This is PNG’s “brochure destination” – you know the one with endless blue sky, gleaming white sand, palm-fringed beaches and turquoise seas – a tropical island made to order, with colours enhanced by the wonders of photo editing.  This relies very much on good weather, so I tried not to picture it as too idyllic, knowing that chances were we’d have dull skies and grey seas.  But the morning was perfect – once again we have been lucky with the weather.

We had organised a guided walking tour to learn more about the islands; we packed bathers and towels in the hope of a swim afterwards.  By 10am we were stepping on to lovely firm sand lapped by beautiful clear water.  Conflict Island is a privately owned resort, and is well set up for cruise ship passengers.  It has some basic accommodation for the odd diver who manages to get themselves here.  For us, there were places to sit in the shade, toilets, a few small shops, and shelves where we could safely leave our belongings whilst on the walk.

Our local guide, Manu, led us across the island (a 5 minute walk – it’s not very big) to the ocean side, where we could see coral reefs close to shore.  This was the brochure!  The sea was impossibly blue, there were plenty of palm trees, and best of all, most people were on the opposite side of the island, so it was much quieter.  Manu talked about history, ecology and geography as we walked, stopping often to take photos and gaze at the gorgeous scenery.  He told us that the islands are positioned where three seas meet – The Coral, the Bismarck, and the Solomon Seas.  We visited the airstrip and learned more about the battles that took place in PNG in WW2, before finishing our walk at the garden, where fruits and vegetables are grown.  Plates of juicy fresh fruit were prepared for us, along with coconuts which we could drink from, then pull apart the flesh to taste.  Without a machete, separating coconut meat from the husk is hard work!

After the tour we farewelled Manu, and wandered back on our own to the ocean beach.  We found a quiet patch of sand in the shade, spread out our towel, and pretended we were on Survivor as we broke apart our coconut.  Ian went off to hunt for an immunity idol, while I planned strategy (or maybe I was napping). I would not last 45 days living on coconuts …

Before long we were taking a welcome dip.  The water was languidly warm, and there was quite an undertow, so we found ourselves being gently tugged outwards, then pushed back towards shore with each incoming wave.  Small pieces of coral and floating seaweed washed around us, and our feet were nicely exfoliated.

Time drifted by as we beachcombed, paddled and swam, and pondered how to remove all the fine sand from ourselves.  Eventually the tide rose.  It was time to take the tender boat back to the ship, and say goodbye to our little piece of paradise – and to Papua New Guinea.

Today we also rubbed shoulders twice with Captain Ivan – he was on board our tender boat going across, then he was seated at the table next to ours at dinner.  I guess sailing the ship is only a part of his responsibilities.  Ian offered to go and “drive the ship” whilst he was eating but apparently there is another captain (or maybe two?) on board for that.

As we headed south on our two-day return to Brisbane, the wind picked up.  There is a small swell, and we can feel the ship’s movement.  There is a scale by which to measure the “motion of the ocean” – the louder your clothes hangers clang in the wardrobe, the rougher the seas.  We could hear the occasional gentle tinkle; certainly nowhere near Drake Passage proportions.