The Holiday From Hell

 

The way not to visit Agnes Waters, 1770 and the Dingo Bay region !

 

Several weeks ago Katherine and I went for a holiday up north. We planned to go to Agnes Waters and the Town of 1770. We left Brisbane late one Thursday morning and only travelled 30km out of town before the car started to vibrate pretty badly. We decided to turn around to head back. I thought it was an inner CV, but it later on it turned out to be the ball-joints. Anyway, just after we turned around the problem seemed to fix itself so we turned around again and once more headed north. Should have taken that as an omen for the trip to come. We arrived that night at Deepwater National Park and on an easy track in we managed to get stuck. We were travelling too slowly and the car got hung up in some deep ruts. After a bit of digging and a few more revs the problem was solved.. We found a campsite at Middle Rocks and had a good nights sleep. In the morning we explored some of the park, heading down to Wreck Rock for a look. The camping area was okay, but we wanted to find a campsite where we could have a campfire. Just out of the national park we turned off as I saw an interesting looking track that I thought might lead to a good campsite. What a mistake!

The track wasn't that bad at first, until we got to a section where we had to no option but to keep going down. The path dropped off at about 45 degrees and was made of dried red clay. I couldn't reverse up the last part of the path we’d just been down, and couldn't turn around, so down we went. I was in low range first with the hand brake almost locked and it looked like we were going to go ass over. We ended up sliding down most of the way. It was only about 15 meters, but it was ridiculously steep. Anyway before we had gone down that bit we’d seen another track that we could take out so we kept going. After that drop-off we reached the top of a sandy decline and decided that we would turn around there. That was when things really started getting bad.

In the process of turning around the ground gave way and the car slid sideways down onto the sandy track. We decided that the best bet was to drive down the track to the bottom and then get some momentum to make it back up. We got to the bottom (beach shore) of the 150 meters of soft sand and turned around. Then back up we headed. At least tried to! The sand was pretty soft and the wheels kept losing traction. I would hit the hill at about 40 km/hr (floored in second), but the momentum would be lost going over a series of tree roots that transformed the sandy track into moguls. After 20 attempts and a hell of a lot of swearing we still couldn't get past half way. It was now noon. I gave it all that I could and got up the hill as far as I could and then killed the engine. We jacked the car up and packed wood on the track, but the tyres wouldn't gain any purchase on the slope. We tried digging, let the tires down to 15 psi, everything but the car would not go any further up the hill. In the end we decided to pull out the hand winch. It was a new 4 tonne hand puller with a gain of about 5 ft each time before it needed to be reset. Anyway we winched and dug for about 4 hrs and then the winch started to play up. We continued to winch and dig for another 9 hours (13 hrs total!) and managed to get within 10 meters of the top. It was then that the winch decided to completely pack it in. So close yet so far!

Being so frustrated and having run out of our somewhat vast array of swear words, we decided to call it a day and pitched the tent on the track. After dinner at 2 am cooked on a roaring campfire, we hit the hay hoping the morning would bring a solution. In the morning we dug and tried to winch for a further 2 hours before giving up. We then walked out onto the main track and looked for help. Some people kindly stopped to help, but none of them would take their ‘newish’ Patrols or Landcruisers down the track! How soft. In the end we tried a rope pulley system and with about ten people pushing and another five pulling, and finally got over the last 5 meters. They were then all sceptical that we could make it up the rest of the hill, but in true subaru fashion the car easily conquered the rest of the hill, using the bypass track to avoid the really steep hill we had come down. Once on top we cracked open a beer celebrated. We had been stuck on that hill for 25 hrs!

After that we travelled a short distance to Eurimbula National Park and set up camp there for two days. On the dirt track on the way in (flat 2WD track), I somehow managed to get a stone through the side-wall of the tire, causing it to blowout at 60 km/hr. We managed to stop OK and as we were changing the tyre the people that had helped us out that morning drove by and had a laugh. The weather turned miserable and started pouring down with rain. We had a look around 1770 and the Cape nearby, before deciding to bail the area and head further north. All the bad things that happened soured our impression of the area, so we left for Airlee Beach up near the Whitsundays, to start afresh.

We drove up and looked for this place to camp that some people had told us about. There was supposed to be a great bush-camping area, but of course this place didn't exist or the directions were wrong. We ended up hearing about another camping place from some locals, and went there for a look late in the afternoon. The places to camp were along Nelly Beach that was reached via a five kilometre track from Dingo Bay. The track was rocky, but relatively easy, however when we came around the last corner, boom, a rock went through the sidewall of the front tire. Since we had driven all that day from Agnes Waters, we had not yet had the opportunity to fix (replace) the other blown tire.

So here we were stuck 5km from the nearest place with two blown tires. We decided to carry the blown spare back to Dingo Bay and ring the RACQ to see if they could get a spare tire down there. After walking the 5 km into Dingo Bay, a town with only a general store and a few run-down houses, we reached the phone. The people there were pretty rough and stared at us strangely, particularly at Katherine. It was not the sort of place that you would want to break down in, especially at night. The RACQ operator took all our details, and then she asked where the car was. She said that they couldn't bring out a spare tyre, only tow us. We told her where the car was located and she immediately said that they couldn't help because we weren't on bitumen and that it would cost about $200 dollars to get a private operator in tow us out. It was now dark, and we were not going to pay $200 for a 5 km tow! The costs were weighed up: $200 for a tow, or $25 for a new rim and hopefully no suspension damage. The latter was chosen so we walked back to the car hoping that it would be alright. The drive back to the road was exceptionally slow and difficult with only the remains of a tire on one rim. I was in low range first and having to ride the clutch to go slow enough. Going over several of the rocky sections provided a nice spark display and the car swayed around everywhere. After an hour of this we finally made it back to bitumen and started to drive with the bare rim on the grass. The noise was quite loud and some of the locals came out to see what was happening. One local was nice enough to let us use their phone and call the RACQ again. This time they said they would call the local RACQ operator and call us back. He rang back at 1 am and asked if it could wait until morning. We told him that we did not have any accommodation and that we needed help tonight. He said that he would try to find a spare, or otherwise he would tow us to the nearest tyre place (37.5 km away!). The RACQ guy arrived at about 3 am and as luck would have it, he just happened to live next door to the local tyre dealer. He had rung him up and they came out together with a selection of tyres to get us going again. After replacing one tyre, they happily took off home back to bed.

Finally we were on our way again. Off to the nearest caravan park for a well needed nights rest. Wrong! 100 m down the road the car lights dimmed and then the battery died. #@%$!!!! It was as if we were not destined to leave that place. Up came the bonnet, and seeing that the torch batteries had died already, it was an under-bonnet inspection with a cigarette lighter. Not the safest or most comfortable way! It turned out the alternator drive belt had completely disintegrated. Fortunately I happened to have a spare, buried of course in the middle of the car. After that was replaced, we made our way to a camping ground, paid our money and slept like logs.

From then on the holiday was great. We stayed in a cheap caravan park ($8 per site/night) called the Black Stump, near Airlee Beach and had glorious sunny weather and blue skies. We were allowed to have campfires right near our tent and had a private grove with peace and quiet. One day we boarded one of the charter boats to the Great Barrier Reef and spent the day snorkelling in warm, crystal clear water full of fish and coral. We also went charter fishing and had a ball, but alas only caught several small fish. It actually felt like we were on holidays for those last few days. We had a look around Airlee Beach and Shute harbour, and went bushwalking through the Conway National Park. We would have liked to visit Eungella National Park, however time did not permit us this trip. It sounds like a great place to go with magical scenery, the longest continuous stretch of rainforest in Australia, and plenty of 4WD tracks.

As always, just when you get in the swing of a holiday, it comes to an end. We began the long drive home, stopping near Yeppoon overnight. After visiting the local markets in the morning, we made it back to Brisbane in one piece, well at least we did, but I’m not so sure about the car.

Morals of this story:

 

Andrew Norris SC471