With the blood of sea-phobic ancestors in his veins, David Naylor boarded the Sun Princess a certified landlubber. But his oceanic aversion would be no match for the history, beauty and luxury that awaited him

I came out on deck around 5am while it was still dark. As we glided deep into York Sound, the smell of land – earth, rocks, vegetation – hung damp and pungent in the warm tropical air.

I could make out the dark shapes of islands, cliffs and mountains. The relief I felt surprised me.

We had sailed on smooth seas under a hot sun since leaving Darwin. In retrospect it had been pleasant enough, but my diary entry tells another story...

April 29. The ocean surrounds us like a prison wall, and I wonder if we carry the nightmares of our ancestors in our genes. Could the hell-ship voyages of my various great-great-grandparents, fleeing the old world for a new life here, still linger in my own memory?

There was no comparison between those wind-tossed barques and the beautiful Sun Princess, the ship that had transported us in great luxury across Joseph Bonaparte Gulf into York Sound. But after 30 hours at sea, seeing only sea, I was thrilled by the sight and smell of ancient unspoiled landscapes lying still, quiet and probably uninhabited.

It was Wednesday, April 30, and the Sun Princess was making history as the first big cruise ship to sail deep into the Kimberley and position itself for sunrise in Prince Frederick Harbour.

Smaller tourist boats regularly explore this region, but even the largest ones only carry around 120 passengers.

This was the first time so many people – 3000 passengers and crew – had entered these waters aboard a single ship.

By the time I walked from stern to bow that morning, the Sun Princess had anchored and the eastern sky was starting to lighten with a faint crimson glow above Manning Peak.

Only a handful of people had gathered along the railings to watch, but their number grew to hundreds over the next hour. They came to see the sunrise, but by then, the most spectacular show was over. That’s why I was among a privileged few to see how the pre-dawn light transformed everything around us, turning dark water to translucent pink-hued blue, shaping little islands and cliff faces from shadows to rocky rusted gold.

By the time the sun’s tip flared over the lip of the world, the subtle colourings had already been replaced by the ordinary white light of day.

The Sun Princess stayed at anchor for a few hours while the ship photographer buzzed around in a tender (lifeboat) snapping and filming what was clearly an amazing sight. He and a few crew were probably the only humans to see the big white man-made beauty from the outside as it challenged the natural landscape for dominance of Prince Frederick Harbour.

Then the Sun Princess pulled up anchor and headed back out to sea, skirting the edge of York Sound. For several hours it sailed close to the shoreline, and everywhere I went that morning – at breakfast, in the gym, by the pool, in our cabin – the Kimberley coast was there displaying its natural treasures free of human interference.

There were no jet skis, speedboats, sailboards or sunbathers on the beaches. No helicopters or hang gliders in the sky. No resorts on the islands. Nothing but the wilderness exactly as the early explorers to this region would have encountered it nearly 200 years ago.

We had lunch that day in the Regency Dining Room, to see how the fine dining experience we had already enjoyed in the evenings translated into the midday meal. Our well-fed stomachs approved, and when we emerged into the sunlight, the Kimberley was a fading grey haze on the horizon. But it remained vivid in my mind, and as the ship headed down the coast of Western Australia, I took my Kimberley with me.

There were other special moments not on the itinerary. Sunsets over the ocean. Cocktails under the stars. Watching wind-whipped waves crash against the distant cliff-edged coast. Listening to the Last Post as we passed near where 645 Australians and 73 Germans died in a sea battle between HMAS Sydney and the German raider Kormoran, on November 19, 1941.

May 1. Just two days after feeling like an inmate aboard a luxury prison ship, I am being lulled into the joy of cruising. I realise now it is not just about eating, drinking and lazing on the decks of a five-star hotel afloat, but also a personal journey of discovery.

The sheer indulgence of cruise living was enough for many passengers – the abundance and variety of fine dining and quality wines, the live shows in the art deco Princess Theatre, the pools and spas and sun-warmed deck chairs, high teas on the high seas, massage and beauty treatments in the Lotus Spa, and cocktail hour at the various bars accompanied by the superb music of the Black Pearl Strings and other performers. You’d have to be mad or dead not to enjoy it.

Our media contingent had joined the ship in Darwin, but nearly everyone else had boarded in Melbourne, Sydney or Brisbane, with stops in Townsville, Yorkey’s Knob and Cooktown.

I noticed a good mix of ages, including children and some families represented by three generations. But the largest group were what I classified as ‘silver seafarers’, the grey nomads of the sea, discovering their country from the outside in. The Sun Princess cruises around Australia (and across the top from Melbourne to Fremantle) are especially popular with this group.

While they clearly enjoyed their indulgent days at sea, the silver seafarers’ enthusiasm for shore excursions was obvious in their lively chatter and smiles as they disembarked in Broome, and again in Exmouth and Geraldton.

I enjoyed our brief packaged tours in these exotic and isolated towns, regarding them as a sampling for a less rushed return trip in the future. Broome would need at least a week, and on my next journey to Exmouth I am determined to swim with the whale sharks, harmless giants of the shallows who feed mainly on plankton.

In Geraldton, we decided on a trip out of town to see Prince Leonard of Hutt River Province, self-styled monarch of his own breakaway principality. The main attractions of Geraldton will have to wait for another day.

By the time we pulled into Fremantle, the Sun Princess was already getting ready for its next cruise – this time to Asia. And I was writing my last travel diary entry.

May 8: The prison walls have disappeared. I am a cruise convert, but my next ship must be as grand and luxurious as the Sun Princess. The seafaring nightmares in my DNA will be wiped and the genes I pass on to my children will be laced with pleasant memories of lazy days on calm seas under a warm sun. And a gold rust sunrise over the Kimberley coast.

Open Road July/August 2008