Sometimes, more is not better. That is the case as we travel further north up the Queensland coast. There’s more heat, more humidity, more things that want to harm, or kill you. Now, when we go to the beach the signs are less than encouraging, warning of strong currents, marine stingers and crocodiles. The only thing less inviting would be attending a party political rally. While it is not quite stinger season yet, it is close as temperatures are rise and the ocean is getting warmer. Beaches have “stinger net” areas for swimming, which might enclose 250 metres of a two kilometre long beach, so it’s not really like the beach at all – especially when the tide’s out, then it’s more like a big damp sand pit.

The small and invisible pests are the worst. Midges. The very word strikes fear into my heart. Where mosquitos are like attack helicopters and let you know they’re coming for you, midges are more your stealth bomber – and the real damage happens after they’ve gone, and you wake in the middle of the night ready to tear the itchy skin off your body. I am an expert in the range of insect repelling techniques and potions; even my moisturiser is insect repellent. In this instance I subscribe to the more is better philosophy.

We arrive in Airlie Beach, capital of the Whitsundays to meet with family for a week. My oldest brother, sister in law, five nieces with their three husbands, one boyfriend, and seven kids all travel in from New Zealand and Melbourne. There are moments of mayhem, especially when Scott hands out water pistols – and yes, it’s even worse when the kids get a turn.

The idea of cruising the Whitsundays has a dreamy appeal – gentle tropical breezes, white sandy beaches, snorkelling in clean, clear waters. That’s what the brochures sell and we are ready for it. The weather has different plans. For the entire week the wind doesn’t drop below 30knots (55 kph) making water activities more like water torture. Our full day charter, booked well in advance, goes ahead, and the 2.5 hour trip to the snorkelling spot sees one adult and one kid feeding the fishes. For a lot less money we could have taken the Cook Strait ferry in a gale force wind and had the same experience. But when we arrive at the designated bay, it is a bit more tranquil than the open sea and there’s a great deal of fun bombing off the top deck. You can’t do that on the Interislander.

We are at the southern end of the Great barrier Reef and here we find a mix of lovely, floaty soft and hard corals. The soft corals are beautiful, waving so gently in the current they seem to be breathing. Colourful fish dart about, hiding in the gaps and flitting back and forth. It’s very pretty, but the wind does make the water a bit choppy. I now know how much energy it takes to keep a kid afloat while you adjust their mask and try to convince them to keep their mouth closed on the snorkel. It’s a bit like being hugged by a drowning koala. The conditions mean no paddle boarding or kayaking as the skipper would be picking us up in Fiji, which in hindsight might be nice.  But by the time we all get home the worst is forgotten.

The next day the blokes go fishing and, surprise surprise, report rough conditions and tough fishing; a mediocre adventure mitigated by the consumption of a record numbers of beers. We cancel the last day’s snorkelling and beach trip in the interests of family unity, avoiding further trauma to children, and returning from holiday with the same number of people as left. 

The week ends as it begins, with Air New Zealand completely stuffing up various family bookings, requiring the repurchase of tickets, extra nights accommodation, and family groups split by ridiculous ticketing processes. Here in Australia, Qantas is the subject of a Senate Enquiry into flight prices and consumer rights following a tidal wave of marketing disasters. It doesn’t help that Alan Joyce, the CEO of 15 years, left early with a $24 million in bonuses and share options. Perhaps Air NZ will take note and proactively sort itself out. Oh how I laugh to think that might happen.