I’m a bit jaded because a ranger on Fraser Island (renamed K’gari by the Qld Labor government in 2023) has fined me $483 because a local island dingo clawed the lock off my portable fridge and made off with four frozen steaks.

Apparently, it is my fault, even though I breached none of the official guidelines regarding food security on the island. And certainly not the fault of the actual thief – that being the over-protected, over-confident, and entitled dingoes that roam around campsites with seemingly little fear of humans.

It is outright forbidden by law to ‘disturb’ a K’gari dingo. When around them, you’re supposed to carry on as you were, sort of ignoring them, letting them sneak around at will.

Only when aggressively confronted can you alter your behaviour.

The official advice when faced with a hostile dingo: do not run, do not wave your arms, face the animal, stand tall, yell “HELP”, then slowly retreat backwards. Keep retreating until the animal stands down, or you find protection, like a fence gate or vehicle.

Retreat?

What you can’t legally do is kick it in the arse – but maybe that’s what should be encouraged by park authorities and local Indigenous traditional owners.

From what I saw, instilling some fear of humans in the dingo mind is exactly what’s needed. It’s not the dingo that’s the apex creature – it’s adult human beings. Pretending otherwise is encouraging dingoes to become more aggressive and confused about their place in the natural order.

You won’t be surprised to hear that the advice to the common plebs visiting the island is not what local rangers seem to follow themselves.

When the ranger first visited our tent setup, a nearby dingo was eating what turned out to be an apple core. The ranger walked up and, with hand gestures, waved the animal away.

I had my own confrontation with two of them. One of the boys caught a large queenfish off Waddy Point beach. It was around dusk, and to keep the fish fresh, I walked it in hand 300m to the icebox in the ute. As I went, two dingoes circled me, clearly hoping I’d drop the fish or run.

One fronted me; the other hovered just outside my peripheral vision. There was a stick at my feet. I picked it up and charged forward. They both scampered off but soon returned to their little formation. I repeated the charge – this time they disappeared.

I do feel a bit torn criticising Fraser Island’s bank of rules and regulations. The boys grew frustrated with all the restrictions. We had to carry our own firewood onto the island, and despite an abundance of dead wood everywhere, burning any of it is an offence.

Fires aren’t allowed on beaches. In fact, only two campsites permit them, and only within fixed steel containment rings. The rings can’t be moved.

Even in the cold and wet rainforest campsites in the centre of the island, fires are banned – despite zero risk of bushfires in winter.

I saw shivering campers with blankets over their shoulders, miserably balancing plastic cups of wine on their knees.

I suspect that by keeping the rainforest sites cold and damp and banning fires, the ranger workload in winter drops nicely.

Scaling and gutting fish has its own set of strict rules. Some areas completely forbid the leaving of fish offal, and the general disposal method requires waste to be buried at least 50cm below the sand. This apparently forces dingoes to hunt for food rather than laze around waiting for scraps.

Caught fish can’t be left in open buckets – the worry being a dingo will sneak up and grab it while you’re busy hauling in another. Fish can’t be cleaned near campsites either.

So, in practice, each captured fish has to be gutted, its intestines buried, and the cleaned fish locked away. There are hefty charges for feeding a dingo – even tossing one a freshly caught fish can cost you an on-the-spot fine of $2,580. The maximum court penalty is now $26,614 – more than the cost of some small cars.

Even with all this red tape, I was still defending the dense set of restrictions. I told the boys that when I was their age it was rare to find such a visual paradise, especially as it’s a spiritual home of 4WD enthusiasts, many of them P-platers who end the day with a gutful of grog. Authorities are clearly onto this – on our last day, heading back to the Inskip barge, an island-based cop breath-tested me at midday.

I didn’t see any rubbish on the island – not even a cigarette butt. The eastern beach is a magical 100km-long six-lane sand superhighway, bordered by breaking ocean on one side and low vegetation on the other. Speeds of up to 80km are permitted.

The sand highway is heavily used, yet a few times we found ourselves alone – and when you do, you get that wilderness feeling – just endless sand, sky, and cloud.

K’gari is the largest sand island in the world. There are no tarmac roads – you drive winding sand trails like a bush roller coaster. Many are one-way to avoid collisions.

Given the clean, unspoilt wonder of the place, I told the boys this was a remarkable environmental achievement, especially considering the number of visitors. When I was their age, the sand highway would likely have been lined with empty 4X cans.

Even so, the rules on dingoes don’t seem to work. People are being bitten more often. A nine-year-old was once mauled to death.

Visitors are told to keep kids in arm’s reach, travel in groups, and carry dingo deterrent sticks where possible.

Lake McKenzie is a beautiful freshwater lake with a beach to relax on, but sitting with food is now banned. In fact, food can’t be carried there at all.

Unless humans are free to push back against aggressive dingo behaviour – and remind them who the top predator is – I reckon the problem will only get worse. Many dingoes become so aggressive they have to be euthanised.

Of course, the official line is that it’s all our fault – for feeding the wildlife or not securing food. Maybe there’s truth in that.

But let’s be honest – the animal kingdom runs on fear.

What K’gari dingoes might need is what misbehaving kids often get – a smack on the bum. Just to remind them who’s boss.

And if that’s allowed, maybe we can keep the World Heritage listing – without all the restrictions and the need to fine people $483.

Nick Hossack is a public policy consultant. He is former policy director at the Australian Bankers’ Association and former adviser to Prime Minister John Howard.