Marine Dream: Exploring Lizard Island resort's water world
You can't speak when you're 50ft below the surface, but judging from the wide eyes of my dive instructor and her animated gesticulation towards what looked like a beige rock, she certainly had a lot to say. I strained my eyes through the warm, turquoise water and could just about make out a white pimpled prong, no bigger than the size of my little finger. I signalled 'OK', which seemed to appease her, though I still had no idea exactly what it was I was looking at, and why it was important.
I wasn't the first Brit to arrive on Lizard Island (which now houses a 40-room resort of the same name) in North Queensland, 150 miles north of Cairns, and not immediately see something that was staring me in the face. Legendary explorer (and proud Yorkshireman) Captain James Cook found himself here in 1770.
Back then, he clambered up to the highest point on the isle, desperately trying to find a way through the maze-like coral reefs that splayed out in the seas below, which he had been attempting to navigate for days. Now, things are little different. In fact, on landing on its white sand beaches (now officially a National Park), I was greeted with champagne and fresh slices of pink and green dragon fruit at the island's sole resort. It seems no one is in any rush at all to leave.
As I strolled through the grass to my ocean-view room, I spied one of the yellow-spotted monitor lizards that provided the inspiration for Cook when it came to naming the island. Although I was mesmerised watching this particularly friendly female, there was another specimen I'd be sharing the island with that I had more specifically come to see: the marine biologist.
Since 1973, hotel guests have shared these shores with the Lizard Island Research Station, from where visiting and resident scientists, naturalists and conservationists study the Great Barrier Reef. I was there to not only meet them, but to take part in a new Reef Expedition programme - a joint venture between the station, the resort and Australian Museum, which owns and manages the island.
A maximum of 12 guests at a time have the chance to dive and snorkel with the experts and learn about the Earth's largest living organism, then relax while gorging themselves on a seemingly endless supply of exquisite food, or pottering over to one of the island's many secluded beaches for a bespoke picnic via their own private dingies. As classrooms go, this one certainly takes some beating.
'The main thing you'll notice is a mix of coral in various states,' explained Lyle Vail, the co-director of the Research Station, as he showed me around the different tanks and labs on site. He proudly revealed that he and his wife have been based on the island since 1990, even raising their son Alex (now an underwater filmmaker) right here on these idyllic sands.
'Bleaching is something everyone's talking about - especially since David Attenborough highlighted the problem recently,' he continued, picking up a hard white piece of coral and holding it out for me to inspect. He explained how the coral lives in a relationship with the algae that feeds it and gives it its colour. Stresses - most recently two cyclones (2014 and 2015), followed by a rise in water temperature (from the usual 28C up to 32C) - causes this algae to turn toxic. The coral then expels it, and turns white: unless it reabsorbs some more algae, so that the process can begin again.
Back at Lizard Island Resort later that afternoon, stress was the last thing on my mind as I relaxed on the decking outside my oceanfront villa while looking out along my own private pathway to the beach. The accommodation here doesn't hold back on sumptuous touches.
Inside, the clean Scandi-chic interior is all white linen and driftwood furnishings. Staff deliver wicker baskets with freshly baked treats from the chef, while aromatherapy burners fill guest rooms with the scent of jasmine and lavender. But as calming as the inside is, the focus is very much on what's outside: a floor-to-ceiling glass door directly opposite the bed allows you to watch the waves while you rest.
I spent my evenings at the Saltwater Restaurant and Bar - with a 180-degree panoramic view over the beach. Every single one of the staff knew each of the guests' names and brought over a daily offering of seafood infused with Asian and European touches and paired with specially recommended wine from the walk-in cellar. As the sun set, its blistering bursts of red, purple and orange reflecting on the surface of the sea, I wondered how nature could create such vivid colours. But underwater, things are even more vibrant.
Over the next couple of days, while snorkelling,I saw that some sections of the reef were brightly coloured with reds, oranges and blues, like an elaborate patchwork quilt, while elsewhere were patches of white, as Lyle had described.
There were the trademark squiggles of brain coral stretched in huge bulbous domes, a dazzling mix of pink sea anemones where orange and white clownfish lingered; brown brittle starfish were strewn across the coral; there were spaghetti worms with their stringy white tentacles trailing like shoelaces, giant clams with huge purple lips and iridescent parrotfish curiously peering through the cracks.
Top Five Lizard Island adventures
Between swims, I explored the island itself and, following the advice of resident naturalist Ben, undertook a dawn hike up to 360m Cook's Look - the very spot where the captain had once regarded the matrix. En route, I stopped to watch egret fly amid the mangroves, as well as yellow sunbirds flitting between the branches. I paused while strolling along the yawning beach at Watson's Bay, and had my breakfast on the summit while a rainbow appeared on the horizon.
The view I saw would have looked exactly the same as when Captain Cook was here all those years ago. Back then, he eventually spotted a navigable channel through these waters, making the reef instantly accessible. Is that accessibility necessarily a good thing, I wondered?
'Absolutely,' said Lyle on my last day. 'The reef is so important to the whole world - not only for the tourist dollars it brings, but because it protects coastlines, shelters a quarter of the world's marine mammals, and ensures a healthy stock of fish in the ocean for fishing industries. It's an early-warning system for the health of the planet, and though people can be told the problems, coming to see it for themselves is key. It's not magic - we know how to stop it, we just need to want to.'
On my last dive, amid the wall of blank coral my guide was keenly pointing at, I suddenly realised just what it was I was looking at. A tiny sprouting cream coloured antler of some staghorn coral, just under a year old, was growing: a sign that recovery - though small - really can happen.
Lizard Island runs a number of four-night Reef Expeditions on set dates throughout the year, hosted by Wendy Morris, founder of the Reef Society, and Dr Penny Berents, senior fellow at the Australian Museum Research Institute. Prices from $2,904 (￡1,575)pppn and include guided inner- and outer-reef snorkel or dives, guided tours and talks with the resident naturalist, sunset drinks with the visiting researchers, a personal tour of the Research Station, all food and drink and the use of dingy, stand-up paddleboards and kayaks, plus exclusive access to parts of the reef not normall y seen by visitors.