Making waves in yachting paradise

By NICK SQUIRES*

Soaked to the skin and with sea spray dripping off the end of his nose, Mark, our skipper, turned to us with a grin. "Just a passing shower," he yelled against the roar of the wind, as our boat slapped against another wall of grey-green water and rain hammered on to the deck.

Behind him crouched the rest of our sorry-looking group, ashen-faced and trying to keep their eyes locked on to the distant, mist-smudged horizon. "Ever wondered what it's like to sit on a bucking bronco and have buckets of water thrown in your face?" Mark asked cheerfully. "Well, now you know."

This was not exactly what I had expected of sailing in the Whitsunday Islands. The archipelago, which lies about midway along the coast of Queensland, has a reputation as one of the best places in the world to hire a yacht and potter quietly around bays, beaches and inlets.

Postcards and travel brochures show immaculate white boats gliding serenely across glassy stretches of water. Girls in bikinis lounge on deck, sipping cocktails and working on their tans. If I'd tried sipping a cocktail on our boat I'd have had my teeth knocked out.

To be fair, the storm we were battling through ("It is a bit lumpy," Mark eventually conceded) came at the end of two days of blue skies and sunshine.

We'd started the trip on Hamilton Island, which has its own airstrip and a pair of remarkably incongruous holiday apartment towers which should never have been allowed.

Although our 13m catamaran came complete with Mark and his English buddy Michael, many people opt for a "bare boat" charter, meaning they crew the boat themselves.

As someone who barely knows his rudder from his rigging, I was more than happy to have professional assistance as we sailed out of Hamilton's bustling marina and into Whitsunday Passage.

The sea was an extraordinary turquoise - a colour I've seen before only at Lake Tekapo, and the result of fine particles of sediment scattering the sunlight as they hit the surface of the water.

All around were slivers of white sand beaches, dramatic granite tors, and hazy island peaks stretching into the distance like pyramids.

We spent the first night at Nara Inlet, a long, twisting harbour hemmed in by mangroves and thick forest. A swim from the back of the boat at dusk was followed by drinks and dinner beneath a sky scattered with stars.

The next day we explored caves featuring Aboriginal paintings - just about the only legacy of once-thriving island tribes who were all but wiped out by colonisation and disease.

The next day a two-hour sail brought us to Peppers Palm Bay Resort on Long Island, where Mark and Michael hitched our boat to a coconut palm leaning out over the beach. First opened as a rather rough and ready resort in the 1930s, it was destroyed in 1970 by a cyclone.

Now rebuilt in eco-friendly style, its timber beams, stone fireplace and wicker chairs lend it a touch of Somerset Maugham.

The Whitsundays were named by Captain James Cook, who sailed this way in the Endeavour on June 3, 1770, and was suitably impressed by what he saw.

"The land of both the Main and islands is tolerable high and distinguished by hills and vallies [sic] which are diversified with woods and lawns that look'd green and pleasant," he noted in his journal.

Aside from the twin monstrosities on Hamilton Island, the scene has changed little today. Of the 100 islands in the Whitsundays chain, only seven have resorts. The most exclusive is five-star Hayman Island, which is where I head after my three wobbly days on the catamaran.

Overlooking its own beach and coral-fringed lagoon, Hayman is the ultimate in tropical hideaways. It has landscaped gardens, four restaurants, a huge swimming pool with a lattice-work of walkways and bridges, and a collection of art and antiques.

Winding paths pass Grecian urns, stone Chinese lions and fish ponds fed by gently trickling streams, artfully blurring the line between indoors and outdoors.

Bony-kneed, wide-eyed stone curlews wander between tables, sulphur-crested cockatoos screech in the palm trees, and sea eagles and ospreys soar overhead.

After breakfast on a wooden deck overlooking the beach, I wandered down to the resort's marina, jumped into a speedboat, and was promptly whisked across the bay to Langford Island, a low-lying area of achingly white sand. Exploring the island's fringing coral reef with a mask and snorkel, I came across a large turtle pushing its way lazily through the crystal-clear water.

Another favourite drop-off point for guests is Blue Pearl Bay, a small cove surrounded by limestone cliffs and thick jungle. Its broken-coral beach ensures excellent visibility for snorkellers, with schools of colourful parrot fish swimming just a few metres from the shore.

While the resort crouches discreetly beneath palms and pines on the south side of Hayman, the rest of the island is a national park. A network of paths leads to cliff-top look-outs, empty beaches and open bushland dotted with hoop pines, Port Jackson figs and 3m grass trees.

At midday, under the warmth of the tropical sun, the undergrowth positively twitches with life. Plump lizards dart across boulders, while pheasant coucals, a grouse-like bird, explode from the long grass in a whirr of beating wings.

Walking the island's 10km circular track I come across just two other hikers. Clearly the lure of beach and bar proves too much for most guests.

For those who can pull themselves away from the pool, there is no shortage of things to do. Fitting it all in would require military-style planning.

Aside from the facilities you would expect from a five-star resort (tennis courts, a gym, croquet, squash, badminton), there are all the usual attractions: scenic helicopter rides, seaplane flights, windsurfing, kayaking and, from July to November, whale watching.

Hayman is an hour's boat ride from the Great Barrier Reef, where butterfly fish, yellow-tailed fusiliers and coral trout dart between blue and purple corals.

Unless you are a mad-keen sailor, combining a few days on board a yacht with a restful stay at a resort such as Hayman is the perfect way to see the Whitsundays. Just don't expect it to be all plain sailing.


When to go:

The Whitsundays enjoy a warm, tropical climate all year round, though the wetter weather of December to February is best avoided. Summer daytime temperatures average 30C. In winter it is cooler - around 22C on average.

Getting there:

Flight Centre is offering three days' (two nights) sailing around the Whitsundays with ProSail. The cost is $1899 a person twin share and includes return airfares on Qantas to Proserpine via Brisbane. The price does not include land accommodation or transport to Airlie Beach to join the boat. Travel between October 6 and December 12. Call Flight Centre for details on 0800 24 35 44.

Where to stay:

Hayman Island, ph 00617 4940 1234. www.hayman.com.au

Peppers Palm Bay, Long Island, ph 0061 7 4946 9233. www.peppers.com.au/palmbay

Aside from Hayman and Hamilton, there are resorts on South Molle, Daydream, Hook, Lindeman and Brampton Islands.

Whitsundays sailing:

Low season catamaran charters with Sunsail, Hamilton Island, start from A$93 ($105) a person a night (based on eight people sharing). Or pay A$88 ($99) a person a night (based on six people sharing a sailing yacht). The company has a minimum five-night cruise. Additional charges such as insurance, fuel and marine fees add from A$160 ($180) to the charter price. Transport to and from the Whitsundays and Hamilton Island is extra. Ph 00617 4946 9900.

Closer to home:

For lots of contacts and ideas on sailing in New Zealand see www.purenz.com and look under "activities".

www.sunsail.com.au

* Nick Squires was hosted by Sunsail, Hamilton Island.