Train to points north

Airlie Beach

Outback
The morning sun struggles to illuminate the barren interior lands of Australia north of Sydney. There is little evidence of civilization at the eastern edge of the Outback.

Train to points north, 12.08-10.05

Remote control: My rail pass takes me to the hinterlands of Australia. Even more than New Zealand, these are barren lands where any signs of civilization are scarce. One can ride for a half hour or more on a train before seeing a road or farmhouse. The only signs of life are the constant fence along the railroad track, scattered herds of pale brahma cattle or a muddy track indicating the passage of a four-wheel-drive vehicle.

Trees Scrawny vegetation hangs on til the next rain shower. Trees that can't hold out somehow manage to stay propped up like ghostly presences long after their demise.

Persistent vegetative state: The contrast in flora between New Zealand and Australia is striking. New Zealand averages 9 feet of rain per year, so the landscape is generally lush, carpeted with huge sturdy trees providing canopies of shade over oceans of brilliantly green grass. Australia is much drier in comparison giving rise to forests of scraggly white-trunked trees that remain standing long after they die and look like skeletal hands reaching skyward above weed choked brown fields.

What a long strange trip, part one: Being inherently a cheap ass, I elected to take the night train from Sydney to Brisbane, which saves a night of lodging because, in theory, it is possible to sleep on the train, leaving the frugal traveler ready to go upon arrival in the morning. The "express" train, as it turned out, stopped every half hour or hour over the course of a 16-hour train ride. If that was the express train, one can only imagine the regular train must stop every few minutes; there are that many stations along the course of the journey. Stopping that often meant that a regular shuffle of scruffy backpackers getting on and off all night, headed to or returning from "Gold Coast" destinations. The Gold Coast is Australia's equivalent to spring break in Fort Lauderdale, if Fort Lauderdale was 150 miles long and spring break was year round. The commotion was daunting at times, the snoring a constantly evolving symphony.

WomanWhat a long strange trip it's been, part two: After spending a day in Brisbane, I didn't want to repeat the previous night's mistake, so I upgraded the next evening to what the Aussies call a Tilt Train, business-class rail transportation with a decidedly more luxurious flavor. It had catered dining, personal on-demand video and spacious if only somewhat more comfortable seats. Of course, it also had its share of snooty travelers with bad haircuts who didn't want to have anything to do with scruffy American drifters.

The language of golf: Kiwis and Aussies speak a common golf language, differing, so far, on only one term. What we call electric- or gas-powered golf carts, the Kiwis call trundlers and the Aussies call buggies. Aside from that, they both very formally wish their companions good luck when a putt is for par or birdie, and they mutter "hard luck" if what they perceive to be an easy shot is somehow missed. An impressive drive from the tee will likely elicit a "blimey!" in response.

Screen
The Tilt Trian offers a chance to view the track immediately ahead of the train even if the passenger doesn't want to open the curtains and look at the scenery passing by immediately outside. Train-cam is a mesmerizing example of reality television, here seen at shortly before 5 a.m. south of the whistle stop town of St. Lawrence.
Tree
A flower-draped rata tree indicates the arrival of Christmas according to the Kiwis and Aussies. The beachside tree, standing in the Airlie Beach Sailing Club's storage yard, and a raucous flock of wild parrots roosting in the trees behind it welcomed the coolness of the approaching evening. Stifling heat and humidity are common this time of year.

Airlie Beach, 12.10.05

Tropical punch: North of Brisbane is serious tropical terrain. Rainforest is common. The summer heat and humidity is oppressive. Civilization adapts by slowing down and seeking air conditioning. The manana mentality is evident. A manmade fresh water lagoon adjacent to the town's picturesque beach is packed much of the day; the waters off the beach are empty because of the threat of the deadly box jellyfish.

Historical note: The many bays of the Whitsundays Islands off Airlie Beach were where the United States' carrier fleet hid out after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor and before its crucial victory at the battle of Midway.

Warning
Consider this fair warning - coastal areas north of Brisbane are fully exposed to the box jellyfish, the most poisonous creature in the world, drifting in with the prevailing northerly winds. A beach sign hits the high points of the danger. Someone or something gnawed off the bottom of the sign, which points out the minor aspects of box jelly stings. Apparently there aren't any minor aspects of box jelly stings worth noting.

BoatCall me Ishmael: My main reason for diverting to Airlie Beach, an otherwise forgettable beach town, was to participate in a three-day voyage on one of several historical sailing ships moored at the town's impressive breakwater marina. The Solway Lass, a square-rigged freighter built in northern Europe in 1902, was the next ship heading out, so I signed on. It has a long, fascinating history (sunk in the Baltic Sea during World War I among other mishaps) and proves to be a rewarding experience. Unfortunately, because of the prevalence of deadly box jellyfish along Australia's northeastern coastline throughout the winter (nine tourists had been seriously stung in the previous week alone according to the crew), passengers were required to wear hot neoprene wet suits whenever in the water.

South bound: Australia and New Zealand must be the only nations that regularly devote news coverage to Antarctica. Several newspapers include Scott Base on the frozen continent among their weather page temperature listings and forecasts, probably as comic relief during the balmy summer.

Sails
A crewman adjusts the rigging aloft on the Solway Lass. Summer winds were slack and moving under sail wasn't much of an option during the three-day outing, but brisk northeasterly winds on the final day gave the trip a thrilling finish.

The price is right: Prices in New Zealand and Australia usually include their customary GST taxes, and it is generally understood that service staff don't require or expect tips, so the bill is usually accurate as presented and doesn't require further calculations. Because service workers don't expect to be tipped, they take a no-nonsense approach to their jobs and don't fawn over clients to solicit gratuities.

BusterAye aye, captain: Every ship has a captain, and the Solway Lass had Buster, a crusty, pipe-smoking veteran who never relinquished the helm and whose word was the unquestioned law. His crew studied his moods and movements and jumped when he barked. Still, he was a fair and, at times, engaging soul who dutifully called his wife on his cell phone every evening after the anchor was dropped and all was right in his small world. He was exposed to the harsh Australian sun so much that he often swathed sun block on his weather-beaten face in broad creamy swatches. What he lacked in fashion sense, he made up for in seamanship. Watching him maneuver an aged 110-foot one-time coal-hauling barge into a tight berth was a source of inspiration even to land lubbers.

Gary
Fat and happy, an American in paradise contentedly sweats and lolls on deck between regular and impressive feedings. U.S. aircraft carriers once hid in this bay after the attack on Pearl Harbor.
Copyright Gary Olson 2010