Stranded in paradise
Trapped on a tropical island in the middle of the Pacific – it sounds like a dream come true. That’s how the Fasher family are spending their lockdown, they tell Lorna Thornber.
Brett Fasher and his family might just have the best lockdown environment of any Kiwis.
The coronavirus pandemic has essentially made them castaways but, unlike Robinson Crusoe, the Lost crew, or Tom Hanks’ half-crazed ‘‘my best friend is a volleyball’’ character in 2000 film Cast Away, the Fashers aren’t exactly in extreme survival mode.
Stranded on their 59-hectare private island resort in Vanuatu, their bubble contains whitesand beaches leading to a lagoon filled with colourful fish and coral, patterned sea snakes and turtles, frangipani-scented tropical gardens, a coconut plantation, organic farm and orchard, overwater spa and yoga deck, 16-seat cinema, billiards room and library, yacht club, charter fishing boat, and all the watersports equipment anyone could wish for.
Oh, and they have ‘‘a huge underground wine locker’’ stocked with about $100,000 worth of fine wine, as well as horses trained to swim with humans on their backs.
‘‘It’s quite a special place to be in lockdown,’’ says Brett of Ratua Island, in Vanuatu, home to the five-star, not-for-profit eco-resort he runs with his wife Leah.
‘‘I just have to be careful I don’t turn into an alcoholic.’’
He and Leah, who call Kerikeri home, had only planned to be on the island for a couple of weeks. But when their flight back to New Zealand was cancelled last week, they realised they’d be there for a good deal longer, together with their son Reuben, who lives there permanently.
Fortunately, Ratua Island & Resort is pretty self-sufficient. They grow their own produce, keep cattle, sheep, goats, pigs and chickens (‘‘it’s like
Old MacDonald’s farm’’), and have a marine reserve right on their sandy doorstep.
‘‘We have huge [numbers] of fish that you just don’t see in other parts of the world any more,’’ Brett says. ‘‘Blue marlin, mahi-mahi, rainbow runner, huge schools of tuna . . . ’’
The resort usually has a staff of 50 but this has dwindled to just five, so the Fashers have their work cut out in the gardens and orchard, taking care of the animals, and continuing with various projects.
Used to sharing the island with guests, staff and superyacht sailors, the Fashers are finding it
strange and, at times unsettling, having it all to themselves.
‘‘Sometimes it’s fantastic and other times it’s quite isolating,’’ Brett says.
‘‘Our family is back in New Zealand.’’
The knowledge that they’re stranded on ‘‘a little speck in the middle of the Pacific’’ with just themselves to rely on can leave them feeling vulnerable, he says, but they feel fortunate to be in one of the few countries the coronavirus has not yet touched.
‘‘We probably couldn’t be safer in respect of the virus because we’re on an island and can control who comes and goes. We have no real need for the outside world. But we do go a bit stir crazy at times.’’
Like New Zealand, and many other nations worldwide, Vanuatu is in lockdown, but the Fashers are still able to visit the island of Espiritu Santo, about a 30-minute boat ride away, for essential supplies.
Like most in the travel industry, and I would imagine most people in general, the family hopes the resort will be up and running again sooner rather than later, in large part because it donates all of its profits to the Ratua Foundation, which improves educational facilities for children in Vanuatu by providing schools with stationery, books, computers, sports equipment, and infrastructure and student scholarships.
For now, though, the Fashers are trying to take one day at a time.
‘‘It’s a beautiful place but we are stranded here
. . . Our challenges are different to what they would be in Auckland.’’