Every responsible traveler knows you should keep a decent distance from marine life. But some marine life hasn’t gotten the memo. I realized this while snorkeling the Great Barrier Reef recently, when I turned my head and came face-to-face with a hefty, majestic loggerhead sea turtle. I squirmed gracelessly out of the turtle’s way; the turtle glided nonchalantly off into the depths. Around us, hundreds of fish rode the gentle currents above the contours of coral. The colors were suitably impressive: velvet clams and iridescent blue-purple parrotfish, shades you just don’t see on land. Absent from the scene: any other snorkelers or divers.
This was surprising, as I was floating around in a shallow lagoon steps from Lady Elliot Island Eco Resort’s dining room. But then again, not really. The island is very small; its only resort can host a few hundred people at a time. I was the only passenger on a 12-seat Cessna plane on the way over here from Australia’s mainland. It’s a far cry from some of the reef’s busier entry points. On average, 86 percent of the area’s tourism happens in the waters near Cairns, Port Douglas, and the Whitsundays.
Lady Elliot Island was officially discovered and named in 1816. It was the site of a guano mining operation for a while in the 19th century, then home to a series of lighthouse keepers for several decades. It became a tourism draw in the 1970s.
Photos by Kyle Hunter/Tourism and Events Queensland
What makes the island’s relative lack of people even more impressive is its accessibility. You can fly here directly from Brisbane (80 minutes) or from the Queensland city of Bundaberg (30 minutes). Some people make it a day trip; others spend a couple of nights at the resort (which encompasses the whole island and is the only place to stay on it). Rooms don’t have TVs, and Wi-Fi is only available in the main gathering areas; you’re here to get off the grid and into the water.
It’s a casual, relaxed affair. Days are spent in reef shoes and board shorts, dictated by tide times, and divided into activities listed on a whiteboard: a glass-bottom boat tour at 10:30 a.m.; an update on the health of the reef at 1:15 p.m.; another snorkel safari at 2:15 p.m. Time in between for napping on the beach or filling up a plate or two at the buffet. Perhaps a stop at the office and library to check out Reef Fish Identification or ask questions of the Master Reef Guide.
Nights are quiet, spent reading in your simple but comfortable cabin. Unless, that is, you’re here during turtle nesting season between November and March, when green and loggerhead turtles make their way up the beach to dig holes and lay eggs.
I was—and I joined a small group of excited guests in the darkness under some giant coastal she-oaks to look for them. Amid the cacophonous sound of unseen birds and under a crescent moon breaking through clouds, we paced the sand looking for their trademark tracks. Phone lights were forbidden so we didn’t disturb the turtles; we guided ourselves with torches covered in red plastic filters.
Eventually our guide Shayne saw something far smaller than a turtle: a strawberry hermit crab poking its delicate claws out of a shell. As the island’s lighthouse swept the horizon, he explained how these unassuming creatures are the fastest crustaceans on land and that males have one claw bigger than the others. The kids in the group were transfixed, as—to be honest—we all were.
Visitors can walk the entire perimeter of Lady Elliot Island in about half an hour.
Photo courtesy of Biopixel/Tourism and Events Queensland
Finally we saw a dark shape shuffling languidly up the sand. We stood and watched the turtle look for a suitable spot. We couldn’t see a great deal, but being here, on this tiny patch of the world surrounded by ocean, phone-free and observing nature in the dark, was a special moment.
I was to have another of those moments the next day, on a deep-sea snorkel safari, when the resort’s team dropped me and six other guests into a channel favored by manta rays. At first we saw very little—a deep blue murk far from the lively reef—but eventually four enormous rays materialized. One was a 50-year-old called Taurus. The reason I know his name and practically his date of birth is thanks to Project Manta, a research program that’s been here since 2007 to study the rays. Taurus, like others, is identifiable by his ventral markings.
Project Manta is just one of many science (and citizen science) endeavors on Lady Elliot Island—including reef monitoring with ReefSearch, which guests can help with, and CoralWatch, which runs in tandem with the University of Queensland. The resort also works with community groups such as Tangaroa Blue Foundation (removing marine debris) and Currumbin Wildlife Hospital.
The off-grid, solar-powered Lady Elliot Island is a true, greenwash-free beacon of sustainability. The current owner and custodian, Peter Gash, and his team have the receipts. Guests can take a behind-the-scenes tour of the facilities and get a very good look at the desalination plant that converts seawater to drinking water, the impressive collection of solar panels and batteries that powers most of the resort’s energy, and the solar-powered composter. (If you really want to dig deep, they’ve even listed complete details of their solar panel array on the website.)
The team is also working on restoring the habitat across the island, which was stripped of all its vegetation during its time as an erstwhile guano mining spot. What’s more, guests can offset their flights from the mainland, with proceeds going directly to a local revegetation program in an area critical for turtles in Bundaberg.
Taribeland Bunda Cultural Tours are presented by “elders past, present, and emerging” and reveal “teachings of Aboriginal culture through authentic storytelling and dreamtime that has been more than 60,000 years in the making.”
Photo Courtesy of Taribeland Bunda Cultural Tours
Bundaberg itself is worth an extra few days, and not only for its namesake ginger beer and rum (tours of the distillery are available). A few hours with Taribelang Bunda Cultural Tours will give you excellent insight into Aboriginal culture; I learned a lot about the region’s complicated history from my guide Waszanna, who also taught me how to use a bullroarer and served some delicious damper bread. A three-hour tour costs around $60.
At Monsoon Aquatics Coral Farm, meanwhile, founder Daniel Kimberley presides over a neon wonderland of more than 70,000 individual corals in every shade imaginable. In a series of tanks in an unassuming warehouse at the Port of Bundaberg, he and his team are growing, propagating, and nurturing more than 200 species of sustainably harvested coral for the wholesale market. Visitors can tour the facility, which is Australia’s largest coral farm, see the processes firsthand, and learn about the vital role these living organisms play in nurturing marine life. An hour-long tour costs about $20.
The coral at Monsoon Aquatics Coral Farm seems to be every possible shade of neon.
Photos courtesy of Monsoon Aquatics Coral Farm
Monsoon Aquatics is also spawning new coral and hopes to help with reef restoration efforts later this year via strategic planting in key parts of the Great Barrier Reef. Bids for the work go out soon, with projects scheduled for November, Kimberley told me. “One day I hope boats are going out with coral rather than coming in,” he said. It all feels incredibly pioneering and promising, but Kimberley described it as the first few steps of a marathon. As anyone who’s been lucky enough to visit a part of the reef knows, protecting it is a race well worth running.
Lady Elliot Island Eco Resort is the only place to stay on the island. It offers a range of accommodations, including eco cabins, garden units, and glamping tents. Prices start at about $280 per night and include buffet breakfast, lunch, and dinner, snorkel equipment, a glass-bottom boat snorkel tour, other activities, and an environmental management charge.
