Heinrich Holmes
- Ruby Holmes, 32, lives on a remote island with her partner Heinrich and two-year-old son Lukas
- Together the couple are caretakers to One Tree Island a remote research station on the southern end of the Great Barrier Reef
- The island hosts hundreds of scientists each year who study the marine life
Here Ruby shares her story in her own words.
‘What have you got there, bud?’ I called out to my son Lukas, two, as we explored the rockpools on our morning walk.
‘Starfish!’ he called back gleefully, holding the blue sea creature carefully in his little hands to show me and his dad, Heinrich, 35.
Every morning, we start our day with a walk along the beach.
Since October 2019, Heinrich and I have called One Tree Island, 100 kilometres off the coast of central Queensland, our home.
Together we are caretakers of the island, a remote research station on the southern end of the Great Barrier Reef that has been run by the University of Sydney for 50 years.
Our family of three are the only permanent residents, but every month we have visitors – scientists who travel to study the marine life and coral reef.
Sometimes we host up to 100 people at a time, while other months it’s quieter.
We host the researchers in two accommodation blocks.
Both have bunk-style bedrooms, common living areas, self-contained kitchens and dining areas.
Heinrich and I first met in 2015 through my housemate, Shelly, while I was studying marine biology in Townsville.
We started dating, and in 2018 we took time off from our jobs to travel the world, working on boats.
We moved sailboats between Australia, New Zealand and Fiji.
And in Tonga we worked for a swimming with whales business – Heinrich drove the boat, and I coordinated the operations.
Then in 2019 a friend sent us information about the job vacancy on One Tree Island.
‘This sounds incredible,’ said Heinrich, who’d worked on fishing boats on a remote island when he was just 16, and fell in love with the lifestyle.
‘We have to apply,’ I agreed.
We were thrilled when we got the call that we were successful.
That October we packed up our lives and moved onto the four-hectare oasis.
Exploring the island for the first time, I was blown away by its beauty.
Surrounded by crystal blue ocean, it felt like our own personal paradise.
I can’t believe I get to live here, I thought, filled with gratitude as I breathed in deeply, savouring the salty air.
I quickly learned that no two days are the same on the island.
A huge part of our job is to service the amenities, fixing broken equipment and coordinating everything for the researchers who come to stay.
We have to work around the weather and the tides. Getting out to the outside of the reef to pick up researchers has to be timed around the water line – or we risk getting stuck!
In 2021 Heinrich and I discovered we were expecting our first bub.
I was over the moon, but there was a catch – children weren’t allowed on the island. Contacting the university, I explained our situation, and they were so supportive. By the time I left to give birth in April 2022, we still weren’t sure if we were going to be able to come back.
Thankfully, the uni put a child policy in place and, when Lukas was three months old, we moved back to the island from Townsville, where I had been staying with Heinrich’s family.
Now, nearly three years on, island life is the only one Lukas has known.
With the mainland city of Gladstone around three hours away by boat, we’ve adjusted to the challenges.
Trips to the supermarket are more complicated than before. And being so isolated means we can’t just stop by the shops to pick up something for dinner.
Instead, we order food online every two weeks – including milk, cheese, meat and fresh vegies and fruit – which is delivered on a barge to nearby Heron Island, and we then pick it up in a boat.
Our rubbish is taken off the island once a fortnight.
All our electricity and hot water comes from solar power, so if we have a run of bad weather, it means cold showers for the whole family.
And when Lukas caught Scarlet fever, a bacterial infection, from a visitor to the island, we were so grateful the Royal Flying Doctor Service provides an on call doctor 24/7.
And we have a huge box of medicines – like our own personal pharmacy – safely kept under lock and key, so thankfully we had antibiotics on hand.
Despite being so far from the outside world, contacting our loved ones is easy via satellite phones and the internet.
Some days I do miss just catching up with friends and family in person – and almond croissants from my favourite bakery – but island life more than makes up for what we lack.
‘How lucky are we?’ Heinrich tells me with a smile most days.
‘The luckiest,’ I reply, cuddling him and Lukas.
We get to meet a lot of amazing researchers from all around the world, and while we work hard – there’s always something to fix, someone to ferry by boat on a trip, and admin or maintenance to do – the island really is our playground.
We won’t live here forever, so we are keen to make the most of it while we can.
I’m so grateful that I get to bring up my child in a simple way where he’s surrounded by nature. There’s no television, no tablets and no cars – just us and the ocean.
I hope living on the island teaches Lukas how precious our environment is and how important it is to care for the world.
He loves swimming every day and kayaking with Heinrich. We have a few years before he starts school, but until then we will continue living on island time.
Not many people can say they spend every day in paradise, but we can!
