My flight to Gladstone left at 9:20am, thus calculating backwards, that meant I had to leave Eungella around 6am and get up predawn.

God the drive back to Mackay was wierd. I finally got to see what the wierd mist was in the dawn light and yes, we really were above the cloud layer which descended in the night to envelope the top tip of the Eungella rainforest. Not only that though, but when I drove through the wierd Derbyshire-like patch there were sprinklers everywhere, it was like a well kept english lawn - this explained the incongruous lushness of the area.

And it just got wierder as I descended into the flat plain at the foot of the mountain - all the sugar plantations were swathed in a thick fog - it was like all the moisture from the mountain had dewed in the night and was now burning off again in the heat of the accelerated dawn. It added a bizarre tinge to the day with this great long roads disappearing off into increasingly thicker patches of mists and slow cane trucks and goods lorries breaking out of the mist in swirling clouds with their headlights on in the orange yellow half light. Quite atmospheric actually.

Just as most Queenslandians wake up with the dawn and go to bed at sunset, they all seem all of a rush to do all the utilitarian things in the cool of the morning with a view to packing up about 11am and (maybe) resuming work again around 3pm. Thus all along the Mackay/Eungella road at dawn (as this was sugar cane country) there were loads of cane trucks and tractors and pickups - all the sort of stuff you never see moving around later in the day (they're usually in the fields harvesting by then and the only trucks you see on the roads are the ones shifting beer). Also, there were dairy vans moving to and from the strange Derbyshire area. I can see now why Oz doesn't need IT immigrants, it is essentially rural. Albeit, a rural that we UK people don't usually think of, but like in Queensland at least is basically just sugar cane or bananas or beef/dairy and computers are of little consequence, the Internet even less so as vast swathes of the population are out of broadband/televison/mobile phone range. Geeks are incredibly priviledged in the UK. Or perhaps its just that the UK is a breeding ground for geeks whereas Oz just can't support them and they become surfer dudes instead.

I got to Mackay in good time and refilled the car like a dutiful rentalee (boy did that thing guzzle diesel in comparison to the camper). Mackay airport was a bustle of activity - not. I got there and there was no one to give my car keys back to (I posted them in a drop box) and no-one at the checkin desks (they only bothered checking in 20mins before the flight) and a security check area that was full of bored aussies in yellow jackets lounging around and they looked surprised when I arrived and actually seemed to want my bag scanned.

It turns out my flight was a real locals flight. It stopped at Rockie (Rockhampton - 50mins flight), Gladdie (Gladstone - a further 15 mins flight) and Brissie (Brisbane - probable a further 40mins) and basically just shuttled businessmen from one place to another. Indeed the guy next to me lived in Rockie and had just finished business in Mackay (equivelant of a Manchester/London thing with an enforced overnight cos of flight times). It wasn't exactly a tinpot plane, it was still 4 seats across unlike the Lizard Island Cesna for instance, but the multistop gave it the feel of a bus service and sure enough our light snack was no frills and practically everyone got off at Rockie, leaving about 5 of us continuing on, and no-one got on to join the continuing flight. I was the only person who got off, 15 later, in Gladdie. I paused to try and send a quick email before being cut off on Heron Island, but it was so obvious that I was the one who'd ordered the helicopter flight in that deserted airport that the woman at the helicopter desk actually walked over to get me before I could finish.

I had booked a helicopter transfer to Heron Island. Partly this was because there was no way I could catch the 10am launch without overnighting in Gladdie which I simply wasn't prepared to do (cos I got the impression Gladdie was about as dull as Townsville and Mackay). Partly it was because I had never been in a helicopter before and it sounded like a cool/strange/scary thing to do.

The helicopter transfer service was run by a small charter company similar to the cesnas that shuttled people for the Spirit of Freedom trip. They had their own little office in Gladdie airport and once you had 'checked in' you were ushered to a little lounge where you were shown a safety video (and the safety procedures for a helicopter are radically different from those of a plane, as are the flying procedures - different safety belt, you have to wear a earmuff/headset, you aren't allowed anything that's loose etc). This done, a nice checkin girl escorted you to a tiny private chopper just outside, strapped you in, put on your headgear, introduced you to the pilot, then got the hell away as quickly as possible while he started the engine.

Helicopters are great! I once tried to fly one on a flight sim computer game so obviously I know all about them, but basically the dynamics are wierd and basically you have a number of warring forces - you got the blades spinning round at the top and you can tilt these to lessen or greaten the vertical lift, you got the rotor at the back which is essentially the rudder, you got the angle of the overal craft (e.g if angle yourself left, you'll travel left, and you've got the cockpit's overall desire to spin round and round madly which can be controlled (torque?). Practical upshot: when you've flown a bit you know planes take off by running sideways for a while until (it feels like) the wind catches under the wings and they take off. Helicopters (disturbingly) just, like, go vertically upwards, from a standstill, and it's very odd - like being in an out of control lift. Once they have risen to a set height and want to go in a particular direction, the whole thing simply tips wildly in that chosen direction, sort of in the way planes yaw from side to side though helicopters lean frontwards to go frontways and slantwards to go slantways, the whole thing is just crazy.

The helicopter does about the same speed as a cesna and flies about the same height, thus the meat of the journey felt very like The Spirit's scenic flight back to Cairns and you only knew you were in a chopper when it changed direction, oh and that it was so damn noisy.

When we landed (elevator down 30 floors sensation) someone came to greet me and I got to do the crouchy down sprint away from the chopper thing you see in movies a lot - that made me feel big. What made me feel bigger was that my luggage sort of evaporated and rematerialised in my room a bit later, and best of all I had got a complimentary upgrade from scum class studio room in the back of beyond to 'Reef Suite' with views of the sea, a stones throw from all the facilities.

I had paid for a luxury island resort and that was what I was getting. It was a keyless, moneyless society and you could leave all your doors and windows open (turned out to be useful later when you were stumbling in from a scuba/snorkel session) and charge everything to your room number (dangerous in the extreme). Noddy terns were everywhere, the trees were heavy with them, on the path in front of you was black with them, they stared in the window at you when you were having a pee and they didn't move when you poked them or nudged them with your foot. I got the impression that before the intervention of man, this had been a mass nesting place for the Noddy's and they were still somewhat resentful of our presence. The other prominent bird life was little Rail bird that skooted along the ground like a wader on Speed and would attempt to get in your room if you left your patio doors open. It appeared to have filled the rat/pigeon niche of the island. And the entire island was fully of raucous squeaks and cackles and clicks.

...I immediately went to the marine centre and tried to get myself on a dive trip (full) and snorkel trip (full) and eventually had to settle for simply being fitted for all my scuba/snorkel equipment and going for a trip in a glass bottomed boat around Heron Bommie.

Heron Bommie semi-submersible gave me a good preview of things to come. On the downside (as warned by Lonely Planet) despite claiming world class diving, a good deal of coral had got killed by silt from the new jetty. On the plus side, the island was surrounded by reef drop off full of lots of little nooks and crannies and some of them were lovely, teeming with life.

The tour lasted about an hour and was sufficiently motivating for me to immediately run back to my room, inject myself into my wetsuit gear (it was a very tight fit and the dive shop actually issued me with a special bit of old plastic bag to wrap around my foot and help get it on), and run to the beach.

I picked a lightweight spot right next to the bar/pool and was surprised to find that even in that unpromising spot there were large clams, parrot fish and sweetlips swimming about plus a reasonable amount of hard and soft coral. I managed to sneak a good hours worth of snorkelling in before dark and was nicely showered and clean again in time for dinner and a quick cocktail.

Dinner was ok - it's 'Perfectly sized portions so you could enjoy all three courses' were a bit on the tidgy size but the bottle of wine side order bulked things up and I was pleasantly tiddly by the end and wandered up to the top end of the island with a pleased grin on my face. The North beach was utterly empty and utterly dark, and I lay on the sand under a brilliantly clear sky, cursing again the fact that I didn't know any constelations apart from the big dipper.

What a strange place, by turns horrifyingly artificial and stunningly beautiful. The resort is, well, a resort with its pool and bar and complimentary shower caps - the closedness of the community is a bit stifling for me. You still get a sense of the island though too, which is what I was after.

Conked out v.early as usual. Big day tomorrow.