“Take ear plugs to sleep!” said Gabby. “The birds are DEAFENING!”

Sure, the noise goes on all night (and day) but it’s more like white noise and I sleep like a baby, waking refreshed at... 6.45am! Not a surprise after yesterday’s haul.

Think surfer crossed with park ranger and you have Maddey, our guide for this morning’s island walk. She has school girl looks yet a marine biology degree. She exudes boundless enthusiasm and extensive knowledge about her new island home and has an instantly likeable manner. We walk through the pisonia forest where David Attenborough filmed his Barrier Reef special. Many of the migratory 120,000 noddies are nesting there. There are shearwater burrows pockmarking the ground but they are out at sea during the day. (We hear their ghostly calls as they return each night after dark.) 

We spot turtle tracks in the sand - different for green or loggerheads. We see the nest of the sole sea eagle pair. (The island can only support one pair of these apex predators.) Next top bird is the silver gull. They look just like your routine fish-and-chip sea gull but no!.. Maddey describes them as a “highly evolved” variety. They will eat live noddy chicks - whole. One swooped and ripped her burrito out of her hand recently. Another pair is nesting under our cabin and yell incessantly at us should we sit anywhere near them.

This afternoon we head out on a snorkeling trip. It is low tide, so the perimeter of the island’s coral edge is exposed. Anchored about 100m further out, the group slowly floats and swims back in to where the island drops away into the sea. We find glorious walls of corals with every imaginable tropical fish (except Nemo!) Hilary - who has never snorkelled - is mesmerised. 

The trip lasts only 60 minutes unfortunately. After the burnt legs of the Maldives, I am the least elegantly dressed on the boat in t-shirt and ¾ pants but remain unburnt and could easily have stayed twice as long.

The wildlife theme continues with a turtle walk tonight. It’s led by two of the staff guides but we meet Bill along the beach... one of the volunteers. He has been coming to Heron for eighteen years during the summer turtle season to count, measure and tag them. He is bursting with knowledge and is fiercely protective of this endangered species. He yells at walkers coming along the beach to move down to the water line and turn off their torches. (Fortunately, turtles are deaf!) He takes us, commando style and six at a time, to check on progress in the labour ward. The group slowly dissipates but Hilary and I remain to shadow him. 

Over two hours in full moonlight, we see three green turtle ladies digging out their burrows - the first a ‘body pit’ to settle their enormous frames into and then a smaller egg hole. The first decides hers is inadequate tonight and turns seawards. Bill takes the chance to measure her shell... 1cm = 1kg body weight and this girl measures a (heavy) 106cm. He notes the two tag numbers in her flippers (and would apply one if needed.) She will likely return further along the beach later tonight.

Only threatening clouds and lightening send us home. I could have stayed all night.