WARMING UP, CHILLING OUT

Arriving in the Whitsundays on a Monday seemed like the right thing to do.

After all, that’s what Capt. James Cook apparently did when he discovered the islands in 1770. Cook thought he had arrived on the seventh Sunday after Easter--called Whitsunday, or Pentecost--so he named these 70 or so islands between the Australian mainland and the Great Barrier Reef the Whitsunday Group. But history suggests that the English explorer’s log was off by a day because he failed to account for crossing the international date line.

Like Cook, we explored the islands in winter. It was July (the seasons Down Under are the reverse of ours), but the weather was still agreeable enough to be called balmy. But unlike Cook, we went about our undertaking languidly, taking little note of whether we were facing east or west except when we searched for a spot to sunbathe.

My husband, John, and my brother, Benj, and I had one goal for our three-day side trip from the cooler climes of Sydney, where we were visiting family and friends: to find a tropical setting on the water. We wanted to swim and snorkel, to see the open sea and the Great Barrier Reef, and to lie on the beach and let the rhythm of the waves wash over us.

It was certainly warm enough in Sydney for hardy souls who wanted to take a dip at the city beaches. I did it once; it was brisk, but not unbearably so. Still, I had to do laps to stay comfortably warm, not my idea of a tropical idyll.

So north we went, 2 1/2 hours by plane to Hamilton, the most developed of the Whitsunday Group. The 2.3-square-mile island was supposed to have been reserved for agriculture, but a developer managed to turn his farming lease into a tourism lease and began building in the 1980s. Now the island has its own international airport and resort, but with a population of about 1,000, Hamilton still feels like a small town. It’s also not as expensive as, say, luxurious Hayman Island, the most northerly of the Whitsunday Group, or as bare-bones as the budget campgrounds at other islands, most of which were designated national parks in the 1930s.

For us and the variety of other visitors--Australian families (the island has a child-activity and day-care center), couples on short vacations and Japanese honeymooners--Hamilton had just what we needed, although in the end we didn’t quite get just what we wanted.

Despite the development, a good deal of Hamilton has remained green. Trails wind through its forests, and the hilly island has lookouts with panoramic views of water, including Sunrise Bay and the Coral Sea to the east and Catseye Bay to the north. And that’s what we were after. We also knew that unspoiled beaches and snorkeling spots were only a boat ride away.

It took less than 15 minutes after we landed to get to Coconut Palm Bungalows check-in. Our free-standing bungalow was one of about 50 scattered around a landscaped garden of grass, bushes and palm trees. Past the porch, the one large room inside had cushioned lounge chairs by the sliding-glass-door entrance and a king-size and a twin bed. The room, which had beams across the pitched ceiling that matched the wood on the floor, also had a refrigerator and a wet bar, which came in particularly handy when Benj and John both needed to shave.

Outside, to my dismay, I discovered the property also came equipped with “alarm birds,” kookaburras that awakened us with a “kook kook kook” followed by their trademark fiendish-sounding laugh.

As comfy as our bungalow was, we were eager to make the most of our first afternoon, so we quickly shed our boots, sweaters and long pants and made the transition to tropical, with walking sandals and bathing suits topped by T-shirts and shorts. The temperature was in the low 70s, and under partly sunny skies we set off for Catseye Beach, an easy five-minute walk.

But the tide was so low that it was a good 10-minute trek from the dry part of the beach to the water’s edge. The long stretch of wet sand in between made it impossible to hop quickly from beach towel into the bay and vice versa, so we passed on taking a swim.

We headed instead for Passage Peak, at 666 feet the highest point on Hamilton.

We walked along the shoreline to the trail head, where a sign welcomed and, we realized in hindsight, warned us. The trail, the sign said, was meant to be an experience in nature. It rose gently at first, then turned into steep log steps.

We climbed steadily, hardly talking until we reached a long, flat stretch. There we heard a rustling and stopped, scanning the vegetation. A brown, furry creature, sitting very still on its hind legs, stared back at us. Kangaroo? Benj asked, sounding doubtful because it looked smaller than a regulation kangaroo. No, wallaby, replied John, who grew up in Australia and knows that wallabies are smaller members of the kangaroo family. Whatever it was, I was mesmerized. Then it hopped off, breaking the spell and reminding us we had a destination.

We were about halfway to Passage Peak with about 400 feet to go, according to a trail sign. So far, the well-marked trail seemed challenging but doable. But as we continued, more steps appeared, steeper than before, with few flat breaks. Heart thumping and lungs burning, I doggedly put one foot in front of the other.

When John and I finally reached the top, huffing and puffing, Benj was standing on a picnic table perched on the rocky peak, his camera pointed in our direction. I smiled and waved. John muttered something not fit for publication.

My muscles were screaming, but the view--lush, green islands surrounded by deep-blue water--made me forget about them. To the east, we got a bird’s-eye view of Catseye Beach. We could see the 20-story Reef View Hotel, but it wasn’t quite as imposing as it was at sea level.

I settled into the scoop of a rock, breathed deeply and contemplated how millenniums ago, before the last ice age, these islands were peaks of mountains eventually almost swallowed by the sea.

We savored our time on the peak, knowing we wouldn’t climb it again.

As we got ready to leave, a woman barely breaking a sweat jogged up the trail, then turned and immediately jogged back down. Obviously a local no longer awed by the view. Her loss.

On our return, we passed the Reef View high-rise and I spied the hotel’s external glass elevator, which was stopped at the top floor and offered views of the bay. Much faster than hiking up Passage Peak, but such instant gratification probably wouldn’t have been as rewarding, I thought as my thigh and calf muscles buzzed.

A strong selling point of Hamilton is its proximity to the Great Barrier Reef, which stretches more than 1,200 miles along the coast of Queensland in northeastern Australia.

On our first morning in Hamilton, we went straight to the Dive Shop, one of the day-cruise outfits on the marina. It was too windy to aim for the reef, the proprietor said, so we chose a snorkeling trip closer by, to Hook Island. We left in the early afternoon, after being fitted for wetsuits and snorkeling gear.

The boat, carrying about two dozen passengers, eased out of the marina, then made its way north along the western side of Whitsunday Island. We sat on the upper deck, taking in the sea breeze, sunshine and the passing island cliffs and forests. As we approached Hook Island, a crew member gave us some pointers: Stay with a buddy. Don’t touch the coral. Don’t worry if you see a shark.

A woman gasped, pulling her two children close to her. No worries, the guide said, chuckling. There aren’t any around here.

We anchored at Manta Ray Bay, on Hook Island’s northern end. I jumped into the pleasantly cool water and paddled leisurely. When I submerged my masked face, I entered another and somewhat unexpected world.

I knew there would be coral around the Whitsundays; after all, they are called Barrier Reef Islands. Actually, though, the Whitsundays are continental islands (the Great Barrier Reef is about 30 miles seaward), but many, like Hook, are fringed with coral. Besides the bright yellow, blue and green fish that darted hither and yon, here was an underwater wonder in which corals of all shapes and sizes covered the sea floor, from boulder-like, nubby, neutral-colored ones to the brighter, delicately patterned kinds. Two hours passed too quickly, and Benj, John and I were the last passengers to tear ourselves away from this aquatic Garden of Eden.

Our appetite whetted, we were ready for the Great Barrier Reef the next day, a grand finale for our trip. So where were our alarm birds when we needed them? They apparently slept in, and, unfortunately, so did we and missed the only boat of the day to the reef.

I was bereft. I came all the way from Los Angeles to not see the Great Barrier Reef? I found some consolation in another water destination: Whitehaven Beach on Whitsunday Island.

We boarded a FantaSea Cruises ferry that took us the long way, a more scenic, smoother route, the captain said. Passing sailboats added to the view, leaning onward as their sails billowed in the wind. The captain gave knowledgeable commentary, as brochures had promised, although his voice disappeared in the din of the loudspeaker static and the drone of the engines. Our boat went all the way around Whitsunday Island, up one side and more than halfway down the other, to Whitehaven Beach.

I would gladly have endured the rough water of the shorter route in exchange for more time on Whitehaven, which was true to its name. Though Whitsunday Island is the largest of the group, it has no resort. And perhaps that’s what keeps Whitehaven so pristine, even though it’s popular with day-trippers. The beach, stretching more than 31/2 miles in a slight arc on the southwestern side of the island, was powdery soft, its water invitingly clear. There was plenty of room for us and our fellow passengers to spread out and pick our own piece of paradise.

What happened in the several hours between our arrival and departure is a blissed-out blur. I do remember clouds rolling past now and then, the sunlight giving way to shadows dancing on the sand and playing with the deep hues of the blue sea.

I remember seeing an egg-sized silver fish (John swore it was practically transparent) surfing the waves again and again as I swam leisurely along the shore.

The boats we took on both days served lunch and afternoon snacks, and we grazed on the sandwiches, salads and biscuits (but passed on the rice, shredded seaweed and instant noodles). By dinnertime, all that marine merriment made us hungry for seafood.

One evening we shared two dozen succulent Tasmanian oysters as an appetizer. Another, I had marvelous seafood fettuccine. Most of the food was pricey (though considering the currency exchange rate, it was a better value for Americans), and service was painfully slow at one restaurant that was barely half full. The best value was Manta Ray Cafe, on the marina, which had tasty pizzas, quick service and a relaxed setting.

Relaxation was really what this was all about, and the water was our route to nirvana. Except maybe on the last day. Every piece of paradise has a few minuses, especially if it’s a tropical paradise. The morning of our departure, the heavens opened, dashing our plans for a quick kayak trip on Catseye Bay.

Our planning, like our paradise, was imperfect. I didn’t quite get over being so close to yet so far from the Great Barrier Reef until we got back to Los Angeles. I looked into Capt. Cook’s adventures and found comfort in learning that he didn’t even know of the Great Barrier Reef’s existence when he explored the Whitsunday area. Until he ran aground on part of the reef, he had only an inkling that something must have been out there to make the water so calm and the sailing so smooth around the Whitsundays.

I know how he felt.

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Guidebook: How to See Hamilton

* Getting there: From LAX, connecting service to Hamilton Island is available on Qantas and Air New Zealand. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $1,361.

* Where to stay: You can find information on accommodations or restaurants and make reservations by calling 011-61-7-4946-9999, faxing 011-61-7-4946-8888 or checking the Internet site https://www.hamiltonisland.com.au. That’s the main number for the island; the service can connect you with any of the hotels or restaurants on Hamilton. (Note that prices on the Web site are in Australian, not U.S., dollars; $1 Australian translates to 50 cents U.S. Prices quoted here have been converted to U.S. dollars.)

Coconut Palm Bungalows is about $140 a night for two for a free-standing bungalow (add about $18 for a third person). Bungalows have furnished porches and are in a garden setting. Ask for one away from the main thoroughfare, especially if you plan to sit out on the porch, to avoid noise and fumes from the passing rental golf carts (they’re gas-powered).

The Reef View Hotel (from about $175 for a garden-view room to $580 for a presidential suite) is a high-rise on Catseye Beach. The resort has a “Kids Stay, Play and Eat Free” promotion that applies to children under 15.

* Where to eat: For breakfast, Toucan Tango (with bay views, on Catseye Beach) and Cascade Breakfast Brasserie (with garden views, at Reef View Hotel) have substantial buffets, often included in the room rate.

For lunch or dinner, Manta Ray Cafe on the marina has casual dining; main dishes (from pasta to pizzas and sandwiches) run about $5 to $15.

Mariners Seafood, also on the marina and with views of the harbor, has main dishes starting from $15 to $30 for a seafood platter lit with sparklers.

Outriggers is on the water at Catseye Beach. Its oysters by the dozen (around $12) come simply with lemon or more dressed up (with bacon and Worcestershire sauce, or Japanese style, with each oyster in a little bed of sesame-flavored soba noodles). Main dishes $10 to $17.

The Ice Cream Shop has outdoor seating on the marina and offers cones, cups and shakes ($1.50 to $4).

* Getting around: Golf carts can be rented for about $20 a day, but you can easily walk to shops and restaurants on Hamilton Island. To get to other islands in the Whitsunday Group and to the Great Barrier Reef, FantaSea cruises, tel. 011-61-7-4946-5111, https://www.fantasea.com.au, and H2O Sportz (at the Dive Shop), tel. 61-7-4946-9888, https://www.h2osportz.com.au (click on Australia link, then Hamilton link), offer day cruises. Snorkeling, diving and sightseeing trips are available. A FantaSea half-day trip to Whitehaven Beach costs about $32 per person and includes lunch. H2O Sportz’s half-day “snorkel safari,” also about $32, includes lunch aboard and snorkeling gear.

* For more information: Australian Tourist Commission, 2049 Century Park E., Suite 1920, Los Angeles, CA 90067; tel. (800) 369-6863, fax (661) 775-4448, https://www.australia.com.

*

Betty L. Baboujon is an editor in the features department of The Times.