‘Pippa, the boat is 10 minutes away!’ The voice of Antigone Meda – Tinkerbell of Thanda – drifts up to where I am sprawled on the massage bed, experiencing a powerful rubdown, the kind that leaves you feeling lighter, unburdened by the chronic baggage of deadlines, taxes, mortality.
On the boat are the rest of the crew who set off that morning to look for whale sharks, lured to this archipelago – glistening whorls of sand around tufted green dots – by the plankton-rich waters drifting from the mainland’s Rufiji River in flood.
It’s day two on Thanda Island, voted the World’s Leading Exclusive Private Island in the World Travel Awards every year since Dan Olofsson and his wife Christen launched it in 2016. We’re here to witness how the luxury has been ratcheted up even further, thanks to a new partnership with hospitality leader Jumeirah. And how.
A swift VIP steer through immigration and customs is pretty much de rigueur at this level, but the Thanda Group has purchased a private-use helicopter: a top-of-the-range twin-engine Eurocopter EC155 that catapulted eight of us, comfortably cocooned in an enormous glass bubble, directly from Dar es Salaam to the island in less than 40 minutes. Gareth Hazell, the island’s resident pilot, obliged with a few fly-bys as we tried to capture the surreal scene below: white sands surrounded by the ombré blues of the Shungimbili Island Marine Reserve; the Cape Codstyle villa peeking above bougainvillea-splashed gardens; curved rim-flow pool etched against textured green; an array of boats bobbing like dinky toys in a vastness of blue. With the closest inhabited island more than 20km away, Jumeirah Thanda Island is a playground set up just for you.
A kilometre in circumference, you can circumnavigate the five-hectare island on one of the new SUPs stacked in the boathouse, a treasure trove of aquatic toys housing snorkelling and diving gear, wakeboards and waterskis, big-game fishing tackle, kayaks, tubes and jet boards, with boathouse captain Maya de Villiers ready to teach or play. At high tide, you can swim and snorkel directly off the beach; when the sea recedes, a seascape of sandbars is revealed, bright red starfish and purple urchins in the shallows. Should weather or mood turn, the Eurocopter is ever on hand.
Which is how we found ourselves enjoying lunch at a table amid 18th-century ruins on Chole Island (a surprise set-up after a morning snorkelling in Mafia Marine National Park) with worldclass Jumeirah chef Kevin Roehrig presenting platters of lobster carpaccio with mango tomato salsa and yuzu passionfruit sauce; tuna tartare with avocado and ponzu dressing; and salads as pretty as they are refreshing. Sated, we set sail for Juani Island, where Kua Lagoon lies hidden in the mangroves. An aquamarine gem filled with pulsating upside-down jellyfish, it’s a magical experience, wild and untainted, as is heading back to Mafia by dhow, the flapping sails and slapping sea creating an ancient rhythmic lullaby, before Gareth airlifts us back to our heart-shaped home, evening bonfire waiting.
But as Antigone promised on arrival, there is no pressure to do anything. With two therapists on tap, my second morning segue to the massage bed was easily accommodated before joining the crew to snorkel the house reef with the island’s resident marine biologist, Rianne Laan.
Boarding the boat, we glimpse large flashes of silver: a shoal of juvenile blacktip reef sharks, testament to the success of the marine reserve the Olofssons established in 2007, protecting an impressive variety of species. Rianne has documented 338 types of fish, 34 biological coral genera and 105 invertebrate species. In addition to a resurgence of certain species (green turtles have revisited the island to nest) are innovative reef-restoration projects. The state of East Africa’s reefs are a wake-up call to anyone wondering about climate change, and guests interested in a hands-on conservation experience can actively participate with Rianne in creating these coral nurseries.
Maya cranks up the music and heads off in a new direction. By now we are used to the team’s theatrical approach to hospitality and, sure enough, a sandbar heaves into view with a makeshift kitchen on one end, a delicious seafood BBQ wafting its way to our table at the other – a by-now predictably decadent set-up. Solid timber chairs, white tablecloth, proper glassware, silver cutlery, Persian carpets. A flock of terns takes off in a swirling snow-like storm, swooping around us once before disappearing into the blue.
‘We want people to feel like this is a dream come true, something they never forget,’ says Antigone, who is so much more than Thanda’s general manager. An artist whose palette is experiences, she delights in creating elaborately themed scavenger hunts, stitching up fantasy costumes and making props, leaving clues like breadcrumbs to a trophy or plaque submerged in shallow waters – perfect mementoes for milestone birthdays. Thriving also on the challenge of offering high-end hospitality on a tiny, self-sufficient island, with its own desalination plant and solar-energy system. ‘Problems are just opportunities to try something new,’ Antigone says. ‘To reinvent the way you do things, sometimes for the better.’
Hoots of laughter amid the thwacking balls. ‘Ginbledon’, a drinking tennis game devised by hospitality manager Imani Mwakosya, is cementing friendships on the floodlit court. I’ve opted to sit out, toes curled in the sand, gazing into the evening’s ritual bonfire. Directly ahead, the new moon is rising, and tonight’s dinner is an Arabian fantasy, lanterns creating small pools of illumination.
Jumeirah Thanda is a place to consider your own spiritual reset with a level of hospitality I have seldom experienced in decades of research. But underneath the fun runs a deep current of purpose. In owner Dan Olofsson’s memoir Mina tre liv (My Three Lives), he writes about amassing knowledge, then wealth, before deciding on his 50th birthday to dedicate his ‘third life’ to philanthropy. Aside from conservation and community, his NPO Star for Life has influenced the lives of more than 500 000 school children across Tanzania, South Africa, Namibia and Sweden. As guests at Jumeirah Thanda, one is inadvertently doing something meaningful. Inspired, possibly, to do more.
