Sea mist shrouded the end of the Urangan jetty, Big Woody and Fraser Island. The last of the incoming tide washed under the bellies of the kayaks as the final items were lashed to the rear deck or tossed in the cockpit.
We heaved off the fine smooth sand into a quiet expanse. The distant mist smudged ships into ghosts.
A slight breeze puffed in revealing the vestige of Moon Banks adorned with grass, a sign, tree hulks and a large plastic crate. The water around the banks was exquisitely clear, the conditions so calm we glided up the eastern side in less than a foot of
water.
We slid in for a leg stretch and morning tea on Coongul Point before we continued north with the tide in our favour. The northerly breeze had other ideas and was just strong enough to be annoying. As we approached Woralie 4WD started to appear on the beach. By Bowarrady a gaggle of 4WD groupies were clustered north of the creek. While the campsite at Bowaraddy was pleasingly
deserted, the creek was sluggish. A deep tannin colour and drifts of what looked like weed obscured the bottom. The creek nows swungs into and hugs the base of the sand cliff for around 200m before turning and emptying into the bay. We decided endearing company was worth the tradeoff for the more reliable creek at Awinya.
We slipped by colourful sand cliffs which I find always find disturbingly ghoulish - like 3D renditions of Edvard Munch's "The Scream". We arrived in the early afternoon on the ebb of the tide fortuitously coming between two sandbars, narrowly avoiding an ignominious end to what had been a long paddle. Two lumps of
white sand pushed up by 4WD tyres marked the entrance to the campsite. While deserted, it was littered with rubbish which, this time, did not include a complementary full bottle of wine in the creek. The solar shower went out before a leisurely set up of camp while Chris parked up in his hammock for a snooze.
We enjoyed our sundowners while the sun sunk into a cloud bank. Dinner was devoured and we crashed for an early night.
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