark swamp and sandy heath; rugged as you like.
That said, we stayed in a swanky apartment with a great view up the coast to Fraser. The apartment was the last developed block before you hit protected land and a short walk through forest to Carlow Sandblow.
Sandblows are what they sound like; huge expanses of sand, apparently blowing back from the ocean and piercing the forest. The sand islands and coasts of south east Queensland host many, including several giants on Fraser Island, and this one at Rainbow Beach.
The most plausible explanation is that they have resulted from human forest clearing, back from the beach, many thousands of years ago. Once the protective forest front has been pierced, the sand is simply blown inland, inundating everything in its path by incessant winds.
How they stop, if they stop, as yet to be witnessed. Either way, they are now part of the protected landscape and no effort is made to artificially arrest their spread. (Purists could argue that such human induced environments should be stabilised, yet they are now part of the ‘cultural’ landscape and, as such, left mostly alone. Another example is the cleared pastures of the Bunya Mountains; so long have they been artificially cleared by Aborigines that a number of species which inhabit the pasture would disappear if the rainforest was allowed to grow back.)
Carlow Sandblow provides a dramatic foreground to the wonderful coastline around to Double Island Point. It also a great place to watch various wind related activities (hang gliding, model gliding and paragliding) and indulge in champagne whilst watching the sun go down.
On the second day we ventured along a dirt road inland, the “Freshwater Track”, talking in a walk to the exquisite Poona Lake.
Poona Lake is flanked by rainforest, has white sand and is perched. That is, is sits below the water table, and the water is hence beautifully clear. It is quite the most idyllic spot, almost cliche.
Later, we ventured further into the forest and deeper into the sand until I got the car stuck, bottled out and turned back. We would have to make do with seeing postcards of the wrecked Cherry Venture, a rusted hulk, sat on the beach beyond our reach.
The beaches in this part of the world commonly resemble a motorway, with the Landcrusier and Tin boat set bashing the beaches in their droves. Three weeks ago a British tourist was seriously injured when he was run over on Fraser Island, whilst he was having a nap in the sand dunes.
Inskip Point is the jumping off point to Fraser Island, via a barge that simply drops its ramp on the beach. It's like a Piccadilly Circus in the wilderness, with trucks and cars pounding through the soft sand, whilst kids attempt to play on the beach and avoid being run over.
Nothing epitomises the seeming arrogance of 4WD drivers than their antics on the beach, not stopping for anyone through fear of getting bogged or washed away, only half in control of a three tonne vehicle, all the while there being a perfectly serviceable road just back from the beach. My militant pedestrian attitude could do nothing to get these dickheads to slow down, short of lying in front of their truck.
We also took in the dolphin feeding at Tunkenbah (aka Tin Can Bay). Here a café owner feeds two dolphins in a now well-established (and officially sanctioned) exercise. After the café owner’s recent run in with Queensland Parks and Wildlife Service over the applicability of feeding wild dolphins, this daily ritual has become even more popular; commonly 150-200 people turn-up at this quiet fishing village to line up and hand out fish to the dolphins.
About 3kg of fish, just 10% of their daily intake, is fed to them daily, thus meaning that the dolphins never become dependent on humans. James and Matthew got their turn too, and duly dropped a whiting in front of the dolphin which then kept it’s side of the bargain.
Photos at this page.
Rainbow Beach
Posted by Living with Matilda at 12:34 PM
This NP stretches north from Noosa Heads along 60km of beach to Inskip Point. From Inskip you can throw a rock across the channel to Fraser Island, where the wilderness continues another 175km. (Well you could if you could throw 1.5km, but it still seems very close.)
Rainbow Beach is a backpacker settlement at the northern end of the NP, facing a surf beach and backed by an amazing variety of vegetation types, from rainforest to paperbark swamp and sandy heath; rugged as you like.
That said, we stayed in a swanky apartment with a great view up the coast to Fraser. The apartment was the last developed block before you hit protected land and a short walk through forest to Carlow Sandblow.
Sandblows are what they sound like; huge expanses of sand, apparently blowing back from the ocean and piercing the forest. The sand islands and coasts of south east Queensland host many, including several giants on Fraser Island, and this one at Rainbow Beach.
The most plausible explanation is that they have resulted from human forest clearing, back from the beach, many thousands of years ago. Once the protective forest front has been pierced, the sand is simply blown inland, inundating everything in its path by incessant winds.
How they stop, if they stop, as yet to be witnessed. Either way, they are now part of the protected landscape and no effort is made to artificially arrest their spread. (Purists could argue that such human induced environments should be stabilised, yet they are now part of the ‘cultural’ landscape and, as such, left mostly alone. Another example is the cleared pastures of the Bunya Mountains; so long have they been artificially cleared by Aborigines that a number of species which inhabit the pasture would disappear if the rainforest was allowed to grow back.)
Carlow Sandblow provides a dramatic foreground to the wonderful coastline around to Double Island Point. It also a great place to watch various wind related activities (hang gliding, model gliding and paragliding) and indulge in champagne whilst watching the sun go down.
On the second day we ventured along a dirt road inland, the “Freshwater Track”, talking in a walk to the exquisite Poona Lake.
Poona Lake is flanked by rainforest, has white sand and is perched. That is, is sits below the water table, and the water is hence beautifully clear. It is quite the most idyllic spot, almost cliche.
Later, we ventured further into the forest and deeper into the sand until I got the car stuck, bottled out and turned back. We would have to make do with seeing postcards of the wrecked Cherry Venture, a rusted hulk, sat on the beach beyond our reach.
The beaches in this part of the world commonly resemble a motorway, with the Landcrusier and Tin boat set bashing the beaches in their droves. Three weeks ago a British tourist was seriously injured when he was run over on Fraser Island, whilst he was having a nap in the sand dunes.
Inskip Point is the jumping off point to Fraser Island, via a barge that simply drops its ramp on the beach. It's like a Piccadilly Circus in the wilderness, with trucks and cars pounding through the soft sand, whilst kids attempt to play on the beach and avoid being run over.
Nothing epitomises the seeming arrogance of 4WD drivers than their antics on the beach, not stopping for anyone through fear of getting bogged or washed away, only half in control of a three tonne vehicle, all the while there being a perfectly serviceable road just back from the beach. My militant pedestrian attitude could do nothing to get these dickheads to slow down, short of lying in front of their truck.
We also took in the dolphin feeding at Tunkenbah (aka Tin Can Bay). Here a café owner feeds two dolphins in a now well-established (and officially sanctioned) exercise. After the café owner’s recent run in with Queensland Parks and Wildlife Service over the applicability of feeding wild dolphins, this daily ritual has become even more popular; commonly 150-200 people turn-up at this quiet fishing village to line up and hand out fish to the dolphins.
About 3kg of fish, just 10% of their daily intake, is fed to them daily, thus meaning that the dolphins never become dependent on humans. James and Matthew got their turn too, and duly dropped a whiting in front of the dolphin which then kept it’s side of the bargain.
Photos at this page.
Posted by Living with Matilda at 12:34 PM
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| I am employed by Brisbane City Council. All views expressed in this blog are my own and in no way reflect the views of my employer. |
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