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 Flopping into the gin clear water of Lake Mackenzie, the cool fresh water eased the swelling in my overheated feet. Midway through a 25km walk on Fraser Island, I wondered if we had underestimated the challenge of this trek, as we’re now weary, hot, hungry and somewhat reluctant to carry on. We lolled in the turquoise shallows beneath a cloudless blue sky. Watching a dingo trot casually out of the forest and onto the sand I was relieved that we had hung our backpacks containing lunch in a tree before we collapsed into the water.
Fraser Island has one of eastern Australia’s purest populations of wild dingoes, which, with the influx of tourists, are losing their natural fear of humans. Scavenging for food scraps has become increasingly troublesome behaviour for these cunning carnivores. Nearby, others had also noticed the dingo, amused as it idly sniffed through piles of belongings on the beach. Abruptly the dingo snatched a string bag in its teeth, bounded up the beach and disappeared into the bush with it.
“Hey that’s my bag,” one of the girls further out in the lake cried out in a German accent, while others in the group laughingly captured the dingo’s fleeing rear end on their cameras. “It’s got my passport in it!” she shrieked, as she bolted up the beach, waving her arms in pursuit of the fleet footed dingo.
Retreating to the comfort of Kingfisher Bay Lodge many hours later, my feet resemble bleeding stumps inside my inadequate shoes. Though these wounds will heal in time, I can’t help thinking of the troubles in store for a German tourist trying to explain to disbelieving authorities that a dingo stole her passport. Sounds suspiciously like the old ‘dog ate my homework’ line. Guileful as they are, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if I saw one crafty dingo at the airport trying to board a plane to Berlin.
Looking for a humourous piece with a little tongue in cheek? Commission this piece by Fiona Harper which can run to around 600 - 800 words. Images are available. www.pbase.com/fionaharper/fraserisland
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