During 2004 and 2005 I spent six months living an idyllic life on Hamilton Island in the the Whitsundays off Queensland, Austrailia. I worked as a yacht detailer for a charter company. It was hard work but always fun and a major perk was that we could take yachts out for free on our days off.
Seemingly endless days were spent sailing, snorkelling, walking barefoot through deserted islands and grilling fresh fish on our barbeque on the boat. Yes I'm sickening myself too. Oh to go back.
Catseye beach on the resort side of the island. Passage peak, the highest point of the island is visible in the background.
A view of the harbour and the dock on which I worked.
My bestest Aussie friend who I miss dearly - Lucy.
This is on the boat 'run to paradise' which we used to jump on after work at Sunsail for the weekly race around the neighbouring island.
Run to paradise - the boat on which I learned to sail. (I'm officially a 'competent crew member' you know)
Flo and Jesse on the heavenly Hill Inlet. It was a gnarly day and the row in from our boat seemed to take hours.
The one and only time I managed to make it to Passage Peak. With views to Whitsunday Island.
Rory (a friend since aged 3 or 4 and lucky possesor of an Australian passport) on the harbour side of the island.
This was a staff party for Sunsail - someone had painted twister on to a huge old sail so 20 or more people could play at once. Here they're stepping the game up a notch to separate the wheat from the chaff.
This is me snorkelling in what I found out later is a hammerhead shark breeding ground.
On another trip to this inlet we swam in to the island and visited a cave with ancient aboriginal paintings.
Someone remind me why I'm living in Belfast?