19 June 2011 - Boyne River Rest Area, near Banarby, Queensland

Here we are back again beside the Boyne River. Sunday afternoon is already closing in, looking as if the night may turn out as cold as last. Alas this caravan is as poorly insulated as any other. According to Chris the only caravans with decent insulation are those manufactured by England’s Bailey’s, who have recently started catering for those who want to travel outside the heat of summer. 

After lunch yesterday we wandered up to the Heritage Village which is adjacent to the riverside camping area. The museum is made up of twenty re-located houses, a railway station, a school, an airport terminal, halls, a church and the like. As with most museums of this type, it is run by enthusiastic volunteers who have lots of time, but little resources and even fewer years left to them. The grounds are certainly well maintained and it is evident that a lot of work has gone into the relocation and initial restoration, but there the matter stands. To say I was not impressed would be unfair because there were two displays that particularly stood out; the railway carriage which had a corridor running down the side and the seating in booths, just as I have seen in films but never in reality and the authentic slab hut, cracks in the floors and walls included. Chris was even more impressed with this than I. Certainly they were a hardy lot that lived in these dwellings, far more so that the woosey lot that live now (me included).

 

When we returned to the caravan nearly two hours later, we counted about ninety camper parties in. A fellow camper did a later count arriving at one hundred. It is an under-statement to say that the Calliope River Rest Area is an incredibly popular spot.

Geoff, Denise, Charlie and Sue had gone off for the day into Gladstone, asking that we keep an eye on their unhitched vans. This we did but really quite unnecessarily. There were many who had done the same, and the calibre of the campers in suggested that nothing untoward would occur.

We wandered down to see them once we saw the smoke rising from their camp fire early in the evening, to find out what they had been up to during the day. Our intention was to spend only ten minutes or so with them, but we ended up staying more than half an hour. When we finally left, we had all swapped notes as to our future routes and parted sure that we would meet again in the not too distant future.

This morning we woke to seven degrees, later than normal, to yet another glorious day. The notices for the camp spell out that the space is available for travellers for no more than forty eight hours. There was a general exodus of those who had done their time, us included.

Lake Awoonga

We travelled about twenty kilometres south back along the Bruce Highway toward Benarby on the Boyne River, and then inland for about eight kilometres to the Awoonga Dam, the water storage reservoir for Gladstone. We intended to park up on the shore and pass our sunny Sunday walking, picnicking and relaxing. Alas the recreation area parking is minimal and steep, not really conducive to rigs such as ours. We did however find a spot high on the banks, screened from the shore, beside the road and lunched before walking down to the lake and along a well formed dirt walking track.

This dam is famed for its excellent fishing, apparently on the Bass to Barramundi Trail. Since 1996 in excess of two million barramundi fingerlings have been released into the lake, just waiting to grow up and be landed onto a dinner platter. Strange to say, weekend and all, we did not see too many fishermen. Perhaps it is not the season?

I am fascinated by the fact that the water reservoirs here in Australia, at least those we have visited, are edged by the dead trees submerged by the rising water. I have never seen this in New Zealand in the many man made lakes we have visited. Perhaps this is because the trees that would otherwise be lost (in New Zealand) are considered too valuable to discount, and are milled for timber before the dam is filled, whereas the trees here are generally gum and seem to be considered quite dispensable, because after all, so many of them are consumed by fire, even if in a controlled fashion.

We came away from the lake, rather disappointed in some respects, and returned to this camp on the Boyne River, downstream from the dam, pulling in at about three o’clock. Already there were about ten lots of campers in, many of whom are parked in the “No Camping” section of the rest area. Why do they do that? I do wish the powers that be would enforce these regulations regularly, rather than wait until the facility has been abused.