A semi-serious adventure

The white buildings of Townsville shrank beyond an expanding channel as the ferry sped across the water to Magnetic Island. Named because of the magnetic effect it had on the ship's compass of Captain Cook as he sailed past, it lies 11km off the mainland with two thirds a national park of mountains, forests and beaches, all home to an array of wildlife.

From the rusting balcony of our a-framed beach hut we looked out on a brilliant sea view. Yet our interest was inland. With only one night's stay we wanted to see more of the island that just the beach. Starting along the coastline, past palm lined bays of sand and crushed shell, we sought the trailhead of the popular Forts Walk with its ruins, views and chance to see wild koala.

The sun simmered down on our shoulders as the road and then poorly maintained track steadily inclined. Undeterred by a lack of signposting we came upon the trailhead after an hour and a half. Stocking up on water under scant shade we continued our march up through the hillside. As long as it was taking we found our stride and soon the straight edges of the old fort became visible above the tree line.

The fort was built to monitor and defend shipping lanes during the Second World War. It's guns are long gone (mysteriously and swiftly after the Japanese armistice to a destination still unknown) and only ghostly concrete ruins remain. Climbing up to the command post and signal tower at the very top of the hillside gave us 300 degree views of the coastline. Huge boulders and forest tumbled away in ridge lines to small coves of sandy beach below.

With the sun on our faces and a breeze at our backs we felt the success of the hike turn the corners of our mouths. Yet what we saw as we began our descent impressed us far more.

Nestled in the crook of a tree branch 3 metres above the trail sat a koala mother and her child. The mother's arms were wrapped around the trunk whilst her baby child clung to her back. The mother appeared to doze, whilst it's child fidgeted, causing the the mother to gently remind it to settle, just a human parent might do.

Their eyes and noses were points of jet black, set in the fine carpet of cashmere grey fur, fringed with white. The mother's long claws sat deep into the bark, reminding us of the wild and potentially dangerous nature of these animals, not to be misjudged by the 'cuddly' stereotypes of cartoon images.

In hushed silence we sat and watched, not believing our luck at seeing such animals in the wild, particularly a mother and its child.
Buoyed we made our way back down the rocky path, squeezing past tree and rock as the brown husks of dead eucalyptus leaves crunched beneath our feet.

The sun set over ridge lines of stony forest, which were now rising back up around us. Stopping to rest on a bed of crushed shell in a quiet bay, we watched swimmers train in the water before mentally pushing ourselves to get back up and finish our hike.

As the sky turned purple and our hostel was within our grasp we stopped for dinner at small restaurant on a road junction. We sat outside as the friendly French owner served us large burgers and fries that were gratefully consumed. The salty fat of the beef and bacon mingled with the egg, onions, and salad that all sat in the toasted bun. With smiles and full stomaches we staggered back in the dark before falling asleep in bed to the rhythmic applause of waves breaking on the beach.Les mer