Bali Hai: Sunshine and Shadows

 We owe it all to Cliff and Zoe. 

It’s a great story that truly shows how some people go out of their way to help others.

I first knew Matt Miller from Air NZ—he was senior to me, and we flew together many times in my early days with the airline. 

After I left Air NZ, I lost touch with everyone. That was, until one day, Cliff and Zoe came to visit us. As always, Cliff, with his dry wit, said, “I have an offer you can’t refuse.” I laughed and thought, where have I heard that before? 

Oh, yes—when he offered me that Italian restaurant in Weyba Rd, Noosaville. 

What a lemon that was!

Anyway, I listened. 

The deal was this: Matt Miller had purchased the management rights to Bali Hai, along with the apartment. He and his wife had run the place for nearly a year when their daughter fell seriously ill in New Zealand. They wanted to be with her. 

At the time, Cliff and Zoe still owned Scoffers Inn, so they proposed a straight swap with Matt and his wife—giving them Scoffers Inn in exchange for Bali Hai—so they could free themselves to be with their daughter. And that’s precisely what happened.

Then, knowing I was at a loose end, Cliff offered Bali Hai to me. 

The arrangement was simple: we would move in, run the place, build credibility, and then try to secure financing to buy it outright from Cliff and Zoe.

And that’s precisely what we did. Within a year, it was officially ours—mortgaged, of course—but none of it would have been possible without the generosity of Cliff and Zoe.

At the time, it felt like winning the lottery to have a two-bedroom apartment and a business in Noosa. 

Noosa Heads, the final resort on the Sunshine Coast where the river meets the ocean, has beautiful beaches and, when the winds are just right, great surfing conditions. 

On the north shore, ferries provide access for four-wheel drives to Fraser Island, the largest sand island in the Southern Hemisphere. The area is also surrounded by national parks with scenic walkways leading to other stunning beaches like Alexandria Bay—a well-known nudist beach—and Sunshine Beach.

During my time there, I did most of my jogging and training through the national parks. I was one of the first runners to participate in the inaugural Noosa marathon—back then, there were only eight of us!

Being on-site managers during holiday periods was intense. We greeted guests, ensured they were comfortable during their stay, and cleaned up after they left, ready for the next holidaymakers. 

In those early days, there were defined seasons, with Christmas and Easter being the busiest times. In the winter, many of the apartment owners from the southern states would come to enjoy the warmer Queensland weather. This seasonal flow gave us a bit of respite, as the owners took care of their units. 

Our payment structure as on-site managers included a monthly wage from the body corporate, a percentage of the holiday lets, and cleaning fees charged to the owners after each rental. 

There were 12 apartments in total—six in each tower. We lived in one, and the property developer lived in the penthouse of the left tower, leaving 10 apartments available for holiday rentals.  After a while, I realised it was too much for Sheila to handle all the cleaning on her own. I managed to convince Anna, Cliff, and Zoe’s daughter, to work alongside her. 

It was challenging, though—Sheila wouldn't speak to the guests or even answer the phone if I was busy. I couldn't dedicate all my time to cleaning, as I had responsibilities in the office, handling the business side of the management rights. 

We were audited two to three times a year, so everything had to be in order. It was a lot to manage, but we found a way to make it work.

Around this time, I also became friends with the local bank manager from Metway Bank. He was a keen mountain biker, and we often trained together. Naturally, we both quizzed each other about our professions. 

After several weeks of conversations and negotiations, he became the key to helping me secure finance. At last, Bali Hai was officially ours—well, partly. The bank had a big say in it, but Cliff and Zoe got their money, and we were all happy. 

Or so I thought…It was a good life. As I mentioned before, there were definite seasons—times when we were incredibly busy, followed by periods when Noosa became, very, quiet. The Sunshine Coast Airport hadn’t been built yet, so the only way to reach Noosa was by road. The Bruce Highway was the main route, and at the time, the Sunshine Coast Motorway was still under construction.

The body corporate wage, combined with the income we made during the busy periods, provided a comfortable living, and the lifestyle was very pleasant. 

Cliff and Zoe had built a new home just a few blocks away, and we often enjoyed great coffee mornings together.

Cliff and I also had a regular tradition—we would go out to do the lotto together.

Over time, we became a familiar pair at the local newsagent. 

With our shared sense of humor, we always managed to brighten the day of the shop owner, who would frequently say that seeing us come in made his day.

As time went on, Sheila seemed to withdraw more into herself. It became increasingly difficult for me to say the right thing or to encourage her to go out and enjoy the company of others beyond just the two of us. 

No matter how much I tried, I couldn't spark her interest in taking a holiday. 

Perhaps the workload was too much for her, or maybe there was something else weighing on her that I didn’t fully understand.We lived in a beautiful apartment with stunning views across Laguna Bay and were earning a fair living. 

I made sure we attended Sunday Mass and feast days, but despite all this, Sheila seemed unhappy and reluctant to socialise. 

Some weekends were particularly busy, especially on the bright, sunny winter days when we had a full house. The steady flow of guests was great for business, helping to keep the cash flow healthy. Occasionally, visitors would ask, “Are you on the market to sell?” My usual response was a firm “No.” But some people wouldn’t take that for an answer. 

They would urge me to think about it, name a price, and let them know—often following up persistently.

This happened so many times that, eventually, I knew there would come a moment when it caught me at a low point—when I was feeling worn down, or perhaps when that familiar shadow of doubt, the ‘black dog,’ was lurking. 

And sure enough, one day, in a moment of frustration or uncertainty, I threw out a ridiculous price… and to my surprise, it was accepted.

The years at Bali Hai were filled with both intensity and challenge, but in the middle of it all, life offered a lighter thread — a story that didn’t quite belong in the main flow, yet still shaped those days. I’ve set it apart here, as a small interlude, almost like finding an unexpected photograph slipped between the pages of an album