Saturday 5 October 2024 – Yesterday, 4th October, marked the start of the last leg of our two-month trip around Australia, as we beat a fairly hasty Retreat from the Rose Gums Wilderness (see what I did there?). Our destination for the day was Lizard Island, a 10 km² chunk of the Great Barrier Reef, off the north-east coast of Australia. The name refers to a multi-island group, a National Park, and a resort of the same name. The main island is small, and the only ways to get to it are by boat or on a light aircraft; using the latter was our plan, a one-hour flight departing from Cairns airport. We had a mild attack of planning hiccups when it became clear that we didn’t know how to get from the Avis car rental return depot to the “General Aviation Terminal” whence the East Air flight would depart. Our Audley instructions were simply to “make our way” thither, but it looked like it was over 1km, which is a bit daunting when burdened by suitcases and backpacks. We were also not sure that we’d get away with our baggage as it was – probably overweight and possibly oversize. (I emphasise that I’m talking about our luggage, here, but two months of relentless tourism travelling meant that those adjectives also applied to us by this stage.) We had pre-empted problems by hiving off some of the heavier and less relevant items (including my drone) into separate bags for storage whilst Jane contacted the Lizard Island Resort and we learnt a couple of key things: firstly, the flight was with an airline called Hinterland (not East Air as Audley had told us); the second was that there was a transfer possible (which it was clear that Audley had not booked for us), but the nice lady on the other end of the phone was able to fix it.
So we scurried off into the gathering dawn and drove to Cairns, where Avis agreed that I hadn’t trashed their nice Camry and where we had time for a coffee before being collected and taken to Hinterland’s small but comfortable terminal. I had a slightly tense moment when they weighed my camera bag; we’d been told that there was a 5kg weight limit on hand baggage, but they didn’t seem too fazed by my 11kg of camera and related stuff. I’m not sure what I’d have done if they’d objected.
We were shown upstairs into the lounge where we made idle chitchat with fellow passengers Susan and Michael from Denver, and later with a chap called Harry who was travelling out to Lizard Island to skipper the resort’s fancy fishing yacht. He gave me the tip to sit on the starboard side of the plane if I wanted to take photos of the Reef as we went, which of course I did. So I sharpened up my elbows in preparation. Our plane turned out to be (yet) another Cessna Caravan, so I knew which seat to head for, from previous experience.
There were some clouds around, but both Jane and I managed some, OK loads of, photos as we flew to the island. Here are some of them.
Lizard Island
The resort is part of the Relais et Chateaux group and so one would expect a lovely environment and great service. One was not disappointed. We were whisked away by buggy to lunch with a view
while our bags were spirited off to our cabin, which shared, with Thala Beach, the distinction of being practically as far away from the bar as was possible. but which made up for that with its view.
After all our schlepping round Australia, I had expected our two-day stay here to be an opportunity, to misquote Br’er Rabbit, to “lie low and do nothin'”. It almost immediately became clear that this, while possible, was not the probable MO of our stay here, as that very afternoon there was a “bat walk”; an excursion to view the island’s colony of flying foxes. Harry the boat skipper had mentioned back in Cairns that there was a research station on the island, part of the National Park and sufficiently distinguished to have hosted no less an eminence than David Attenborough in the past, so a visit there was an attractive option. It’s indicative of the quality of service of the resort that they were able to fix up a way that we could squeeze in a visit to the facility on the morning of our departure. There would also be an opportunity to do some snorkelling. This is something that I had previously set my face against, but I decided to Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway. I’d brought my waterproof camera with me, and I would therefore hope to get some worthwhile underwater shots while not making a complete arse of myself in the snorkelling group.
All of this activity did leave us some time to relax, but come 5pm, it was time to hunt the bats, so we went for a walk. Obviously. Our guide, Lauren, was the resident naturalist for the resort, and thus, as one would expect, was very knowledgeable about all sorts of aspects of the wildlife and environment here, and also some of the history. We climbed “Chinaman’s Ridge”, which gave us a decent view over Watson’s Bay.
Why is it called Watson’s Bay? I hear you cry. Well, it’s named after Mary Watson, who in 1881 settled in a stone cottage built there by her husband, Robert Watson. About 20 years before, other stone buildings had been erected there by Europeans, Chinese and South Sea Islanders in order to process bêche-de-mer, which is the posh French name for sea cucumbers. Sadly, the location was one that was sacred to the aboriginal tribes who had been dwelling hereabouts for several thousand years, and they eventually took umbrage and spears, and attacked Mrs. Watson and the two Chinamen who worked alongside her. The Chinamen were killed, and Mary Watson fled, but died in the escape attempt; her courage and the dignity she evinced in her journal of the episode has etched this rather distressing (and disrespectful) episode into the public imagination, and the site – now just the ruins of the cottage and visible from Chinaman’s Ridge –
is now listed on the Queensland Heritage Register.
Back to the bats, though. The idea of the walk was to see the colony of fruit bats who hang out (see what I did there?) in mangrove thickets. It’s a small colony, about 200 strong,
of black flying foxes, which were rather unexpectedly at eye level rather than high in the treetops. The mangroves were so thick it was still difficult to get good shots of them though. They were preparing to go out to forage,
but there was other fauna to be seen,
and flora – kapok fruits bursting into seed on some trees and with flowers still on display in others.
After the walk, we had dinner in the restaurant, hanging from the roof of which was a Sun Bird nest, with the female guarding eggs and looking out at the world.
My plans to spend the whole of today, Saturday 5th, doing nothing also failed to materialise. Since we were on Lizard Island, Jane had the idea of going out and looking for lizards. She had another item on her agenda, which was to look for her sunglasses, which she was convinced had fallen off whilst we were looking at the bats. She told the hotel reception about the loss, but they had nothing handed in. So once again, we went for a walk. Obviously.
Actually, we cheated slightly. As we were walking the path towards the airport, a buggy driven by the resort’s Experience Manager, Paul, drew up, and he offered us a lift part way – indicative of the level of service the resort delivers. Paul took us to the track we’d walked the previous day and Jane and I cast about for the exact spot where we’d been watching the bats. We eventually found it, but there were only footprints; no sign of the sunglasses. We did get some lizard pictures, though – various differently-sized Yellow Spotted (or Argos) Monitor Lizards, with the largest being a couple of metres from head to tail.
We got photos of a couple of other creatures, too.
On the way back to the hotel, we passed a bar called the Marlin Bar. It is part of the hotel but is open to the public (e.g. those who have arrived by boat and been fishing for the day), and so we felt it our duty to pop in and check it out. Over the bar is a replica of a huge (500kg) Marlin that had been caught at some stage and which, I believe, had been the catalyst for starting the Lizard Island Marlin Challenge, winners of which were listed at the bar. I should point out that all marlin caught are returned to the sea…
It was
a pool bar. Boom, tish.
We headed back to the hotel proper for a final drink, and while we were sitting at the bar we got another dose of the hotel’s excellent service; one of the receptionists came up and handed Jane her sunnies! One of the staff had been out at around midday to watch the bats, had noticed the sunglasses there and picked them up. Back at reception, two plus two were added, the result four was obtained, Jane’s presence (surprising, this) at the bar was noted and the sunglasses handed over, to loud cheers and much laughter. It’s not like they were posh or expensive, but nonetheless Jane was very grateful to all the staff concerned in getting the glasses back to her.
After dinner, we headed back to our cabin,
and so I thought I’d end the day with a photographic cliché, just for you.
We have one more day here, but relaxing during it is not where my head is; I have decided that I will go snorkelling, despite having set my face against ever suffering the faff, salt water and embarrassment that has dogged my previous attempts. So, instead of relaxing, I shall be spending the day psyching myself up for it. Stay tuned to see how it went, eh?
Well I love the cliché photo!
All the best for the snorkelling