Goodbye Melbourne, Hello Whitsunday Islands

What we saw of Melbourne in our 6 days was enticing. It’s a cosmopolitan city with beautiful public spaces, friendly people, lots of culture, and many attractions within a geographically manageable area. Alas, because so much of our time was spent watching tennis, we only scratched the surface and will have to leave further exploration for another trip. On Monday (1/31), it was time to move on: most of the group were returning to Los Angeles, while Rick and I, and Lynda and Neale, we going on to the private island resort of Hayman Island, in the Whitsunday Islands (off the Queensland coast, and part of the Great Barrier Reef).

Our flight from Melbourne to the Great Barrier Reef Airport on Hamilton Island was on Qantas’ lower cost affiliate Jetstar. Travelers who fly Southwest in the U.S. will find Jetstar very familiar: no assigned seats, no free snacks (though lots you can buy). But once we got off the Jetstar flight at Hamilton, our Hayman experience began, and there was nothing “do-it-yourself” (or low cost, for that matter) about it whatsoever.

Before we even collected our bags, we stopped at the Hayman desk at the airport and handed over our luggage claim tickets; that was the last time we needed to worry about our luggage until we left. We were ushered onto a luxury yacht named the Sun Goddess and handed a flute of champagne, and settled into the plush salon with stunning views of the surrounding waters and islands. As we whisked along the Whitsunday Passage to our destination, watching a string of islands reminiscent of the British Virgins slip past, a Hayman representative checked us in, gave us our keys, and informed us of the various options available to us for dining and activities. On arrival, we stepped aboard a golf cart train which brought us to rooms, with luggage to follow.

The private island of Hayman is stunning. On casual inspection, the Whitsunday Islands do have the look of the BVI, rising hilly and green over blue seas and sandy beaches. On closer look, they might resemble more northerly isles, with rocky outcroppings and a multitude of pine trees (in this case, tropical ones like casuarinas and Norfolk pines). On top of that, Hayman has layered lush tropical vegetation: palms of many sorts, banana trees, heliconia and other tropical flowers, through which meander paths. The final layer is the squawk, screech, squeal, chirp, howl and shriek of a multitude of tropical birds (most notably, cockatoos), frogs and insects. It’s very much the look and feel of a tropical island.

Our room was in the Pool Wing, on the first floor. We didn’t appreciate what that meant right away. The Pool Wing is accessed from the road, from which a path leads to a vast, open air public area which includes oversized chairs and tables for lounging, more rioting plants, and a waterfall; in the middle, a huge partially glassed archway opens out onto the iconic Hayman pool -- a complex of pools, both saltwater and freshwater, crossed by bridges and walkways, and a casual restaurant/bar. The room is a cool, soothing marble-clad space, with white marble floors and white walls and bedding. Wood furnishings (teak?), Oriental in their simplicity, accent the space. At the front of the room, two pairs of plantation shutters cover the sliding glass doors, providing protection against the searing midday light. Opening the shutters and doors, we step onto a marble patio with a low, stucco wall. A gate in the wall opens to a ladder, which goes right into the pool. Yummy.

We wasted no time making dinner arrangements. Different restaurants are open different nights, with some of them having dress requirements more stringent than “resort casual,” so we had to plan accordingly. Here are some thoughts about dining at Hayman:

Azure – We shared dinner at Azure, the seafood restaurant, with Lynda and Neale. We had cocktails in the Beach Pavilion first, and were stared down by a dozen gathering cockatoos, who were not at all intimidated by us and expectantly waited for us to offer up the cashew nuts that we’d gotten with our cocktails (Note: I tried the local Bundaberg rum and didn’t like it very much; other than this and a mojito in Sydney, I confined by alcoholic ventures strictly to Australian wines.) At Azure, we chose an outdoor table on the deck edging the beach and wondered that the waitstaff didn’t fall off the un-railed deck on a regular basis. Miraculously (at least for me), despite the outdoor setting and the peak of summer, I didn’t see or feed a single mosquito this evening or throughout our stay.

The food at Azure was fabulous. We confined our choices to seafood: locally caught barramundi (which was incredibly fresh and moist) and Moreton Bay bugs. The bugs are a shellfish native to the northern coast of Australia, reminiscent of small lobsters. This evening, they were served in an Asian-inspired, ginger-flavored broth that was almost as good as the bugs alone (and only propriety and restraint kept me from spooning up every last drop). Azure was also the site of the breakfast buffet, with typical Australian bounty. The seagulls, slightly more aggressive than the cockatoos, were quite interested in sharing my breakfast one morning and planted themselves firmly in my scrambled eggs, not shooing despite my flailing at them; I abandoned my plate and started over, moving under the roof as well.

Beach Barbecue at the Beach Pavilion – The Beach Pavilion is a huge thatched-roof palapa sitting on the beach. The site of a large bar, it was also the venue for a beach barbecue buffet. Just about everything one might expect at a barbecue – a very upscale barbecue – was here, such as beef filet and chicken breast; as well, you could have grilled barramundi, grilled bugs, and grilled kangaroo. A luscious array of salads and side dishes was also presented, including a favorite salad of tomatoes (both fresh and sun-dried) and mozzarella. Finally, an irresistible selection of desserts. The food lived up to the setting.

Oriental -- Our last night, we ate at Oriental, which combined the cuisines of Asia with local ingredients, making for an interesting and satisfying fusion. Highlights included yellowtail tuna sashimi and whole crispy snapper, which had been caught just that day.

Once our dinner reservations were made, we also took time to visit the main reception area to book our activities. We were mostly interested in snorkeling and diving, though many other activities like helicopter and seaplane tours, deserted beach trips, dinghy rentals, and sunset beach picnics can be arranged. Use of catamarans, sea kayaks and windsurfers is free, but are limited to high tide, which never coincided with our schedule. The water sports kiosk is located on the main beach, but the area’s 12 foot tidal range meant that most of the water disappeared from that small bay at low tide. Incidentally, while the main beach on Hayman Island is pretty to look at, the sand is relatively dark and coarse and got so hot in the afternoon that I could hardly walk on it barefoot; I’ll take a Caribbean beach instead any day.

With its boutiques, spa, fine dining, and beautiful grounds, Hayman is perfect for the get-away-from-it-all sort of retreat where you never leave the island. But for us, Hayman was all about access to the Great Barrier Reef.

Whether it’s marketing hype or actual geography, our snorkel guides consistently distinguished between the “Inner Reef” and the “Outer Reef”. The Inner Reef included the Whitsunday Islands themselves, including Hayman and surrounds, while the Outer Reef was quite a distance from any land, out in the wild blue yonder of open sea. Our first snorkel outing was to the Inner Reef, by short boat ride with 4 other snorkelers, to a bay of a small uninhabited island just off Hayman. We were dropped from one boat to another permanently moored there, with a glass bottom through which we were given an introduction to reef life. After that, we donned our Stinger Suits and jumped right into the warm, calm water (about 18 meters deep at this point) to feast our eyes on what, to that point in my life, was the best snorkeling I have ever seen in my life (which has included Belize, the Turks and Caicos, the Out Islands of the Bahamas, the Yucatan, the Grenadines, and the British Virgin Islands). The array of soft corals was absolutely astounding, appearing in every shape, color and size – words escape me. There was no evidence of bleaching. The fish were abundant as well, including a clown fish (think Nemo) flitting about the anemones, lots of parrotfish and sergeant-majors, but with the exception of a pair of 5 foot maori wrasses, not the really big fish the Outer Reef promises.

A few words about Stinger Suits: as most people know, Australia is known to have some of the most lethally poisonous wildlife on the planet. Indeed, of the 10 most poisonous snakes on earth, all 10 are indigenous (exclusively) to Australia. The single most poisonous creature on earth is the box jellyfish, also an Australian, but thankfully that sucker doesn’t hang out at the Reef. But even though box jellyfish don’t populate the Great Barrier Reef, in the southern summer, other vexing beasties do. Accordingly, Hayman requires its guests to don full-length (foot to neck) lycra suits for protection against stings. While maybe not the figure-flattering look us gals are looking for, the suits demonstrate the seriousness of the risk and provide some comfort that your snorkel trip won’t end in excruciating pain. And, to ease any pain caused by wearing such a get-up, the snorkel trip ends with a flute (or two or three) of champagne.

The next day, Rick and I signed up for a full-day dive and snorkel trip which included the Outer Reef as well as the Inner Reef. The sea conditions had changed dramatically since the day before, and now there was a significant chop to worry about – so much so that the crew of the Reef Goddess were not sure whether we would go to the Outer Reef at all. Ultimately, they decided to go, but I was grateful I had popped a Dramamine II that morning. As big a boat as the Reef Goddess is, she still rolled and wallowed in the chop, and many of the guests became seasick during the 1 hour trip to the Outer Reef. (One of the nice things about taking these excursions out of Hayman is that they are done with fairly small groups; our trip to the Outer Reef had fewer than 20 guests, with a high guest to crew ratio; some other operations take well over 100 guests.)

Once we arrived at the reef, what struck me first was that we appeared to be well and truly in the middle of nowhere. I know that with GPS and other navigational aids, our crew knew exactly where we were. But with the islands a fuzzy smudge on the horizon, and only a few mooring balls to give us visual markers of location, it was a little chilling. (And we’ve all heard of the movie Open Water – though the Hayman crew were obviously counting and checking us in each time we dropped in the water.)

The sea condition made me think very hard about snorkeling. As much snorkeling as I’ve done, I’ve declined a far greater number of opportunities to snorkel. I am admittedly timid: I don’t like chop, I don’t like going in off a boat (I like to stroll in from the beach), I don’t like water under 10 feet or over 100, etc. I had to make the decision to snorkel without Rick pushing me along, too, since the divers had already gone off. In the end, I sucked it up and did it, chanting the mantra “You’ve come this far, how can you not snorkel on the Great Barrier Reef.”

With my resolve hardened, I was the first to board the dinghy – no small feat since it was rolling violently and banging up against the mother ship. I guess my dinghy boarding experience from home and chartering served me well. As well, I was among the first to slip into the water once we reached the reef. We were instructed to follow guide Serina closely, and she trailed an orange life buoy so we could spot her easily.

Despite the difficulty of the conditions, I was glad I’d mustered up the nerve to go snorkeling. Although I certainly didn’t always feel that way while I was in the water, especially when I occasionally came up to get my bearings only to find a 3 or 4 foot wave towering over my head. The snorkeling was different than closer to Hayman: bigger fish (yes, I saw a shark) and many more large and hard corals. The reef is vibrantly healthy. My favorites were the giant clams, which blend fairly well into the surrounding rock or coral, but are visible because of their huge neon-colored lips: green, blue, purple. By the time we were finished snorkeling, I was exhausted, and had a difficult time hauling myself out of the water and into the dinghy. And when we returned to the mother ship, the crew decided it was too dangerous for us to board from the dinghy right to the boat, so we dropped out of the dinghy into the water, and then climbed aboard by ladder.

After a nice lunch underway of prawns (or were they shrimp?), fish, grilled chicken, and salads, we dropped anchor at Hook Island for more snorkeling and diving. Because Rick was flying the next day and had trouble clearing his ear, he decided to snorkel instead of SCUBA. I had a buddy – yea! Here, the water was protected and we enjoyed more of that amazing Inner Reef snorkeling with the astounding array of multi-colored soft corals. It looked like the undersea garden of a most devoted and learned hand. I could stay here for hours, but the water was cooler and our ship called. We capped off our journey with cookies, exotic tropical fruit, and more champagne.

Our pampered existence at Hayman ended on Thursday. We boarded the Sun Goddess again for our champagne-flavored trip back to Hamilton Island. Our bags had already been discretely collected from our room and stowed. The seas had increased, and even this large luxury boat rocked and rolled in the swell until turning into the Whitsunday Passage and running ahead of the seas. As we neared the airport landing, I spied the Moorings base at Hamilton Island, recognizing the familiar look of their boats and their flag, and wondering whether we’d return here to sail – our more typical modus operandi. Here, we collected our bags and checked in for our Jetstar flight to Sydney.

Our few days at Hayman were truly lovely, and offered us unforgettable experiences of the Great Barrier Reef. It was delicious to be pampered and waited on at every turn. At Hayman, the staff must be trained to never allow a guest to have a furrowed brow or a moment’s unease. If you plop down on a lounge chair at the pool, a pitcher of ice water and glasses follow momentarily; if you are shaking the salt too hard because the humidity has hardened it, a new shaker will appear at your table in seconds; if seagulls take over your breakfast, it is decidedly not your problem. But I don’t think I could handle this for much longer than we stayed there, for our island style is much more casual: my hardest decision is typically whether or not I wear shoes to dinner, or do I put mango rum or just straight Mt. Gay in my cocktail. For me, the ultimate luxury is being close to the water and sand and sun, without the interference of making reservations and grooming and dress. There is a place in life for all types of experiences, but when we return to Australia, I’ll probably revert to my comfort zone of rustic casual.

(More to come; Syndey next.)