Fraser Island whale watching: More than sand and dingoes

If whale watching were a state of origin game, the Maroons are headed for the win. A few years ago I spent an entire season chasing these gargantuan mammals up and down the New South Wales coast. I have watched them from lighthouses, sea planes, boats, kayaks and cliff faces. I have travelled from Eden – where they helpfully sound a siren for whale sightings, the same siren that used to send out the whaling boats – to Byron Bay. But I have never seen such relentless frolicking as in the waters around Hervey Bay, just a couple of hours north of Brisbane. We are following a small pod of three teenage humpbacks and they are leaping out of the water like it's boiling hot. The breaches, fin slaps and all-round playing is coming as thick and fast as the "oohhs" and "aahhs" of the appreciative crowd.

The theory goes that the young whales like to play more when the seas are rough and our boat is pitching and rolling hard enough to churn milk, and stomachs, but the sight of the whales takes my mind off everything – except trying to stay on my feet. After watching the whales cavorting along the starboard side, I claw my way over to port to get away from the crowd. A whale surfaces just a couple of metres from where I am standing, its huge bulk heading straight for the boat. It looks close enough to collide with us but these whales are young, not stupid, and it expels a huge breath and dives right under our vessel. Even a nearby whale-hardened crew member is impressed. "Wow, that one was so close I should have sold it a ticket," she says.

My base for this very successful whale odyssey is the Kingfisher Bay Resort, on Fraser Island, a World Heritage site as the world's largest sand island. It's 123 kilometres long and 22 kilometres wide at its girth. Hectares of lush forest vegetation coat the island like a net, or skin, holding the sand in place and creating a wonderland for four-wheel-drive enthusiasts. Dingoes roam the island and pods of dolphins surf the waves.

The day after my whale watching I am bumping around again, but this time it's on dry land. I am on a 4WD tour of the island with guide and resident Fraser Island photographer Peter Meyer. The deep grooves of the sandy island tracks are turning my morning latte into a cappuccino but once again it is a case of being both shaken and stirred, as we emerge on to the stunning break at 75 Mile Beach.

As if to greet us, an eagle ray leaps out of the water and we peel our eyes for the whales while Meyer points out the odd dark lumps of "coffee rock" – a compressed mixture of sand and rotting vegetation – that line the start of the forest like a stubbly welcome mat.

We take a short break at Eli Creek, which acts as a natural "lazy river" attraction where families wade up under a small bridge clutching inflatable rings and then float slowly back to the creek entrance. It's a bit chilly so I wander the nearby dunes and spy some fresh dingo tracks in the sand, though that is all I see of the elusive wild dogs for the day.

As we 4WD our way further north, we find the wreck of the Maheno, a rusted-out hull that is one of the must-snap shots on this stretch of sand.