Turtle Island in Fiji is, arguably, the world's most exclusive resort. Former corporate entrepreneur Richard Evanson has devoted his life to crystallising everyone's fantasies of a private island paradise.
Text and Pictures: Philip Game

Where would global media magnate Rupert Murdoch choose to go for a holiday? How about a remote island, no telephones or modern-day distractions, only a handful of carefully-screened guests, and yet all the luxuries one could ask for without having to pay bills or change currency? You can get all that and more at Turtle Island Resort, the plush, private hideaway loca

The first sight that greets visitors to Turtle Island resort

ted on an isolated Fijian island. Movie buffs will recognise this as the exotic location for Blue Lagoon, the Hollywood film starring Brooke Shields.

The only way to get to the island is by sea-plane. After a spectacular flight over islands of mottled emerald, surrounded by coral reefs, the sea-plane glides to a halt on a remote Fijian beach. Richard Evanson, the man behind Turtle Island, introduces himself as we step onto the pristine sand. So does his staff, bearing cocktails served inside fresh-cut milk coconuts. We're greeted by our first names, since our photographs have been relayed digitally to the island ahead of our arrival.

The sea-plane transports Turtle Island's guests from `reality' to `paradise'. The concept is simple but effective--as soon as you're aloft, you're in paradise, removed from money and telephones. Almost every conceivable indulgence is included in your pre-paid package.

For almost three decades, Richard Evanson, now 68, has single-mindedly crystallised everyone's fantasies of a private paradise, painstakingly developing a retreat which is luxurious yet without the artifice of conventional resorts. Evanson has set a new benchmark at Turtle Island, the first of Fiji's deluxe small-island resorts. The Yasawas, as the islands are known, lie about 80 km off Viti Levu, Fiji's main island.

Since his arrival on the island which was once denuded by feral goats, Evanson has planted half a million trees. He continues to oversee the planting of 200 casuarinas each day. The result is the 500-hectare Nanuya Levu, now better known as Turtle Island, one of only two freehold islands in the group: a rare situation in Fiji where land tenure is a recurrent cause of unrest. This also enables Turtle Island to frame its own rules. Evanson decrees that his clientele should approximate a companionable dinner party: no more than 14 English-speaking adult couples; no singles on the prowl and no same-sex pairs. Guests stay a minimum of six days; children are welcome only at certain fixed times of the year. Two-thirds of Turtle's guests come from USA and the remainder are mostly Australasian; repeat visits account for up to half of the occupants. Celebrities who have joined in Evanson's extended dinner party include Ringo Starr, who enjoyed being plain Richard Starkey; John Cleese, who for once wasn't being funny; and Rupert Murdoch.

Inside our two-room beachfront cottage built in traditional Fijian style, await a four-poster kingsize bed, a large indoor spa, handcrafted hardwood furniture, a wet bar, including an ice-maker, and a Bose CD player. French champagne chills in an ice bucket and more is at hand. Outside, beach chairs and kayaks are pulled up onto the sand at our private cove, lapped by tempting waters. Who needs a swimming pool? This is Hollywood's own Blue Lagoon, the location for both the 1948 and the 1979 production starring Brooke Shields and Chris Atkin. Evanson sometimes regrets he didn't hold out for even one per cent of the box-office takings.

The nearest thing to a front desk on Turtle Island is the `dock lady': whichever staff member, equipped with walkie-talkie radio, is coordinating traffic from a booth beside the jetty. We put down our names for a private picnic at one of the 14 private beaches. The dock lady also sets up deep-sea fishing, scuba diving, excursions to a Fijian village on a neighbouring island, mountain biking, sunset cruising, sailing, kayaking, snorkeling and windsurfing. At Devil's Beach, a picture-perfect stretch of palm-fringed sand, we disembark with a hamper of local lobster and mackerel, a rich variety of gourmet salads, cheese and fruit platters and, of course, the wine. A short walk leads to the Stone God idol made for the 1979 movie production, an eerie sight through the clearing, although the structure is now breaking up.

As for himself, my host enjoys a convivial home life at the hub of an extended Fijian family. Evanson's first million, made from cable television on America's West Coast, was eroded by a bitter divorce settlement. In 1972 his new Fijian venture was literally uprooted by Hurricane Bebe. Evanson and 17-year-old Joe Naisali, his first employee, took shelter under the roots of a giant banyan tree until the storm passed. Since then, Evanson has channelled considerable energy into developing the wider community of the Yasawas, although some outsiders have quietly urged a more consultative approach.

You can opt for peace and solitude on the private island resort

Evanson conceived the island's new chapel which boasts striking leadlight windows which blend the Biblical creation with Fijian lore. Turtle Island's continued sponsorship of eye and medical clinics is recognised as a significant and lasting contribution to the Yasawas and the nation at large. Evanson now plans to build, equip and staff a permanent community-hospital.

Says photographer james siers, a frequent visitor to the Yasawas: ``Richard is compulsive... [he] fascinates all who know himÉ you either like him or are put offÉ but you still cannot deny the scope of his personal achievement.'' As travel writer Tom Cockrem puts it: ``The islands are the country's main drawcards. Everyone knows why.'' Visually, the place astounds--vivid turquoise waters, tiny sand-rimmed islets with palms bowing deference to the sea. They look exactly like the glossy brochure photographs.

``There are no disappointments,'' says Cockrem, adding: ``Hospitality is the key. That's something that the Fijians are famous for. It's part of their culture. The smiles you get are big and real: a guest at a resort is like a guest at their village, and you are treated as such.'' If the essentials of Fijian hospitality haven't changed, the packaging has. Evanson presides over an agro-industrial complex which recycles as much of its own waste as possible and has grown to include timber plantations, furniture and cabinet-making workshops, tropical vegetable gardens and even hydroponics. Evanson himself can be seen at the controls of a bulldozer at six in the evening.

...or can go game fishing

Most local people support themselves by subsistence agriculture and fishing; but as many as 150 employees live at the resort or commute daily across the lagoon to grasp their opportunity to join the cash economy. Local fishermen sell the endangered green and hawksbill turtles to the resort for auction to the guests. The highest bidder has his name engraved or painted on the shell, rendering the animal worthless to poachers, before it is released back into the water. The animal's survival is assured and the proceeds go to the staff fund.

Guests are pretty much left to do as they please, though dinner is served at a long communal table under the stars. The only absentees are those starry-eyed couples who have chosen dinner-for-two on one of the pontoons. The cuisine is directed by Jacques Reymond, a prominent Melbourne chef; the wines have come from Oregon, USA and Tasmania, Australia.

What sort of people have shelled out $7,000 to be here? Don and Veronica are a 30-something couple from Wellington, New Zealand, where they work in banking and telecommunications respectively. Of similar mien are Brendan and Melissa, an extroverted Sydney couple in their early 30s. Ike and Mary Lou are a relatively quiet middle-aged couple from small-town Michigan. Another twosome hails from a rural valley in Oregon, close by the source of tonight's table wines. The honeymooners include Jeff and Su Ellen, newlyweds from Miami and Maine. Out on the pontoon, gazing into each other's eyes, are a couple of young Indian-American professionals recovering from their colossal wedding in Mumbai.

Eight in the morning; calm waters lap softly on the beach. I've been horse riding on Long Beach to watch the sun come up, and am looking forward to breakfasting on eggs benedict. Scarcely a guest is stirring near the jetty but a distinctly un-Fijian phenomenon is underway. Evanson is pacing back and forth in front of a row of intent faces, focussed on their daily pep talk. Paradise doesn't just happen...