For decades, I've been making the annual sojourn to Fraser Island with the guys. Occasionally, get up there twice a year, but normally, 6 to 10 of us head up just the once. It is one of the most beautiful places on earth. 

The usual format, these days, is that we sort out vehicles etc, we have a treasurer and a quartermaster (although many is the year we have gone up with 25 different cheeses, 16 different olives etc etc, and forgotten the toilet paper). Most of us go to a mate’s fabulous house on a hill behind Cooroy for the Friday evening, a couple of hours north of Brizzy. A cigar overlooking the lake, dinner, drinks, and then we all crash and head up the next day. Another couple of hours to the tiny town of Rainbow Bay and on to Inskip Point, nothing more than a spit of sand, where we catch the car ferry to the bottom of the Island. The trip is only about 15 minutes and some years see queues of many, even hundreds, of cars on one side or both. The things you see waiting or while on the ferry can be spectacular and a foreteller of what is to come. Dolphins, baitballs, even an occasional dugong, a shark or more. 

Crossing depends on the tides. Well, not so much the crossing but the trip up the beach. Some years, it needs to be painfully and distressingly early. Others, more civilised. This year, the latter. We then meet any other troops travelling up who could not make the Friday, somewhere along the beach. Then, a couple of hours along the sand beach, one of the longest drivable beaches in the world – Fraser is the largest sand island on the planet, though there are rocky outcrops and headlands. 

We normally stop behind Indian Head, as one of the team has contacts for fresh oysters, very cheaply. We knock off a dozen or two each, plus a kilo or two of fresh prawns, and of course, several bottles of chilled fizz. 

In the old days, it was non-stop fishing. Everything else secondary. These days, and I am not completely happy about this, it is much more about relaxing, some fishing and food and wine. And a good book, or several and some cigars (these latter items are acceptable). I type this, not with a cigar but having just finished a cracker from one of my fave authors, Carl Hiaasen, ‘Squeeze Me’. Not one I would recommend for those who have strong political views, or at least for one side of them. No spoilers and no broken rules. And enjoying a glass of Petaluma Chardonnay 2015 while tapping. 

Last night was the annual ‘Duck and Stormy’ evening. Started a few decades ago when a famous maker of Pinot was with us. We said, well you make Pinot so you must be able to cook duck. Do so. He did a great job but as he served it, a monumental thunderstorm, one for the ages, hit the Island. We watched a lightning show which would have topped the New Year fireworks for Sydney Harbour. So it was named the ‘Duck and Stormy’ evening and has been a tradition ever since. Each year seemingly better than the next. And last night, we kicked off with some blind champers, the 2008 Sir Winston and the 2008 Dom (if I may be excused a small bit of bigheaddery, I very rarely pick any wine but I did pick both of these, so was very pleased with myself – there was a small but very obnoxious dance). Then a couple of brilliant local Pinots, from Pressing Matters in Tassie and Yabby Lake in Victoria. Followed by a superb 2002 Roumier ‘Bussiere’. So you see what I mean. 

Anyway, I take every chance to enjoy a cigar and a drink for Kenfessions – does one ever stop working? These are normally mid-morning or arvo (sometimes post/pre-dinner) and also very often on fishing trips, especially if Ted and I go ourselves. A good hard early fish and then beach chairs out, beach beers and a cigar with the most magnificent view. Some of my very best cigar moments… 

The history of this place – Waddy Lodge – is long and complex, but basically my old man and his mates would come up to Fraser regularly in the 60s and 70s. They came across an old shack where the leasehold was up, just behind Waddy Point for those who know the Island. A few of them got together, grabbed the leasehold. They set up an arrangement with a few shareholders – the old man did the legals, his brother the “architecture etc”, a couple of others, other things. And they went every year. Now about 35 shareholders and we get our week or more. As well as the ‘House’, there are two units and a caretaker’s hut. So anyone looking for a week in paradise, extremely reasonable, drop me a note. Most people who come can’t wait to get back. 

But we, for our annual trip, are a bit strict. They need to fit in. Personal clashes are of no interest to me, so we watch that. And quite a few have been moved on over the years. We have about a dozen keen to come, but obviously work commitments, family, who knows what gets in the way. So these days, we usually head up with 6-8 (max is ten) with 3-4 vehicles. It is only 4WDs on the Island. 

But we are here to look at cigars and matches and not mumble on about other things. 

Anyway, first evening, at Chez Des, overlooking the lake, reading the cracking ‘Lords of the Fly’, a lovely bottle of Oakridge Blanc des Blancs, the 2011 I believe, and a Romeo & Julieta ‘Romeo 2’ (a touch of this is being done from a dodgy memory well after the event and wonky photos, so while I am 99% certain that I have these right, don’t shoot me if I am stuffing them up). Thoroughly lovely all round. Yes, I know, I am supposed to be doing the geeky notes but I apologise here, can’t find them (I almost always scribble some notes for any cigar – who knows when we will need them for Kenfessions?). For the record, as we type, we have moved to a 2017 Grosset Polish Hill Riesling – fabulous stuff… Part 2 to follow soon.

KBG.