Day-trippers sand up for adventure Moreton Island

SANDBOARDING, snorkeling and a beach picnic: this adventure has all the ingredients for an island thrill, writes Kara Murphy.

LETTING the "easy, safe and fast" Masonite board embrace the massive sand hill with its smooth, candle-waxed side, I adopt proper sandboarding position, laying belly down and settling my hips against its rougher side.

To ensure the board's rear harbours most of my weight, I wiggle in that direction; finally, using a chicken wing-style grasp, I lift the front as high as possible to avoid future sand swallowing and downhill somersaults.

Knees bent and bare feet saluting the sky, I ask the all-important question before Liz, my sandboarding guru, gives me a push: "How do I stop?"

"You can't stop," Liz grins, "or control direction. But you can dig your feet in the sand to slow down."

And with that, sunglass-protected eyes focused ahead like a serious sand-based bobsledder, I'm off, blazing down one of many hills in the vegetation-surrounded desert – a Moreton Island sand blow – and revealing my decidedly un-Olympic qualities by grazing the sand with my toes to slow my descent.

My chicken-wing stance proves feeble; near the bottom, sand finds its way into almost every available orifice from the neck up. Chewing gum instantly becomes a disgusting mouth exfoliant; my scalp becomes caked with half a centimetre of grit. My brother, waiting at the bottom, nearly plummets in laughter when he sees the sand covering my face like a thick layer of crunchy and poorly applied make-up.

As we pant for breath after trudging up the steep hill, Liz mentions that her favourite way to sled down the dunes is tandem, where one person maintains the solo position and the other sits upright on their bum. Of course, I must try it – and as I'm probably half my brother's size, there's no question who will ride where.

The thrilling tandem ride, significantly faster and much more palatable than going solo (my face isn't the one close to the sand), is quite literally a blast – especially on the second go, where I forget to wear my sunnies and end up with an unpleasant sand castle in my eyes.

Liz notes that the record number of rides is nine in 30 minutes; however, half that amount of downwards rush and upwards labour proves plenty enough for us.

After watching Liz zoom down the hill without acquiring even one grain of sand on her face or clothing, we ride to the beach facing the Tangalooma Wrecks, on the island's western side, via an inland four-wheel-drive track. Here, Liz distributes two new sets of snorkeling equipment and a picnic lunch in souvenir cooler bags before leaving us to enjoy the rest of our day on the island.

The nearby campground offers facilities for changing into our swimmers and blowing gobs of sand from our noses. Before getting wet, however, we relax on the shore, savouring sandwiches and a slice of carrot cake while contemplating what good value this Beach Adventure package is.

For just a little more than twice the cost of a return passenger fare to Moreton aboard Micat, a 57.6m catamaran, you also get a sandboarding experience, snorkeling equipment (to keep), morning or afternoon tea, and lunch.

Another matter demanding contemplation is the 30m high-tide swim to the wrecks, across a channel, which, at the moment, no one else is braving. The 15 hulks were originally sunk offshore to give shelter for boat anchorage; several boats are fulfilling this purpose, their occupants either fishing or feeding fish – but not snorkeling. I'm wondering how many sharks are lining up, hoping for a taste of the yummy cake icing beneath my fingernails when a family shouts, "Dolphin!"

Quickly donning my mask and flippers, I jump in the water, ecstatic at the prospect of finally realising my dream of swimming with dolphins offshore, and ... I sadly can't summon the courage to swim more than a couple of metres offshore.

Still keen to snorkel around the wrecks, but intent on giving the channel swim a miss, we walk south for 15 minutes along the beach towards Tangalooma Wild Dolphin Resort, hiring a double kayak ($8 per 30 minutes) from a cheerless young man in the sports shop.

Moments after our paddles touch water, a large sea turtle nearby continually bobs for air. This alone makes the 20-minute paddle back to the wrecks worth the effort. Once there, we retrieve the snorkeling equipment from shore and safely clear the channel.

The moment of truth, of snorkeling, has arrived, but neither of the kayak's paranoid occupants wishes to expose our sweet, sandy bodies to the creatures of the deep. So we happily explore the rusty barnacle-laden wrecks by paddling around them, spying plenty of crabs scaling the structures – and several braver adventurers swimming around the wrecks' edges, peering down at the sea life below.

On the journey back to Brisbane, we sit on Micat's open, upper deck, taking in the distant, violet outline of the Glass House Mountains.

Our courage levels were at low tide when it came to snorkeling, but we go home exhausted and exhilarated anyway, rapt with the day's adventure and agreeing that sometimes a touch of fear factor adds to the excitement.

The writer was a guest of Micat.

Sunday Mail (QLD)