You have to hand it to people who run a caravan park for years and can continue to offer a quiet, friendly service inspite of the behaviour of some of their paying guests. Hillcrest is one such place. Our 'N' campsite was on the perimeter and had the luxury of being serviced by a tap mounted on the fence. 'N' overlooked the end of the road at the conclusion of the riverfront boardwalk. As we were to find out, probably not such a
strategic choice when the general public have a long weekend to
get tanked.
On this night the promised fish finally arrived in the form of a pub meal while we were made a meal of ourselves. Thankfully the expansion of Burrum Heads brings with it an IGA next to the pub. Quick march for insect repellent to encourage the mossies to go elsewhere. An occasional whiff of something putrid turned out to be eau de rotting seaweed courtesy of the sea breeze. The meals were standard pub fare and given the numbers being catered for,
served quickly. Back in the tent an attempt to catch zzz's was disturbed by the charming conversations and expletives of what I thought were four young adults on the turps. Turns out it was two generations of 'The Family'. Next morning Tom asked whether we had heard the police turn up twice to take the heat out of another gathering on the foreshore. Thankfully we were not privileged to
that fracas, just 'The Family', who upset other campers by carrying
deep into the night like the street light beaming into the side of the tent.
Australia Day. What better way to kick off than taking up the offer of a BBQ at the hall for breakfast and a chat with the locals, some of whom had moved to the area in the 1970s. On the way back we called into the general store where the woman on the
counter happily volunteered her husband to service the yabby pump.
'The Family' was keeping a low profile when we headed down to the water. The idea was to paddle to Toogum on the flood tide. Even though there was a slight SE, it was surprisingly slow going, as if we were in a giant eddy or maybe one snag would have been
enough for breakfast. Time for a swim to cool off out the front of Orchid Beach. The water was beautifully clear and I think I was tracked by a mobile log for a while. Being some distance from the other kayaks I really didn't want to look too closely for it was a large log, preferring to focus on the squadron of small manta ray as they passed by. Off Toogum the water shifted from
turquoise, to aqua then clear. Small boats were a plenty and when one looked like he had a snag, Tom's offer of assistance was met by indignant assertions of it being a fish. Maybe it was the one that got away. Either that or it would have won the fishing competition.
Tom's trolling did not pick up anything for the awaiting lemons
and limes. A coffee at the boat ramp cafe gave us a chance to admire the organisation that had gone into the competition. The tally board was a bit light on. People were friendly, quick and willing to help everyone on and off the ramp, kayaks
being no exception.
The SE wind was starting it's afternoon wind up and by the time
we paddled out through the channel we were in a metre beam sea with a brilliant sailing wind. We hooted it back (up to 14kph). With the swell growing, it was clear that coming in through the channel starting 4Km offshore into the mouth of the Burrum River was going to be the wise move. Tom also wanted to get a track of
this channel on his GPS. At one point he seemed to be heading for a marker we didn't know about. The UHF radios had been great throughout the trip and now was no exception. Rounding the
outermost channel marker to come in on a now following sea and a full sail, the Artic Raider put on her skittish best. She she lurched all over the place while Tom and Mark were admiring dugong. I was not happy with the limitation of my paddling and
couldn't get the sail down quick enough. We headed for the beach at the entrance to Woodgate National Park campsite for some respite and a swim. Here a deep channel flows close to shore, so that even it you have come through rough stuff, it is unlikely that you will have to deal with the finality of a surf landing.
By the time we got back to the caravan park we had the numbers.
The neighbouring two sites were sporting a little city of tents with a central marque. All other space was taken by a medley cars and kayaks. An unsuspecting young family in a camper trailer made a welcome barrier between 'N' and 'The Family'. Mark went to collect the yabby pump. As suspected the shaft had broken trying to release the wing nut. Get this -
we were given a 'loaner' at no charge until the pump was ready to collect the next day. So four of us went off the murder some yabbies while some bush walkers prayed for their salvation. After a long, make that looong walk we discovered that the yabby hunting grounds had been 10m over our shoulder towards the shore.
While that delivered some reprieve, pray all you like, those yabbies did not stand much chance with two pump handlers and encouraging noises coming from the wine drinkers.
The next morning we headed up the Burrum River given the persistent wind and well placed tides. Stopping at Buxton for a diverse morning tea made the boat ramp decidedly busy. Onto Pacific Haven for a shallow muddy swim, an early lunch and to
await the turn of the tide. Yabbies were put out with Carol pulling in a little bream, loosing the next one under a log and not getting to see the catch of the day. No one else got a bite, not even Tom as he trolled his way back along the banks. The last
leg of the paddle was a training session straight into the wind on a falling tide. Upon return the yabby pump was collected from the store and was like new for $15.00. We walked to the pub for dinner, this time armed with repellent for a feed of promised
fish. After dinner it was down to the waterline to catch a few snags and precious little else.
We woke to another beautiful morning and headed across the river towards the mouth so that those paddling the Able Tasman could practice getting in and out of their boat and experience some of the chop stirred up by the wind. Once on the water a call from
Mark's Mum invited us to join her and John for a BBQ lunch at Walkers Point. We left the bush walkers and kept going heading towards Burrum Point, coming across a docile dugong with bright linear white markings suggestive of a boat strike. Our beaching was brought on by a new sign 'Russells Rest'. We hadn't seen this before. The table's gal hex head bolts had no corrosion and the timber still smelt like creosote. With a wonderful outlook it is likely this is a tribute to Russell who
worked as a Ranger in the Woodgate National Park for 10 years before his untimely death six month earlier.
We didn't see the bush walkers on our return sail/paddle to Walkers Point. A limited number of bonza sized yabbies collected that morning failed to command a bite at he top of the tide. After sacrificing the yabbies we shared in a BBQ once the jets
were cleared of mud nests. As we ferry glided across to Burrum Heads Mark lashed out like he was in training for the Hawkesbury.
By now the campsite was now deserted. In fact make that Burrum Heads. After dinner we went for a dark wander along the board walk to watch the moon rise. By 10pm she was still a no show. Not sure what happened - she had been reliable before.
The ground in the caravan park might as well have been granite instead of packed sand. A fine film of dust coated everything so a swim in the pool did not go amiss before hitting the road in search of the world's best camping store. While it might not be an REI store, the place in Maryborough opposite the EPA has to
get points for it's range of stock. The Hervey Bay stores were disappointing for their lack of diversity and one in particular a
heist.
One great find was the Information Centre at Yandina. It was a stinking hot day and there were no shady trees or shelters with tables to be found in town. Mark got cheeky and asked the people at the Information Centre if we could please have our packed
lunch on the verandah if we bought a coffee/tea. Not only were we made welcome but the Earl Grey Tea arrived without milk and the coffee was delicious. Take note Dave as this friendly service was delivered in an historic setting with a price tag well below Wild Bean.
Returning amidst flowing traffic you have to wonder why not make it Australia week ? Next time I would be prepared to battle the conditions to hole up at One Mile Creek and listen to the wind in the casuarinas - I think they have more to say than 'The Family'. Certainly take plenty of provisions as the pelicans will have all the fish there are to catch in the creek.
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