Islands playground

A chance sighting of a humpback whale and its calf capped off a perfect holiday sailing in the idyllic Whitsundays, a landscape boasting aquamarine water and dazzling white sand, writes TIM CRONSHAW.

'Whale" goes the call and sure enough an expulsion of air from warm waters reveals the denizens from the deep have come to greet us.

Better than that, it's a humpback with a calf.

Our yacht is made to pirouette so the crew can get a closer look.

Perhaps sensing they are being admired, the maternal mammal rises to the surface at a discreet distance and lifts a fin in acknowledgement before retiring underwater with young one in tow.

This is one of many freeze-frame moments while sailing around Australia's Whitsunday Islands.

It more than makes up for a false tsunami alarm in the early hours of the morning - so much for a lazy sleep-in - and infrequent showers to conserve precious freshwater. Even the red haze of wind-blown dust hanging over us from the Outback clears to make for crystal-clear views of dazzling white beaches and rocky coastlines.

Later, when we deliver our 15 metre yacht back to Hamilton Island at the end of an all-too-short holiday, someone tells us we were lucky as whale sightings have been few lately. Strict rules govern craft approaching whales in these waters: they have to keep their distance. This protectiveness extends to coral stopoffs and their water life to ensure they remain for future visitors.

Our crew consists of three seasoned sailors, a couple of novices, including myself, and a pair of teens who prise themselves from laptops and electronic entertainment for the slower heartbeat of life at sea.

Home for the next eight days is our chartered Jeanneau Odyssey yacht, Impulsive. Its four bunkrooms with en suite shower provides as much privacy as can be expected in a confined area. The galley is more than adequate for the gastronomic delights advancing on our plates daily and the cockpit is our revolving lounge with its ever changing sea views.

In tandem with us is another Odyssey crewed by more family and friends. Skipper Phil has that helm and his brother, Tim, is on leadership duties for the first time on our yacht. He makes a good fist of the job, plotting a tight course, keeping the sails taut and ensuring safe anchorages.

Crew members from both yachts have been to the Whitsundays before and on previous excursions to Tonga, Tahiti and Croatia so we are in safe hands.

On hand in the marina to meet us, after an hour-long flight from Brisbane to Hamilton Island, is Mal, a wizened master of the sea judging by his sun-battered face.

The Sunsail charterboat representative sits us under shade and goes through a thorough briefing.

We are shown some of the must-see islands on a big map and are warned to have motors running during narrow passages. Costly episodes are recounted of holed yachts and careless crews running aground repeatedly to keep us sensible.

Hamilton Island's touristy marina area is a hub of activity. The common mode of transport on the island is by golf cart. Skateboards are banned to the eternal gratitude of parents and for some reason - best known to the gods - cycles are virtually taboo.

Prices might be a bit steep, especially after factoring in the exchange rate. Expect to part with A$5 for a coffee - but this fails to tarnish our first lick at island life.

The marina is packed with shiny white yachts vying for space.

Chartering a yacht - bareboating - allows weekend (and week-long) warriors to sail without the lifetime mortgage of owning one.

Hamilton Island's bright lights might be enticing, but it's small fry compared to the oceanic playground outside its shores best visited by sailboat.

Our passage takes us from as far north as picturesque Hayman Island to the southern leg of Lindeman Island.

For the most part gentle breezes allow Impulsive to cruise comfortably and we manage to blow out the cobwebs on the second day between North Molle and Whitsunday islands with a 20-knot wind.

Regrettably, this is the site of a failed fishing attempt. A strike at the lure trailing behind us on 60-kilogram line has us manning all stations. The skipper grabs the line and I, as a novice, take the helm. A misunderstanding in directions and to my chagrin the yacht speeds up and the line snaps off. The skipper is unhappy and fresh fish is off the menu. Two spotted mackerel later makes up for the disappointment.

When the wind fails us, or we slumber into laziness, there is always a reliable engine to keep us on our travels.

A highlight is surely the snorkelling at many anchorages. Getting close to the marine life at Blue Pearl Bay with its bommies and coral ledges on the western shoreline of Hayman Island takes some beating. Giant fish peer at us from a safe distance while their smaller, gregarious and multi-coloured, cousins dart past masks against a background of fluorescent-hued coral. Equally captivating underwater is Butterfly Bay on Hook Island.

Further on our trip a row of masts peaking over a jutting headland gives a hint of what is to come next. We jostle alongside the crowded shoreline for a midday anchorage and point our tender, a small rigid-bottomed rubber craft with outboard engine, to shore.

The dazzling white sands with aquamarine waters signals this is Whitehaven Beach. Taking teens aboard a yacht is soon justified when a member of our younger crew stumbles upon thousands of blue soldier crabs.

These amazing crustaceans seem to surge out from nowhere and when startled scuttle en masse across the sand and back to their retreats. Later, our observations of the animal world are made complete when we pass under hundreds of fruit bats hanging upside down in broad daylight during a walk to the Club Med resort at Lindeman Island. When disturbed they swirl around. Creepy.

Whitehaven Beach is said to be among the top 10 beaches in the world. Sandy myth or not, the beach lives up to its hype.

The strip of squeaky white sand extends as far as the eye can see, bordered by native bush on one side and postcard-coloured waters on the other.

There are better anchorages than a rolling Whitehaven slop in these islands, but surely there can be few early morning vistas comparable to this piece of paradise.

Before long the frantic pace of body clocks conditioned to city life slow down and rituals are built around indolent starts, an early morning swim and nothing more taxing than an extended breakfast. Watching turtles rise to the surface becomes an energetic activity.

The inertia is broken mid-week when a long-distance call from a concerned Kiwi friend warns us of an approaching tsunami generated from an island earthquake. Bleary- eyed, we hurriedly weigh up anchor, warn unmoved yachties who go back to sleep, and head out for safety in open water.

Radio communication later confirms we are in no danger, but everyone agrees it is better to be cautious than a rare tsunami fatality and we carry on motoring between Hayman and Hook islands intending to sail south. If we hadn't been woken from our stupor we might have missed the humpback mother and child soon afterwards for the defining moment of sailing in the Whitsundays.

- © Fairfax NZ News