Wide-open spaces around Moreton Island. Photo / Getty Images
Wide-open spaces around Moreton Island. Photo / Getty Images
Eli Orzessek rides the wild dunes and finds adventures in the water.
Sometimes you've got to put in some hard yakka just for a few seconds of excitement.
Along with a full intermediate school group from Japan, I'm bundled into a 4WD bus that will take us through the rough and bumpy, bush-lined roads of Moreton Island to reach the desert hidden within.
Once we arrive, it's a spectacular sight: vast, rolling golden sand dunes, contrasted against a deep blue sky. It looks like something out of Star Wars and it's enough to stop the kids chattering for a bit as we tumble out of the bus.
We're here to carve up these immense hills on big bendy planks of wood. After a bilingual demonstration of the techniques we'll need to avoid face-planting in the sand, everyone's itching to hit the slopes — but first, you need to get to the top.
It's easily the most challenging part of the activity, stepping up and falling back in the sand, over and over again. Even the young and fit are having some trouble and I'm making liberal use of my sandboard as an impromptu walking stick. Once I reach the top, I'm doubled over and wheezing, but it's worth it — the view from the top is even more incredible than the bottom.
Eli Orzessek on Moreton Island.
The key to sandboarding, we're told, is to pull the front of the board towards you and keep your elbows up — this will stop a healthy dose of sand ending up in your face. I'm at the end of the line, so by the time I've reached the front, I've learned the Japanese word for elbows — maybe that will come in handy someday.
I make the rookie mistake of letting out a small bellow as I'm launched down the slope, which results in a mouthful of sand. But the ride to the bottom is exhilarating and I've quickly forgotten that walk to the top — who could say no to another hoon down the hill?
A mere 75 minutes by ferry, Moreton Island is one of those destinations locals will say they've been meaning to visit their whole lives — as was the way with my drivers both to and from the terminal, much like Aucklanders who have never been to Waiheke. It is home to Tangalooma Resort, most visitors go for a few days of sun and sand — but it's also the perfect spot for a day trip from Brisbane.
Back in the city, the closest thing to a beach is the fake one on the South Bank of the river. Although sand and chlorinated water is a strangely compelling combination, nothing beats the real thing — and Tangalooma serves it up in spades.
On my arrival at Moreton Bay, I'm treated to something I've never seen before — a close up view of a pelican catching fish by the wharf. If you've never seen it before, it's quite a technique — the long neck winds right back until just the right moment ... then bang! It shoots forward, snaps up a minnow, throws its head back and chugs it down.
The beach is bordered by an artificial reef made of sunken boats dating back to the 1960s, which has created a snorkelling spot that really furthers that desert-island feel — plus, the water feels amazing after all that sandboarding.
I've been snorkelling many times before but I don't think I've seen quite as plentiful and friendly fish as I have here. Thick schools of them swim right up to your mask and you've practically got to push them away to keep up with the guide.
The highlight of my underwater tour was a spectacular view of the biggest wobbegong shark I've ever seen, cruising along the deck of a wreck like an overgrown catfish. Others in the group start to look nervous at the sound of the s-word, but these cute little bottom-feeders aren't much danger to humans. They're almost so ugly they're cute, with their name roughly translating to "shaggy beard" in Aboriginal languages — if you see one, you'll know why.
As we're finishing up, the sun setting over the water signals it's nearly time for Tangalooma Resort's crown jewel — the feeding of the wild bottlenose dolphins that frequent the shores every night. It's a tradition that dates back to the 1980s and the family who have run the resort all these years. A dolphin they named Eric paid a visit, but was later found to be female when "he" returned with a calf they called Bobo. Eric was quietly renamed Beauty and her family became the most frequent visitors to Moreton Bay.
After cleaning my hands of any leftover chilli from our Szechuan cuisine dinner — I'm not sure if dolphins enjoy spicy food — I'm ready to wade waist-deep into the water. A staff member is waiting, along with a rather strapping dolphin circling hungrily around her legs. It's so strapping in fact, that I'm quite surprised to hear it's a she and her name is Tinkerbell — and she's actually the daughter of the famous Beauty. I don't need to do much more than hold out my fish — Tink's an old pro at this — and she quickly nips it out of my hand. That's my ration for the night — the feeds are carefully measured to make sure the dolphins don't start taking too much advantage of this handout culture.
We're cutting it close for the last ferry back, but feeding these beautiful creatures is a must-do on Moreton.
CHECKLIST
Getting there:Emirates flies a daily A380 service between Auckland and Brisbane.
