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Another blast from the past - Moreton Island, old school Milo! Overshadowed by the world class reputation of Fraser Island just up the road and nowhere near as established as Stradbroke Island to the south, Moreton Island is the real jewel in this trio of Brisbane-handy sandy spots. Even though it’s right next door I’ve only been to Moreton a few times, always by boat and never for more than a slide down a sand hill and a bit of a fish off the beach - neither of which I’m much good at but hey, at least the mates get a laugh…
Moreton got missed - at least in Rooth family planning, something I’m not much good at, ask any of our little ‘accidents’ - because we knew Straddie so we went there or everyone wanted to go to Fraser instead! But the internal tracks on Stradbroke have almost all been closed to off-road driving and the growing overseas tourist mayhem on Fraser suggests we should keep our best secrets instead of telling the world. Moreton got missed on both those scores too.
But it sure didn't miss down at the pub...
“Yer goin’ where? Bloody Moreton? S’pose they’re payin’ ya too ya bastard?”
Chooka laughed and grabbed Porker and Kev as they walked through the door. “Oi! Porkfat! Guess where this lucky prick’s goin’ for the next DVD trip? Bloody Moreton! How’d’ya fool them into that?” he said, staring me out.
“Well, we wanted to do something close because the readers like to know about the close to home trips too. And Milo’s copped a hammering lately. This is sort of a ‘run her in again’ run after the build up…”
“Bullshit,” chipped in Fat Kev, “you’ve just gone all soft you big whooz . You’ll be filming the next DVD out the back of the pub I reckon. ‘See Milo climb the bottleshop gutter without lockers…’ Moreton? You lucky bastard…”
See what happens when you’re sober? Nobody pays any attention. Here am I trying to talk about work and my bludger mates all think I’m on some huge scam! The fact is that Moreton Island isn’t just part of the legend of Queensland life, it’s one of the anchors. There’s plenty of places you can drive down a beach, camp behind the waves and watch the stars above the fire but on Moreton it’s still available in it’s purest form. My fishing mates - which is just about all of them except for Doc Zig Zag, watching him put bait on a hook is messier than open heart surgery - worship Moreton Island.
So they all know it well. This was going to be tricky…
“There’s no tough four wheel driving there anymore Johnno,” said Porker, who spends most weekends tying his TJ in knots, “it’s all designated tracks and they’ve even put conveyor belt down on the lighthouse tracks. My mum could do it in her Lada easy when we were kids and those tracks are shut now. It’s too easy. Even Kev could drive it mate…”
We will see!
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