Heron Island is a tiny, beautiful “drop in the ocean” on Australia’s Great Barrier Reef. It’s special, because Heron is a coral cay: it’s actually part of the reef itself. For divers and snorkelers, that’s as good as it gets, because almost all the other resorts on the Barrier Reef entail a boat trip if you want to dive or snorkel the reef.
But on Heron, you’re already there. In fact, you’re standing in it: just walk into the water, and you’ll find endless varieties of coral, dazzling tropical fish, turtles, stingrays, adorable bright blue starfish, and small friendly sharks.
In other words, Heron is all about the Reef. For decades, it offered cheap dormitories for young divers on a budget, moderately priced motel-type rooms, and a few posher villas for honeymooners. The meals were mostly buffet-style, and the food was good, fresh and generous. The pleasant bar had a lovely terrace with beautiful sea views. The only evening activities were the occasional trivia night, and reef movies (known as “reefies”): gorgeous documentaries about the local marine life.
Over the years, the island changed hands several times. And after one of these changes, someone had the brilliant idea of promoting Heron as a 5-star resort. So they added a spa. They upgraded the accommodation, and deleted the cheapest options. The dinner menu went a la carte, and was suddenly littered with kiwi fruit and au jus and coulis. There have probably been worse ideas in the history of the world (invading Iraq; investing with Bernie Madoff) but this one was right up there. Because a 5-star establishment has to do more than just promise certain standards: it has to deliver on those standards, and it has to deliver consistently. Remember, we’re talking about a tiny island. So…
•Everything — everything — from beer to bog rolls, has to be pre-ordered and brought in daily by boat.
•The water comes from a de-salination plant.
•We’re in the tropics. Things rot, rust, deteriorate, break down, and need constant maintance. (And there are lots of bugs.)
•The island is a nature reserve, teeming with protected bird life — which means practically everything is covered with bird droppings.
•Staff on these islands are young, and they’re transient. The average stay is around three months. Most are friendly and helpful; a few aren’t. But the only “professionals” are the dive instructors and the cooks. The rest, however well trained, will inevitably be well-meaning amateurs.
All of this means that even if head office has 5-star ambitions, the folks on the ground simply won’t be able to deliver. And it won’t be their fault: if the swimming pool starts to leak, it can’t be used while it’s being repaired. If the weather turns ugly, the dive boats can’t go out that day. If the desalination plant breaks down, guests won’t have running water until it’s fixed.
All these things have happened in the past, and they’ll happen again. And, within reason, guests can be remarkably understanding. They’re there to swim, dive, snorkel, walk, bird-watch, enjoy the reef, unwind, and sip a cold drink on the terrace as the sun sets over the ocean. Most of them realise that nature is unpredictable, that shit happens, and that the resort is doing the best it can under the circumstances…even if that involves roughing it a bit.
But not if they’ve been promised a 5-star experience. That creates a whole different set of expectations. Fail to meet some of them, even occasionally, and you’ve failed utterly.
We discovered that the island had awarded itself several new stars when we arrived there for our seventh visit a few years ago. As we often do, we brought overseas friends with us. Over the next few days we were able to observe the slightly shaky delivery of the resort’s new, glamorous identity. Finally, one morning our well-travelled and cosmopolitan lady friend inquired gently when the cleaning staff might be expected to remove the dead cockroach which had been on the floor of their room for three days.
Memo to management: 5 stars require a lot more than raspberry vinaigrette and hot-stone massage. The folks in marketing have a term — “core competencies” — which basically means: stick to what you do best, and do it well.
So I’m happy to report that within a few years the island quietly dropped its “reach for the stars” obsession. Maybe it was all too hard; maybe wiser heads prevailed; maybe the ownership had changed yet again. Whatever the reason, these days the island is what it always should have been: a comfortable, pleasant place to stay while you experience the best the Reef has to offer.
Pretty much everything — the food, the housekeeping, the staff — are perfectly adequate. Some things have even improved: good coffee, and some remarkably good live music in the bar. And, of course, the sunset from the terrace is still spectacular.
(Let me add here that there are some genuine 5-star resorts in remote tropical locations. It can be done, with highly trained staff, and lots and lots of money. They mostly offer very little to do except relax in reliably luxurious surroundings, and for the privilege you could pay $1500 a night…which is perfectly reasonable, given the degree of difficulty.)