A prolonged stop in Rum City February 3 to 5

Bundaberg (affectionately known by locals as Bundy) is situated on the coast, half way between Airlie Beach (the famous jumping-off point for the Whitsunday Islands) and Brisbane. Dane and I stopped here on our way north to the town of 1770. Bundy is famous for a few things, first and foremost in my eyes, their 2 km long turtle nesting beach, Mon Repo. We had to wait until nightfall, because both the grown mothers lay their eggs and the hatchlings later emerge from the sand under the safe cover of night.
We embarked on a tour of the Bundaberg Rum factory (one of the other main things for which Bundy is famous.) The tour was fascinating and took us through the huge holding tanks where they store the raw, incredible smelling molasses, to the fermentation process where the cleaned molasses is mixed with water and yeast to produce 76 % white rum. That product then goes through various stages, including two-year storage in 65,000 litre oak vats until we have the famous, 36% Bundaberg amber rum. Each vat is worth about $6 million retail and they have 300 on the property. It’s a huge operation and Aussies love their rum. The government takes about $4 million in taxes from each vat explained our tour guide and then taxes the consumer again on each bottle purchased.
Best of all, we got two free tastings at the end and since Dane isn’t one for rum, I got four drinks! I used them all on the exclusive coffee-chocolate-vanilla-caramel rum liqueur (which has a name better than my wordy description) that they produce only twice a year because of the products complexity, so I wasn’t nearly as tipsy as I might have been if I’d tried straight-up rum.
The highlight of our prolonged stay in Bundy was by far the Mon Repo turtle experience. We waited for about two hours and around 9pm Ranger Shane gathered our group together and took us down the beach, in complete darkness, for an “event.” Rangers and volunteers patrol the beach around the clock and had found one of the 1600 nests that were laid this year ready to hatch. We gathered around it in circle and watched as tiny baby turtles burst to the surface. They were gathered into a small turtle corral until we could all help them get down to the ocean. They emerged frantic, scrambling over top of each other and moving as fast as possible on their strong, little flippers. They come out at night because predators will easily scoop them up in the day light. After breaking out of the egg, the turtle will eat the remaining yolk and start the two-day dig to the surface (the mother buries them about 60cm deep to keep them safe). Once they reach the surface, they head for moonlight on the horizon which guides them to the ocean where they will ride the Pacific current all around the world, with some eventually returning to this very spot in 30 years to repeat the life-cycle.
Ranger Shane gave us explicit instructions not to use our torches our cameras. The turtles are easily confused by light and have been taking off down the beach because of the lights of a nearby development are tricking them. That’s why they need our help and after Shane passes around two for us to hold and touch we line up and form a column for the turtles to scuttle down on the first leg of their epic journey. Torch-carriers stand in the middle, lighting up the way to the water. It’s absolutely incredible to watch these tiny creatures dash for the safety of the water. Even a footprint in the sand becomes an obstacle for the little guys but they all eventually make it. Then comes the hardest bit. They have to make it past the waves and will often get swept back to shore three times before they can swim out far enough. After that, they have to contend with the other creatures in the ocean that will see them as a tasty appetizer. Not many of them make it to maturity; that’s why the females lay so many eggs (300-400 in a season) and why the rangers work here is so important. 95% of the turtles on Mon Reps are loggerheads and are endangered. The other species that visit this beach are classified as vulnerable.
After we’ve helped the hatchlings, we go back to the nest (fletch) and watch as Shane counts all of the shells to determine the success rate. 86 turtles made the journey down to the beach and 37 were under-developed and never hatched; a high number according to Shane. One egg was eaten by a crab and Shane pulled a few weak ones out who didn’t manage to climb out on their own. He was up to his armpit in the fletch and it was astounding to think of how long it must take the mother to dig it with her back flippers and deposit her eggs.
One of the reasons the hatchlings needed our help that night is that the moon was covered by clouds. As we were preparing to leave the clouds parted and a gorgeous, nearly-full silvery moon appeared over the ocean. It lit up the white foam of the waves and the beach and made me want to sit out there all night. I wondered if the turtles could see it in the ocean and if it was guiding them out to safety.
We’ve had to find various ways to fill the days, stuck in the rain, waiting for our trip to Lady Musgrave Island. We checked out the Bert Hinkler Aviation museum and it turned out to be an informative and interactive experience. Hinkler revolutionized many aspects of early aviation and set numerous world records, one of his most famous when he set the long distance, non-stop flight record by flying from Sydney to his mother’s home here in Bundaberg in under 9 hours in the 1920s. Hinkler set around-the-world flight records, was the first to cross the Atlantic, served as a gunner in WWI (living through that is a feat in itself) and invented numerous designs and the first amphibious aircraft. He unfortunately perished on another record attempt in the Italian Alps at the age of 40 and his life was nothing short of amazing.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t mind the rain but I do realize there’s nothing I can do about it and we have to make the best of the situation. We scheduled a cruise out to Lady Musgrave Island for Saturday to snorkel the Great Barrier Reef and explore the gorgeous, tiny, white-sand island. We discovered Friday morning all the roads leading to the small, isolated community of 1770, where the cruise leaves from, are closed. The water is 2m above the bridge and two Korean tourists nearly died yesterday when they tried to cross the bridge and their car became fully submerged. The two swam out and clung to a tree branch until they were rescued. Everyone in town is part laughing at their stupidity and part angry that their tax dollars have went to saving people that disobeyed the “road closed” signs. Regardless, our station wagon definitely won’t be crossing any flooded bridges so we’ve had to cancel our cruise and have decided to book a day trip to Lady Elliot Island. It’s a bit pricier but that’s because we get to fly there, something Dane and I are both looking forward to. The island is meant to be even more beautiful than Musgrave and is also at the southern end of the Great Barrier Reef and surrounded by live coral.