A personal paradise on Dolphin Island
<p>The boat slows as we approach the second of two wooden jetties extending from a white sweep of sand. Sun loungers, life jackets, masks, snorkels and kayaks are set with the precision of chess pieces beside a hammock swinging in the breeze.</p>
<p>Island manager Dawn Simpson greets me with open arms.</p>
<p>"Welcome home darling," she says. "You're only here for a short while, but while you're here you're home."</p>
<p>The previous night I had slept next to seven strangers at an Auckland backpackers in a marquee that was billed as a yoga tent over the phone. "We call it The Refugee Tent," a young German man had said as I put down my bag.</p>
<p>Fast-forward 24-hours and it is a slightly surreal feeling to have Dolphin Island as my temporary home for the next three days. Dolphin Island is a private island off the northern point of Fiji's main island, Viti Levu. It is one of three luxury properties under the wing of Huka Retreats, which also runs Huka Lodge in Taupo and Grande Provence in South Africa.</p>
<p>I make my way to my room in a slight daze carrying a banana smoothie garnished with fresh coconut, pineapple and a glazed cherry. The scent of frangipani wafts up from the lei around my neck.</p>
<p>As tourists on other popular beaches wage battle to lay their towels down, I am about to find out what it was like to have an island to myself.</p>
<p>For lunch, Tito Rasoni brings out plates of buttery crayfish, prawns and a basket of home-baked bread so fresh the white linen it is swaddled in is warm to the touch. Worried I won't be able to finish the feast set before me, I invite Dawn to join me but she shakes her head.</p>
<p>"That's for you sweetie. You enjoy it."</p>
<p>Dolphin Island caters for a maximum of eight people at any one time, with guests offered exclusive use of the 14-acre island. Every aspect of a guest's comfort is considered by thoughtful staff. When I arrived on Dolphin Island, one of the first things Dawn told me was that the second jetty was chosen to save me a longer walk. The second jetty is less than 100 metres from the first.</p>
<p>The private resort gives guests the chance to enjoy their time away without queues or fears of what other holidaymakers will think of their beach bodies.</p>
<p>"By the time guests leave here they call me mum," Dawn says.</p>
<p>"It's a special place where people can come and be spoilt rotten"</p>
<p>"I love it because I meet a lot of people - the world comes to me here."</p>
<p>"I've only been out of my country once but I don't need to because I learn about the world through my guests."</p>
<p>Dawn began working on Dolphin Island 14 years ago with her husband Stanley. After her husband died in 2007, Dawn told island owner Alex van Heeren that she would stay on for as long as she was needed.</p>
<p>"He said, "Dawn, that is going to be a very long time. You belong here - this is your home'."</p>
<p>Dawn's front door is just 6m from the ocean.</p>
<p>"I lie in my bed in the morning and I open the curtain to see the sunrise.</p>
<p>"When guests come around they say, 'Dawn, you've got the million dollar view' and I say, 'I certainly have'."</p>
<p>Dawn's guests include visitors from China, Russia, America, Germany and France. When I arrived at Nadi Airport the Fijian Immigration officer saw my planned destination and said: "You know the singer Pink? She stayed there."</p>
<p>Fancy a lesson in husking coconuts? Sure. A facial, manicure, pedicure, or massage? No problem.</p>
<p>"To Tito," one entry in the island guest book reads. "That margarita you waded out into the ocean to bring me was terrific and will not be forgotten. Neither will you."</p>
<p>After lunch, I take the chance to look around the island. A short walk up the hill through forest opens up to a clearing with the island's open-air hilltop bedroom.</p>
<p>The secluded hideaway, which is warmed by the first rays of sun in the morning, has an unobstructed view of the ocean. The quiet of the island contrasts with the bustle of the three-hour coastal shuttle ride from Nadi Airport to Ellington Wharf.</p>
<p>We passed stalls selling fruit, live chickens and bundles of snapper, trevally and baracuda tied together with string. Beneath the shade of a corrugated iron roof, a sign read: "Coffin box for sale - cheapest in town". A man splashed his bouquet of fish with water from a chilly bin.</p>
<p>Driver Samu slowed as we approached a narrow bridge to allow an oncoming car to pass. I couldn't see any Give Way signs and I asked him how people knew which car should go first.</p>
<p>"In Fiji, we are patient," Samu explained. "If we see someone on the other side of the bridge we wait and give them time."</p>
<p>On Dolphin Island a rustle of breeze and a lapping of water are the only sounds that break the silence of a 30 degree Celsius afternoon. There's time for a quick dip in the ocean before a beer and snacks beside the infinity pool of Dolphin Island's main bure.</p>
<p>The next day after breakfast, Tito gives me a lesson on coconuts. He demonstrates how to remove the husk of the coconut, how to split the coconut in half with one swift movement of a machete, and how to methodically scrape the halved coconut against a sharpened metal bur to collect the grated fruit.</p>
<p>"The coconut is the tree of life," Tito says.</p>
<p>"It gives you milk, water and fruit. You can even make a house out of coconut."</p>
<p>I ask if Tito is ever worried about coconuts falling on people but he shakes his head. When Tito was growing up, his parents explained to him that the coconut tree had eyes to watch out for people who were passing beneath and avoid dropping fruit on them. Tito points to a triangle of darkened circles on an unhusked coconut. They are the eyes and mouth of the coconut, Tito explains, while a raised peak at the back of the fruit is a ponytail.</p>
<p>"We call it a mother fruit."</p>
<p>After my coconut lesson, Dawn and Tito catch the boat with me to the mainland for a tour of the market at Rakiraki Town and a visit to the traditional Fijian village of Nakorokula.</p>
<p>At the market piles of eggplants, chillis, tomatoes, pineapples, pawpaws and bananas are neatly laid out on white mats. On the busiest market days you can hardly find a place to walk, Dawn says. In a shop lined wall to wall with clothing, shoes, jewellery and other knick knacks there is a T-shirt that reads "All day I dream of the sea".</p>
<p>At the supermarket colourful rows of fireworks fill the shelves and banners celebrate the upcoming Indian festival of light, Diwali.</p>
<p>At Nakorokula we are welcomed with a kava ceremony and musical performance. Tour guide Evuloni explains that Fiji did not have a written language before the arrival of Europeans.</p>
<p>"For us, dancing and singing is very important. It tells you something about our history, language and stories."</p>
<p>When we return to Dolphin Island, I am treated to a relaxing massage with Elizabeth, who brings her massage table with her from a neighbouring island.</p>
<p> As night falls on Dolphin Island there is only stillness, the soft murmurs of a restless sea, and a constellation of between 50 and 60 kerosene lamps illuminating the shore.</p>
<p>After I go to bed staff work to extinguish the small beacons and tuck the cooling glass vessels away for another sunset at another time.</p>
<p>The next morning Dawn is worried about whether I will have enough to eat on the shuttle ride back to Nadi Airport. Perhaps I would like an egg sandwich for the trip? I look at the remains of my breakfast of cereal, pawpaw, pineapple, watermelon, yoghurt and homemade pastries and regretfully shake my head.</p>
<p>Dawn pauses and furrows her brow.</p>
<p>How about a cheese sandwich?</p>
<p>It is time to say goodbye and I tell Dawn how much I've enjoyed my stay as she gives me a kiss on the cheek.</p>
<p>"It's been lovely having you here," she says.</p>
<p>"It's been too short though."</p>
<p>As our boat skims across the water back towards the mainland, Dolphin Island recedes into the distance. I look back at my temporary homeland and remember the taste of coconut at different stages of ripeness, from creamy and sweet, to the bubbly tartness of fizzy drink.</p>
<p>My heart grows fat with happiness as I remember shaking the ripe fruit to my ear and hearing the sound of sloshing liquid. Within each coconut on the private island, there was a secret ocean.</p>
<p><em>Written by Selina Powell. First appeared on <strong><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://www.stuff.co.nz/" target="_blank">Stuff.co.nz.</a></span></strong></em></p>
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