• A male kangaroo is called a buck. It is also commonly called a “boomer” or an “old man”. A female kangaroo is called a doe, or a flyer. A baby kangaroo is called a joey.
• Western grey kangaroo males are known as stinkers due to their strong, curry-like smell.
• On the Australian coat of arms the Emu and the Kangaroo were selected as symbols of Australia to represent the country progress because they are always moving forward and never move backwards.

Location: Hamilton Island

Weather: Ideal for a beach holiday….terrible if you’re sailing though! Blue skies, no wind and the hottest day August day in Queensland on record. 33°c. As they’d say in the English press “ Phew, what a scorcher!”

Leaving the chaos and excitement of Race Week on Hamilton Island far behind my next posting/adventure/escape was to be the relaxing and calming Brampton Island known to many as the ‘couples retreat’. Hmm could be interesting for me then as my better half, Bre, is still down on the Gold Coast training herself up to be the best stuntgirl on the planet!

Headed down to the airport here on Hamilton Island and boarded the smallest plane yet since this adventure started…a little 6- seater so real seat-of-your-pants stuff, hear the roar of that engine and feel every little bump on the runway!

It’s only an 18 minute flight to Brampton from Hamilton but I managed to spot three Humpback whales cruising in the afternoon sunshine far below. The landing strip at Brampton Island is a tiny little one and there’s the added distraction of Kangaroos roaming wild to contend with. Luckily there’s an official ‘Roo-scarer’ who drives up and down the tarmac before approaching planes touch down to shoo any offenders away!

As with the other Voyages resorts I’ve been lucky enough to stay at, Brampton Island offers a format of holiday for relaxing, fine dining splattered with the occasional activity….if one feels that way inclined. The rooms have a great view of the ocean, in fact mine was so close that at night the sound of the waves on the foreshore became the perfect bedtime noise dropping me off into the Land of Nod. I’ve also developed a bit of a liking for one of the Voyages products which adorn the bathrooms – if you have a chance try the body wash with grapefruit, tangerine and coconut. What do I sound like? Hmmm.

There’s a usual way of exploring a new location for me and that involves running around the island to keep fit and to get my bearings for the lie of the land. Brampton’s proximity to Carlisle Island means there’s two to investigate so with a guided tour of the Carlisle’s Melaleuca Rainforest on offer I decided to get one out of the way on the first afternoon.

A short boat ride across ‘The Fishbowl’ (the channel between the two islands and home to loads of rays and turtles) to Swampy Beach dropped us in a totally different environment to that of Brampton. Gone were the palm trees and grass which populate the resort and into the more natural environment of native trees and thick undergrowth which we picked our way through. Carlisle Island has one of the largest peaks in the Whitsundays with a high rainfall and even genuine ‘rain-forest’ in the gullies which drain down to a basalt bowl at the foot of the slopes…perfect conditions for the Melaleuca Tree.

As I walked up a slight slope and down the other side I realised I was dropping into a big basalt bowl formed by an active volcano many, many years ago.  The non-permeable rock holds the rainwater like a basin providing a freshwater sponge for the hundreds of trees contained within. It’s pretty bizarre how the flora suddenly changes from Ring Pines, bushes and scrub to purely Melaleuca and nothing else. The dense cover provided by its leaves doesn’t give anything else a chance to establish and you’re left with a scene like this:

The cover also provides shelter for the hundreds of butterflies flitting between the trees and some rather large spiders who eat them too!

I’ve been trying desperately hard to restrict the amount of rich food I’ve been eating over the last few weeks in order to save my ever-expanding waistline, avoiding my favourite rare-steak in favour of fish and other less fattening alternatives…but here on Brampton I faltered. The decision was taken out of my hands as soon as I sat down for the ‘Sea-Salt Experience’ – an eight course culinary extravaganza!

Brampton Sea Salt menu

Now don’t write back saying that only I get treated like this as anyone who stays here can do it…and it’s totally worth it. With five other couples also dining there we were treated to a very unique feeling experience, personal service and a cracking chef Adam, who at 26 years old has a real way with the customers both with the cooking and the presentation he gives before each course to summarise the plate before us. I went to bed defeated, much heavier but very content too.

If you want to sit around the pool, of which there are two here; one fresh and one saltwater, you can do. Being considered a retreat for couples there’s a whole load of it going on and rightly so but I can’t do that as you also know so activities filled my days again and the jetski safari was one I’d been looking forward to.

The Kawasaki 150 machine before me had disgusted me in the past….was I about to become one of those marine terrorists who destroy the peace and quiet of island life? Fortunately not. These are eco-jetskis with lower power output, extra silencers and low emissions which meant that even with me racing up and down the ocean any couples happily relaxing on the beach could continue to do just that. I would not become an irritant today.

After a safety briefing and familiarisation session out in the open water I felt ready to take on anything; full throttle turns, figure of eights, wide arcing spray turns – I had it in the bag. Let’s go! The safari’s a chance to see the island from a different perspective, at nearly 10kms around its perimeter its a big place to take in by just walking it so getting out on the ocean and seeing it from afar isn’t only great fun but also a chance to take some different pics too:

The group of us led by Stu (with one of the best beards I’ve seen in ages) powered in and out of bays, spotted turtles, found caves and explored the beaches which are difficult to get to overland. After a quick freestyle session which almost threw me off twice, the two hours were over and we headed back to the beach. I will have sore arms tomorrow from holding on so tight!

With Hamilton Island race week happening just 50kms away, sailing is still coursing through my veins, so I took another Hobie Cat out for a play in the bay ever optimistic of another whale-moment like that on Lindeman Island (but came home disappointed.

Ok then lets try my luck at fishing instead, something I haven’t tried since arriving here in Australia and love. The last time I did was in Port St Johns, South Africa when I might as well have thrown 200 rand’s worth of tackle into the ocean I lost so much on the rocks!

My group of eight hopefuls, led by the ever chatty Glenn, headed out to Helvellyn Rocks to the south of Brampton to join the other Sunday morning hopefuls. Squid on hook, line over the side and wait….and pull….and wait….and pull….and wait and a bite!! But then nothing.

This continued for nearly an hour until we all conceded defeat, started the engines and made for the resort hopeful that the chef had been a little more successful in his bid to find something edible for the lunch table.

Sometime soon I will catch a fish and eat it and love it. To any fishes out there – be afraid, be very afraid. In fact you’re all pretty safe if it’s me doing the fishing!

Brampton provided for me a welcome break from the madness that is race week on Hamilton Island. I personally prefer a little more energy and excitement but if you’re looking to find that idyllic, palm tree and sandy beach resort where time appears to stand still and the days slowly drift by then look no further than here. Even the kangaroo’s which roam across the golf course seem to be on exactly the same vibe – relaxing and eating very well.

The food is superb and I can whole-heartedly recommend the calamari, one of my personal favourites, whilst the Sea Salt Dining Experience is well worth splashing out on. Do freak out the staff though when they disappear to the kitchen by moving all of the individually placed tables together to form a line – Courtney our waitress’s face was a picture!

I will always remember Brampton Island for one other thing though – the place a stayed up until two o’clock in the morning to watch England beat Australia in the final Ashes test to secure the series! Sorry I just had to get it in there…..

End of day location: Brampton Island

Distance travelled: 72kms

• Cockie/cocky – A small scale farmer. A cow-cockie is a dairy farmer
• Spear, get the – To be sacked
• on One’s Pat – Alone (Short for ‘on one’s Pat Malone: rhyming slang)

Location: Heron Island

Weather: Scattered white clouds and bright sunshine. Perfect day in my mind. 24c

There’s deserted islands….and there’s real deserted islands.

If I conjure up the image in my head of exactly what one would look like, I think white sandy beach, thick green scrub, clear blue sunny skies and a crystal clear ocean all around. That is Wilson Island.

...another stunning national park

As we neared the shore, half an hour after leaving Heron Island, Bec carefully navigated through the reef, which was becoming more obvious on the outgoing tide and powered us to a halt on the coral sands. Our hosts Nathan and Lynda met us (the local Island Caretakers) and what an office and back yard they have!

Back to a tent Ben!

‘Isolation’ is the name of our accommodation, a luxury safari-style tent on the western end of the island which overlooks the ocean, has our first hammock of the trip and gorgeous goose-down bedding. Somewhere, somehow I’ll fall asleep here, no problems.

There’s a maximum number of guests catered for on the island – 12! Each tent provides a sumptuous sleeping area for two people and there’s a communal day tent too overlooking the water.

The beauty of Wilson is the individuality of the place, you feel personally catered for the moment you arrive and even more so when you gather in the Longhouse for dinner – a hardwood open-sided building and the focal point to the evening’s entertainment where Nathan and Lynda conjure up a gastronomic delight with the limited kitchen they have available; two gas stoves, a gas-powered fridge and awesome wooden counters, plus the grandest of dining tables hewn from dark hardwood.

This is the 5* I like!

Where magic is made...

The Capricornia Cays, of which Wilson is one, support 84% of Australia’s Pisonia forests, which provide cover and shelter for breeding birds hence why they choose this island to bring up their young.

However during the flowering stage of the Pisonia tree, the buds are particularly sticky and this coincides with the Noddy, Shearwater and Heron hatchling season when the young wander from the nest, get caught in the sticky goo and die of starvation there. The body eventually falls to the ground acting as a natural fertiliser for the Pisonia tree. Cruel but extremely necessary for somewhere as nutritionally deficient as a coral cay.

Sunset drinks are tradition here as guests and the host gather on the western shore to share conversation, cheese and a glass of bubbly – awesome. It’s at this time of night that the immediate foreshore becomes a hive of activity too with a bait-ball of small fish racing up and down the beach furiously pursued by small reef sharks and game fish, the occasional group of them jumping clean out of the water in shimmering silver splashes.

Over dinner Nathan told us that on the sand cay in the distance there’s a catamaran which slipped its mooring in Fiji/Samoa, has drifted across the ocean and come to rest here on one of the hundreds of cays on the Great Barrier Reef – its been plundered of all goodies but remains there for now. I wish I had the energy to paddle the sea kayak there to investigate further – real pirate stuff!

Days can be spent as leisurely or actively as you want, the overwhelming feeling to sit on your ass and do nothing is something I initially struggled with – being the sort of person who can’t sit still though means Wilson becomes a playground instead. I tire myself out instead of just relaxing; head for a swim, then have a paddle, a walk around the island, a snorkel, work on the blog and then finally it hits me…….the urge to relax, arghhh at last! Slumped in my hammock Bre awakes me for dinner. The siesta is perfect.

Activities abound; sitting on the beach, kayaking around the island, bird watching and of course snorkelling – something Wilson is famous for.

Off snorkelling....looking like a right poser!

Almost like underwater fungi

The Wilson Bommie sits around 70m offshore and is well worth the swim from the island. A huge golfball shaped coral reef towering above the seafloor bustling with life; rays, turtles, squid and all manner of fish going about their individual business!

After an hour of snorkelling downwind, taking in everything below me, I’d chilled myself to the core and made for the island, looking up to search for Bre who’d joined me on the kayak. Where had she gone? I spot her in the distance a good 100 metres away, so I swim towards her and after a while look up again. This time she’s further away and not even paddling – I call out but there’s no response. Interesting what’s going on here!??!

After a good 10 minute swim I finally grab onto the handle at the back of the kayak, “What the hell happened Bre?” I ask. She turns round with a face like thunder “I couldn’t paddle this thing into the wind, so I gave up and was about to abandon ship!”

We look at each other and burst out laughing – I love her little stroppy moments! Clambering on board I grab the other paddle and together we make for the island, now a few hundred metres away, powering against the wind and swell we finally make it to the beach and lay on our backs soaking up the sun’s rays and laughing long and hard.

“Bye Bre” becomes the phrase of the day!

Fact about the Black Noddy Tern – it extends its wing in hot sunshine to kill the parasites on its body and then when it gets too hot changes to the other one. It has a white head to stop the brain overheating! Very clever.

Having lived last year in my roof-tent travelling around Africa I felt a huge connection and instant love for the accommodation here on Wilson; zipping up your door, watching the stars from the hammock, feeling the wind and air flowing through the tent, falling asleep to the sound of the ocean and awaking to the sound of the birds – all slow down the pace of life to what it should be, a pleasure not a grind.

Some people will say 'Boring island shot'; I say so what

If Robinson Crusoe had been lucky enough to wash up on the shores of Wilson Island and found it as we did, he’d still be there now absorbing it. Tom Hanks (in the film Castaway) would have joined him some years later of course – and finding it already named Wilson would have to choose a different name for the volleyball he befriended!

No need to tell the outside world where you are, far from telephone reception and with the ability to just disappear. The world and its problems can wait…..

Transport on and off the island

Of all the experiences and islands I’ve been lucky enough to spend time on over the last few weeks this was the hardest of the them to tear away from. As we stepped onto the boat and pulled away for the shore towards Heron Island, we sat and watched Wilson Island, our spiritual home for the last few days, get gradually smaller – wishing all the time we were just arriving, instead of departing.

End of day location: Heron Island

Distance travelled: 15kms