Dugong patting season was over; it had turned into a thing of the past. There was so much to do on DHI that it was impossible to plan what you were going to do, everything came naturally.

A few days after our trip around the bay, the Wardle family were off. They had gone on their own little holiday, and they had left us in charge of the homestead. They also asked Dad to take a trailer of wooden planks up to the lighthouse at the northern end of DHI. This was a perfect opportunity to see more of the brilliant island.

The next day we had packed the car full with food, fishing rods, camping gear and hooked up the trailer full of planks. We were ready for another adventure. With not far to go, we had planned to be there in less than an hour, though it takes a lot longer along a boggy 4WD track.

Half an hour later we had made it about ten kilometres, and with 40km to go we were already frustrated. Every ten minutes we had to stop to correct the planks on the trailer to stop them from being shaken off on the corrugated road. On top of that we were taking extra caution on the 4WD roads which Dad found unusually hard to navigate with an ill-fitting tailer.

By half way we had already eaten most of the snacks. We were all bored and had sore butts, but the idea of ‘arriving’ kept us in the car.

Eventually we came across a short stretch of straight track that enabled us to drive a lot faster. The feeling of driving fast and not knocking your head against the window every five seconds felt great. A chance to rest the muscles you had been using for suspension.

When I looked out the window, to my right was a spectacular view of the massive bay, it was filled with crystal clear and shimmering blue water. The amazing sight fascinated me, it was the best thing on the trip so far. After gazing at the water in the distance I took a quick glimpse ahead, that’s when I saw something almost just as amazing, there were massive sand dunes.

When you’re a kid, a sand dune isn’t just a sand dune. The bigger the sand dune the better, because sand dunes mean fun.

Dad and his guts of steel didn’t just drive us to the dunes, he drove us up them. Up and over, over and over again, I tensed each time as we got to the top, in fear we would fall down the other side. Finally, we found a good sized dune, it was the smallest one we would find that we would be able to go sand boarding on.

A few seconds later we were on top of the dune, we all rushed out of the car and started trying to snatch the sand boards out of each other’s hands. I had been excited the whole time since we had seen the dunes on the horizon, but my confidence was lost quickly when I looked over the edge of the dune. The feeling of excitement twisted into nervousness and I felt like I wanted to grab onto the ground and plant my head. It was the biggest, steepest dune that I had ever been on.

After the rest of the family had a few rounds of going down, I finally grew the confidence to give it a try. My legs were shaky and I had butterflies tickling my stomach, but somehow the peer pressure overpowered me and I had to go. The first time I went, I went down while sitting, dragging my hands in the sand trying to slow myself. I was filled with relief that I survived the descent without a single wobble or fall. The successful run made me start considering going down again, maybe standing.

It wasn’t until everyone had their last shot when I made my decision to go down while standing. By that time everyone else was getting tired and Dad was wanting to get back in the car so we could arrive with enough time to go fishing. So I made my decision…

I put one foot in the straps and then the other, I shuffled over to the edge of the dune and tightened my hat. I took in a deep breath and… Dad pushed me!

I was shocked, it was the last thing I was expecting but it should have been the first. A few wobbles and a stomach turned upside down, out of pure panic I pulled myself back to my feet and stayed in control of the sand board. When I looked up I saw that I was whizzing down the dune, it seemed as if I was at full speed, beating human records. My face had changed completely from worried and bored to a grin and beam. I thought I was fast and that’s all I needed to know, because I was going to enjoy that moment and that’s what I did… until.

In the one chance I had to try actual sand boarding, I nearly fell off after being the test subject for Dads new idea of a push off, then I stayed in control and actually enjoyed it for a split second before I realised that the fun had to end. I looked up and saw the ground approaching quickly, all at once my awesome safety and protection manoeuvres sprang into action. All at the same time I covered my head with my arms, grabbed onto sand to slow the sand board, leaned all different directions to turn and did anything that I thought might stop myself from crashing into the bottom. But all the instant movements caused me to fling off the sand board and start rolling down the sand.

Eventually I stopped, with a mouth full of sand and one leg still stuck in the sand board. I looked up and saw my family at the top. When I turned my head I realised that I didn’t even make it to the bottom of the dune, I missed it by about a metre. All the cautious manoeuvres made me end up hurting myself more than I would’ve if it actually did hit the bottom. I got back to my feet and instantly felt pain in my ankle and neck, but a second later the pain was drowned in disappointment when I realised that I had to climb back up the dune.

Two hours later we arrived at the top of the island. The long and bumpy trip had ended and we all catapulted out of the car. As we looked around we saw the giant lighthouse that towered above our heads. We saw the two posts that originally held Dirk Hartog’s and Willem De Vlamingh’s plates. We saw massive cliffs that were scary to look down and in the distance, we saw whales jumping and having a ball. This was what we came for.  

Within seconds of escaping the car, cameras were drawn and mouths were locked open. The scene was spectacular and filled with history, the views were amazing and held a mystery.

After a good look around and a flash of paparazzi, we needed to get back in the car and head to the camp site. Though the car was the last thing we wanted to enter it was getting late and we had no choice.

Soon enough we were at the small shack we intended to camp in. It was in the middle of nowhere and didn’t seem like it was regularly visited. It had three walls of corrugated iron and one was open, in the far end it had a small camping bench and some shelves with old tin cans. At first sight it was horrible, almost horrible enough to gag, but of course we were camping so there wasn’t much more to expect.

By the time we had set up camp it was too late to do anything, the long drive took up so much of our day that it started getting dark. We had to save exploring for the next day.

Long drives can be horrible, boring and annoying. Especially if they take longer than expected. But sometimes you need to get used to it, especially if you have a whole year of travelling ahead of you.