Daily Telegraph : Sarah Marshall, June 2021
Be prepared to make a splash when arriving at Long Island’s aptly named Paradise Bay. Skipper Tristan Mars can only access the Whitsundays idyll at high tide, ferrying passengers from Hamilton Island’s airport. But without any grand jetty to dock his boat, it’s always a wet landing.
Shoes and socks abandoned, I waded to the shore, feeling every bit the Robinson Crusoe castaway. In reality, the only shipwreck survivors in this dreamy archipelago are its 74 islands. In 2017, Cyclone Debbie tore through this central section of The Great Barrier Reef, wreaking AU$3.5 billion damage. Roofs were lifted, trees uprooted and superyachts capsized. It was the worst tropical storm to hit Queensland in almost two decades.
Elysian Eco Retreat was one of the first resorts to emerge from the rubble in late 2018. When a basic, budget lodge was flattened by the winds, family-owned Australian company Sojourn Retreats stepped in to pick up the pieces, recycling and reclaiming materials to construct a luxury property unrecognisable from its simple origins. When I visited before the pandemic, the resort was already running at full speed. Experts at crisis management, the team will no doubt be ready to welcome tourists when Australia opens its borders next year.
Fanned by the shade-dappling fronds of woozy palm trees, 10 thatched cottages hem a sliver of sand within toe-dipping distance of silky turquoise water. Rope swings on porchways sway like pendulums regulating the slow passing of hours and macramé hanging chairs are perfectly positioned to watch the sun sink behind swathes of rainforest on the mainland’s Conway National Park.
Starting days with downward dogs on a poolside yoga deck, it was difficult to imagine any storm before the calm. My mornings were often spent kayaking alone, watching turtles glide in the wake of paddle swirls;
afternoons were reserved for snorkelling on the house reef or lazing in the spa. Various nature trails meander through thick forests of fig and pine trees covering the 9km-long island, but I never made it that far. Instead, the wildlife came to me: oyster catchers foraged along the shoreline; wallabies nibbled at the garden’s green shoots; and curious curlews frequently wondered into the open-air restaurant at night.