For those who like the REAL Stories, read on...

Ｆｒｏｍ Ｔａｐ－ａｎｄ－Ｇｏ ｔｏ “Ｃａｌｌ Ｄｏｕｇ”

 

I wrote about this on 18 March...

 

At the time, it felt like I was just noticing a few signs… the Translink logo on the side of the ferry, that little black machine at the front that told us we would soon to be ‘tap and go-ing’.

 

𝙏𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘.

Because from Monday 30 March, Coochiemudlo Island officially steps into the Translink network. You’ll be able to tap on with a Go Card or your bank card (with pay wave option), just like you would on a bus or train.

 

𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙞𝙨… 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩.

Because this same stretch of water once ran on something closer to, “Is Doug around?”

From 30 March, the passenger ferry becomes part of the South East Queensland public transport system. You can tap on and off with a Go Card or your debit or credit card, fares line up with the rest of the network, and just like that, this little crossing becomes an official public transport route.

 

𝙎𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧. 𝙎𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚. 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢.

There’s something quietly funny about tapping your card like you’re boarding a city bus, when five minutes ago you were ankle-deep in the bay, but here we are, finally joining the mainland transport system.

 

𝙊𝙛 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚.

While I have mixed feelings about it, I do understand that it’s a necessary shift, and some would say ‘progressive’, especially as WHS gets tightened up and people may start to feel some of the bureaucracy sliding down the mooring line to the passengers, including new rules around fuel & gas and muzzling dogs…(while I’ve not see this as an official announcement, I had my AI buddy check the Translink policies around this and it was clear there will be some changes we Coochiemudlians need to accommodate).

 

𝘼 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙...

As Amity Trader implement the Translink policies into their own systems, we will continue to see changes, like the ones mentioned above. Sometimes the changes can get our backs up, if and when this happens, please remember, Steve & the gang have strict compliance rules they have to follow, it's NOT them sitting around having a beer on a Sunday throwing ideas around on how they can piss us off.

 

𝗜 𝘀𝘂𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘂𝘀, 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽𝘀 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴…

Since 2016, Steve Wallace and Amity Trader have been running the ferry and barge services to Coochie, bringing a level of structure most of us now take for granted. Regular timetables, defined fares, a service that runs like a business, because it has to.

 

At the same time, there’s always been that split personality to island transport. The passenger ferry edging closer to public transport, while the barge remains in the world of private operation, carrying the heavy stuff, the awkward stuff, and quietly underpinning how the island actually functions.

 

Then COVID came along and gave everyone a reminder that even “set” services aren’t as fixed as we think. The last ferry shifted earlier, from around 11:30pm to 10:30pm. Not a huge change on paper, but on an island it changes how you plan your day, your night, and those spontaneous “I’ll just pop over” moments.

 

𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖 𝙗𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡.

In 1959, Dick Whitehall took over the ferry from Doug Morton. A World War II veteran who had seen the Pacific, he ran boats with names like Kooraloo, depending on which version of the spelling you grew up hearing.

 

This was ferry travel where people knew the skipper, kids hovered up the front helping to 'drive', and passengers weren’t shy about helping tie off when they arrived.

 

By around 1970, there was something resembling a timetable. One morning run, one afternoon return. Which sounds fairly reasonable until you realise that just a couple of years earlier, weekday ferries weren’t even guaranteed.

 

If the ferry didn’t run, you still had to get where you were going.

Families adapted. Kids got to school in small open dinghies powered by Seagull outboards. People worked around tides, weather, and whether the motor decided to cooperate that day. No apps, no updates, no notifications. You either made it across or you didn’t.

 

𝘽𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙜.

From around 1946, Doug Morton delivered the mail and ran what could loosely be called a ferry service. If you needed a lift, you rang him. He came over. That was the system. No printed timetable, no set fares, just a bloke, a boat, and a community that made it work.

 

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩, 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡.

Long before engines and jetty schedules, the water between Victoria Point and Coochie was already a well-used pathway. The Quandamooka people had been navigating these waters for thousands of years, moving between places that were never really separate in the way we tend to think of them now.

 

So when you look at what’s happening on Monday, it’s easy to focus on the practical bits. Tap-and-go. Integrated fares. Being part of the broader South East Queensland transport network.

 

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙯𝙤𝙤𝙢 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮.

It’s another step in a long shift from relationships and favours to systems and structure. We’re still small enough to know the skipper and deckies, but now we’re tapping a card on a machine that doesn’t know our name unless we tell it by registering our tap n go card.

 

𝙎𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝘿𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮.

There’s a moment coming, probably sometime next week, where someone will tap their card, walk onto the ferry, sit down, and not think twice about it.

 

𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙞𝙨 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩.

But not that long ago, getting to Coochie involved a phone call, a bit of luck, the weather, and whether Doug felt like heading over.

If you find yourself hovering over that tap machine on Monday, just pause for a second.

 

𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙮.

You’re stepping into the latest version of a story that’s been crossing this stretch of water for a very long time.

 

In the meantime, take a deep breath and remember, we are living on one of Queenslands most amazing little pieces of land and have much to be grateful for.

 

Editors Note: While my AI buddy did the heavy lifting in research for this article, the idea to create a reverse timeline and the finessing of the actual words are all mine. Luckily my AI assistant really doesn't care who gets the cudos, it thinks everything it writes is great! (Although it's been known to apologise to me more than once for getting it wrong!)