I kept my expectations of the Whitsundays moderately low, as I was convinced that everything I’d heard to date was likely over-stated – probably inadvertently, like an excited fisher estimating the size of their almost-catch. It is against this background, that my expectations were outstandingly exceeded.
The water is so vibrantly turquoise, that it makes the sky look mauve. The water is so clear that you can see every contour in the sand as if it’s just below your feet, even if you’re in four metres of water. The islands vary in their vegetation – some are heathlands with a smattering of rocks, others splotched with a patchwork of bright greens, others uniformly covered with the dark European green of pine forests. It’s heavenly, not in the tropical-island-paradise way, but in the natural wilderness way.
Our time here has been exquisite – let me describe it in my favourite way, as a montage. We’ve feasted on fresh coral trout (speared by Ben), scurfed under the light of the full moon (except me – at the time, I hadn’t mastered it), imagined gliding off every exposed peak we’ve passed, snorkel-explored some incredible sections of coral reef, taken to rowing the tender around for the joy of it instead of using the motor, basked in richly coloured sunsets and bright moonlit nights, hiked sections of Whitsunday Island, rallied to launch and land the drone safely while sailing (only a little blood was spilled), combed our fingers through the soft white sand of Whitehaven beach, played corn hole during numerous sunsets, and – as our food supplied dwindled – cooked increasingly inventive meals.
By day 15, we’d run out of fresh water on the boat so we ducked into Airlie for 24 hours of reprovisioning on land. I thought I’d be stoked for the creature comforts of landlife, but with the exception of the gourmet marina showers, we were otherwise all itching to get back out to sea.
In amongst a crowd of beautiful days, day 18 stands out. We rose early at Whitehaven beach for a walk to the lookout, and we were headed for Thomas Island when we communally decided that Lindeman Island looked paraglidable. We pulled in and attempted a wild bush bash walk to a potential launch site, without success. But on the way, we were greeted by a nursery of baby black tipped sharks and a handful of friendly turtles. After waiting out the rest of the heat of the day, Alice and Dan very patiently drove the tender while I took my sweet time learning how to skurf (ski + surfing, apparently), fortunately with some success. After an afternoon of skurfing, we hot-footed it up the hill to a different launch site, where gliders were rolled out as the sun set. Thorpie managed to grasp a window of opportunity and gracefully fly down to the beach. As we tendered back to the boat, the sea was filled with the winkling electric green light of … coral spawn, we think? It looked like fireflies on the water.
I think something that’s characterised our time here has been Thorpie’s detailed knowledge of the area. Having guided sea kayaking expeditions here, he knows how to beeline for the best spots, and has some beautiful stories from the area.
Our current plan is to spend a couple of days getting to the Percy Isles, and then bring the boat back to dock at Yeppoon – we just won’t make it back to Brisbane in time for Christmas celebrations if we sail the whole way. We are – slowly – homeward bound.
VREPS
[Lindeman Island]
The Two Swords 