full pdf article

We use cookies to improve site performance and enhance your user experience. If you’d like to disable cookies on this device, please see our cookie management
page.
If you close this message or continue to use the site, you consent to our use of cookies on this device in accordance with our cookie policy, unless you disable them.
how to spend it
Hiring your own private island
New and restored private island resorts from Indonesia to the
Inner Hebrides are seeking to recalibrate the castaway experience
to balance luxury with sustainability. Maria Shollenbarger reports
A beach villa lounge on Petit St Vincent
JANUARY 08 2016
MARIA SHOLLENBARGER
The Riau Archipelago is a cluster of islands scattered south of Singapore, some 40 miles to the
east of Sumatra. Several are of significant size – from 50sq miles up to larger than 900sq miles
– encircled by far smaller islets, like little viridescent satellites, many measuring no more than a
kilometre across at their widest points. The waters here aren’t quite as crystalline as around
those further to the east in Indonesia, to which this archipelago belongs – Komodo and Rinca,
or Banda Neira, or the dazzling emerald constellation that is Raja Ampat. There are fewer
beautiful coral reefs, too, and perhaps less of the burnish of exotica that attends a visit to the
farther-flung islands of a country that’s made up of roughly 17,000 of them. But still, they are
()
tropical islands, some of them entirely deserted, many of them very beautiful, with thickets of
jungle ringed in marbled sand and buffeted by trade breezes, proffering the twin promises of
solitude and unfettered horizons.
“It’s funny, when people visit Nikoi the first time, they often ask if they can walk around the
island. I say, ‘Of course you can. It’s an island’.” I’m speaking to Andrew Dixon, a fiftysomething
Australian former banker who was transferred to Singapore from Sydney in the late 1990s, and
who still spends much of his time there, though he left the world of finance years ago. Delighted
with the city’s proximity to equatorial nature, he would take his young children exploring in the
reef islands off the east coast of Bintan, one of the Riau Archipelago’s largest bodies, reached via
a 50-minute ferry ride from Changi Terminal. One of those little islets, Pulau Nikoi, particularly
captured his imagination; he and four friends decided to buy it. Nikoi is about 15 hectares, with
a hill at its centre, bordered on roughly half its circumference by a beach of buttercreamcoloured sand and on the other half by a stony bluff, patrolled lazily at low tide by harmless
monitor lizards. The intention was initially, and for several years after its acquisition, to make a
private playground of Nikoi – a weekend-castaway foil to the long hours and hustle of the city.
Somewhere along the way, though, the idea to erect a resort was floated. Nikoi Island, with 15
villas of varying sizes, constructed entirely from sustainably sourced driftwood, opened in 2007.
It’s in no way conventionally five-star; it is, rather, a masterclass in elemental luxury created by
people who understand its essential components: space, privacy and aesthetically pleasing raw
materials. For the past four to five years, Dixon estimates it has been operating at over 90 per
cent occupancy year-round.
The reason we’re talking is because Dixon is deep into the construction of a second escape, on an
even smaller island 12 nautical miles (just under 14 miles) to the south of Nikoi. Cempedak,
which will open in the autumn, will, like Nikoi, have villas nestled into dense equatorial forest,
facing clear seas, though these villas will be constructed entirely of sustainably harvested
bamboo – massive trunks of it, 20cm in diameter and 12m long (“It took a month just to get one
bargeload in from Java.” he says. “There’s quite a lot of it growing on Sumatra, but no
sustainable supply chain; we had to create our own.”) As at Nikoi, there will be no televisions or
telephones (though the villas – as with Nikoi’s – will be vast two-storey structures, with
ingenious airflow-encouraging design standing in for air conditioning); and as at Nikoi,
Cempedak’s interior will accommodate a grass tennis court (they are the only ones on any
islands in Southeast Asia, as far as Dixon knows). Unlike at Nikoi, however – which, when it is
not bought out in exclusivity, is hugely popular with well-to-do expat families – Cempedak will
not accept under-16s.
That exclusivity is the other reason I’m talking to Dixon today. Though Nikoi, with its villas of
various sizes and sand-floored dining hall, is technically a resort (albeit a very small, intimate
one), it gets taken over in entirety with surprising regularity. This obviously isn’t surprising to
Dixon, who first sized Nikoi up for that very purpose, and he expects Cempedak will enjoy a
similar level of buyouts: “It’s the guaranteed exclusivity, for sure; people are willing to pay for
that. But also the guaranteed remove. We’re not far from Singapore at all; but something about
the arrival process” – Nikoi and Cempedak are reached only by speedboat from Bintan, on
which Dixon owns a private lounge and jetty – “and the idea of pitching up on sand, on a piece
of land you can get the measure of just by looking at, and have to yourself for the weekend, is an
experience on a very appealing human scale.”
Islands are, by their very geographical nature, the manifestation of exclusivity, places where you
can see – and can often circumnavigate on foot – everything that’s yours to play with. A small,
deserted island (deserted but for you, your kin or your friends, and a staff to serve you, that is)
goes a considerable way towards first-world fulfilment of an age-old adventurers’ fantasy: that
of being master of one’s own domain – playing the role of the intrepid explorer for a week, or a
weekend, in an era of precious few remaining terrestrial frontiers. Dixon is, of course, hardly the
first to have capitalised on their appeal: a decade before he discovered Nikoi, Richard Branson
had already purchased and cultivated his BVIs retreat, Necker Island. A few hundred miles to
the south, in the Grenadines, the American Hazen Richardson II had by the mid-1960s
discovered and was developing what was to become one of the world’s best-known and most
exclusive islands: Petit St Vincent, now co-owned by one-time private equity manager Philip
Stephenson. Dixon is also not the only one operating in western Indonesia: Pulau Joyo, a tiny
outcropping with just six very chic thatched villas and a full staff of chefs, butlers and massage
therapists, opened in 2011; it lies a few miles distant from Cempedak, and is another favourite
for exclusive takeovers. Further east in Indonesia, independent developers and hotel companies
are circling the small islands around Flores (not too far from where Amanwana, Aman resorts’
tented camp on Moyo Island, opened just over 20 years ago). French Polynesia and Fiji
sequester several of their own prime examples; among them are Dolphin Island, the stunning
private island that belongs to Alex van Heeren, owner of the ultra-luxurious Huka Retreats,
which accommodates a maximum of eight guests; and Motu Tane, the tiny reef island off Bora
Bora belonging to François Nars, who commissioned Christian Liaigre to design the interiors of
the bungalows and main teak villa (when Nars is not in residence, it rents for from $36,000 a
day).
In the Mediterranean, such islands are often enhanced by a sense of historical context, or
leverage a new perspective on a perhaps too-familiar place. Exclusive villas specialist Cédric
Reversade, who with partner Paul Maxime Koskas not long ago added an idyllic Cycladic islet to
their portfolio, notes the ease with which their A-list celebrity and ultra-high-net-worth clients
who take it for a week or two can tap into all the effortless glamour of the classic Greek Aegean
holiday without compromising on privacy. “Pegasus is a tiny island; just the house and
centennial olives, pistachio trees, pines and figs, thyme and lavender everywhere. And the house
itself is quite understated – one storey, five bedrooms, with its own vegetable and herb garden.
But it harks back to that Niarchos-Onassis age of the Greek islands, of cruising all summer and
popping into simple settings like this.” Pegasus offers access to, say, a cracking seafood lunch at
nearby Evia, but also the possibility for zero press intrusion and minimal security issues. (One
high-profile client has booked it for a yoga retreat for this summer, complete with fly-in
Ayurvedic doctor and chef.) Li Galli, a cluster of three rocky outcroppings about a mile and a half off the Amalfi Coast, has
been a private redoubt for centuries, but it was as home to Rudolph Nureyev in the late 1980s
that it achieved worldwide renown. A wealthy local bought Li Galli upon Nureyev’s death in
1993; three years ago, he quietly began letting the main island, Gallo Lungo, whose watchtower
dates back to the 1700s and whose two villas were designed in the 1920s – with the input, it is
said, of Le Corbusier – during the summer season. (Net-a-Porter founder Natalie Massenet
reportedly staged part of her 50th birthday celebrations here last summer). Beyond the
undeniable beauty of the restoration, and the obvious exclusivity, the currency is in its singular
location: its lucky few guests gaze onto the Fontanelle hills and the cupola in Positano from Li
Galli’s multiple terraces or balconies – while everyone else, including some very privileged
people, must content themselves with admiring the postcard-famous view of Li Galli from
Positano (which is as close as most will ever get to them).
The geographic and cultural disparities of these islands notwithstanding, the common ground
quite a few share is a luxury of experience, rather than opulence for its own sake. Those being
developed from pristine wilderness, in particular, confront a bigger issue pervading the business
of travel: namely, the point at which the conventional trappings of luxury and the exigencies of
sustainability come into conflict; and emphasising one requires, perforce, the diminution of the
other. In Dixon’s case, a recent surfing trip to the Maldives – to many, the apotheosis of the
island holiday – and exposure to its increasingly gilded resort environs left him more resolute
than ever in his decision to hew Cempedak’s look and feel entirely to an idea of “indulgence”
that is vernacular and contextual. In his purist’s view, the island fantasy is premised on the
rawness of the castaway paradigm; ergo, the luxury stays raw. That this is by its nature more
easily made sustainable is a nice fillip, but his is predominantly an aesthetic and experiential
choice – one, he believes, that truly worldly travellers increasingly support.
Kevin Record is of the same mind. His Ibo Island Lodge, spread over three colonial mansions in
Mozambique’s Quirimbas Archipelago, remains that country’s benchmark for a luxury heritage
experience; an exercise in landmark architectural preservation, community engagement and
sustainable tourism. Record, like Dixon, is currently putting the final touches on a second
project in the Quirimbas: 21-hectare Mogundula, which opens at the end of this year. Unlike Ibo
island, with its colonial stone town and native makuti town, Mogundula is uninhabited. The five
new-build villas – constructed with coral stone, mangrove trunks and palm wood, with indooroutdoor baths, plunge pools and direct sea access just off their decks – will vary in size and
spread along the west coast of the island, not far from a 70m mangrove lake. A spa therapist and
Ibo-trained chef will comprise part of the team, but so will expert local guides to lead tag-andrelease expeditions beyond the large reef off Mogundula’s east beach and excursions to the two
local communities that are within a 10-minute boat ride. “Of course, we’re working with solar
[power] and new-tech desalination for water, and sustainable materials. But we’re not going
overboard on size and spec.” The luxury idea on Mogundula, he says – what he wants to capture
and hold the imagination of his guests – is the manifest privacy and remoteness of the place.
A northern hemisphere correlate to such efforts lies, somewhat improbably, in the Inner
Hebrides, just off the west coast of Scotland. Eilean Shona, which measures a modest 2.5 x 1.5
miles, was nothing more than a drive-by spotting when Vanessa Branson and her then husband,
Robert Devereux, first saw it in 1995, en route to a regular holiday on Mull; they purchased it
immediately. Two decades and a significant investment on, Branson is more committed than
ever to preserving what she found here: the entire island has just emerged from an extensive
restoration and rehabilitation project (Shona is, in fact, a not-for-profit nature reserve), which
saw its various lodges and cottages refurbished, hardwoods replanted and rare and vulnerable
sea-eagle nesting habitats identified and protected.
The island’s long-decrepit schoolhouse, set on Shona’s North Channel coast, has been
completely redesigned as a cosseting two-bedroom cottage, in which creature comforts (roll-top
baths, Moroccan Beni Ourain rugs sourced by Branson herself) coexist with concessions to the
environment (gas lanterns, wood-burning stoves). The main house has 11 bedrooms, multiple
lounges, and a dining room whimsically affrescoed by the Glaswegian artist Fred Pollock. The
old village hall now serves as a games room, with table tennis table and internet.
Walking paths criss-cross the island, and its circumference takes a good five hours to hike. Shoe
Bay is a blue lagoon at high tide, and a wide sand-pool beach at low tide. There are cooks and
staff to hand to accommodate most needs (though not compulsory, should guests prefer to look
after themselves; a shopping list provided in advance will see larders stocked with local oysters
and fish and organic produce). The whole Branson clan still gathers here once a year, though
Branson herself reckons nothing could be so romantic as for a single couple to take the whole
island, cosying up in the schoolhouse. (She has form with highly romantic holiday settings,
having created Riad El Fenn, still considered one of Marrakech’s most stylish and atmospheric
hotels.)
In the meantime, Eilean Shona has just piloted a reactivated annual art retreat concept, hosting
a group of some 20 artists, writers, philosophers, and others – “all talking, as it turns out, about
the concept of ‘island-ness’,” Branson writes to me happily in an email, two weeks after our
meeting in Marrakech. “Islands must be in the air.”
Bellini Travel, 020-7602 7602; www.bellinitravel.com. Cempedak, +62811-700 8040;
www.cempedak.com, prices as Nikoi. Dolphin Island, +647-378 5791; www.dolphinislandfiji.com, about
£895 per person full board. Eilean Shona, 01967-431 249; www.eileanshona.com; main house from
£8,000 per week, schoolhouse from £1,250 a week, £15,000 per week for whole island. Ibo Island
Lodge, +2721-785 2657; www.iboisland.com, from about £210 full board. ITC Luxury Travel, 01244355 527; www.itcluxurytravel.co.uk. Li Galli, price on request, see Bellini Travel. Mogundula,
www.iboisisland.com, price on request. Motu Tane, from $36,000 per day, see Vladi Private Islands.
Necker Island, 020-8600 0430; www.neckerisland.virgin.com, room only, from $29,960 per week,
whole island from $78,000 per night for up to 34 adults. Nikoi Island, +62811-700 8040;
www.nikoi.com, from about £170 room only, from about £8,460 per weekend. Pegasus Estate, 0207788 7815; www.uniquepropertiesandevents.com, from €26,000 per week. Petit St Vincent, cottage
from £3,499 per person full board, including flights and transfers; see ITC Luxury Travel. Pulau Joyo,
+62812-700 6756; www.pulau-joyo.com, whole island from about £1,900 per person per night for a
minimum of 12 adults for two nights; villa from about £165 per person per night for a minimum of two
adults for two nights. Vladi Private Islands, +4940-338 989; www.vladi-private-islands.de.
Related content
Tasmania’s new
openings
Two extraordinary escapes
are coming to the fore in offthe-beaten-track corners of
Tasmania. Could they be
Australia’s best-kept secrets,
asks Jack Dyson
Sailing in Croatia
The mystery islets hidden
within the Adriatic’s
archipelagos are now ripe for
discovery – aboard new
Croatia-based yachts, says
Julian Allason
A new infinity pool at
One&Only’s Ocean
Club in the Bahamas
The resort’s horizons have
expanded, but its genteel
vintage vibe remains intact