Long before the threat of global warming and diminishing rainforests crept into our collective consciousness, two resorts on opposite sides of the world were embracing responsible eco-policies that protect and highlight their natural assets and provide benefits to their local communities.

Under African Skies
‘‘Look there, to the left,” my ranger guide, Lyson, whispered. I looked. I saw nothing.

“Over there.” Again, I looked. Again, I saw nothing. Then the bush moved and out trudged a tremendous bull elephant; long, curved tusks and large ears flapping. While I stared in awe at my first great safari sighting, another elephant emerged, and another and another — a herd of 18 bulls, cows and calves munching their way to the 300 pounds of vegetation a grown elephant consumes each day.

I had dreamed for years of seeing elephants in the wild, roaming free in their natural land. And that day in the early dawn, they were right beside our open Land Rover, so close I could hear the crunch of the leaves and twigs as they ate.

“Bull elephants can charge suddenly,” Lyson warned, but I was far too thrilled to care.

I was at Ngala, the 36,000-acre private game reserve along the western border of Kruger National Park in South Africa. It is one of the richest wildlife regions on the continent, a wilderness of bush savanna filigreed by streams and the seasonal Timbavati River, by valleys and hillocks, by occasional bursts of lush vegetation, by mopane, marula and leadwood trees — thousands upon thousands of acres of wilderness without one streetlight, one street sign, one speck of asphalt.

Ngala, which means lion in the Shangaan language, is also one of the world’s most conservation-conscious game reserves. Sixteen years ago, long before “green” became everybody’s color of choice and “conservation” became a buzzword, Ngala signed a partnership agreement with World Wildlife Fund-South Africa, South African National Parks and the Conservation Corporation of Africa. As a member of CC Africa, the leading ecotourism company on the continent, Ngala sends a percentage of its annual profits to the National Parks Trust and makes significant contributions to local communities and conservation development efforts.

Most of Ngala’s 100-plus employees are Shagaan. The rest includes members of other area tribes including the Swazi and Sotho. That commitment to employing local workers is part of Ngala’s effort toward sustainable and responsible tourism.

“Above all, we must take care of the people, the wildlife and the land,” said Dennis Shabangu, Ngala manager. “Before, no one taught the people [lessons like] do not kill the animals; do not chop down the trees; do not throw anything foreign into the bush — keep it clean and pure.

“The Shangaan used to live mostly by hunting and keeping cattle,” Shabangu said. “Now we help by building schools, upgrading clinics, bringing in computers, offering good jobs and by teaching children about conservation, so they will always take care of the animals: They will not poach and there will always be a Ngala.”

Lyson Ngwenya, my ranger guide, is the ninth in a family of 27 children born to his father, a traditional Shangaan healer, and his four wives. The 42-year-old guide worked in office jobs at CC Africa and at Ngala before training six years ago to become a ranger.

“Now this is my office; all 36,000 acres of it,” he said.

Even as a child, long before his formal ranger training, Lyson was adept at tracking animals. The same can be said for our tracker, January (named for his birth month). Still, I was amazed by their ability as they examined dirt trails pockmarked by thousands of animal prints before announcing with authority, “That one. It’s a leopard who passed through here a short time ago.”

And indeed, after following that one track out of so many others on a wild ride through the bush, across a stream, down a steep bank into the dry riverbed of the Timbavati and up the bank on the other side, we found our first leopard. We found leopards on two more occasions as well. Because they tend to travel alone and because they are elusive, each sighting was a rare and exhilarating experience.

Some sightings did not demand tracking: Two lions asleep in the middle of our trail; a pride of lions (the male with his full and maniacally wild mane) resting in the shade; a herd of zebras looking like sleek, exquisitely painted racehorses. We witnessed African buffalo, tautly muscled with large heads and large curved horns. We were awed by hundreds of graceful impala. We smiled at a lioness snoozing while her three cubs played nearby. From a distance, we glimpsed white rhino — bull, cow and calf — standing in profile. January even spotted a tiny chameleon, bright green in a spring green tree, at dusk. How did he pick out the almost invisible lizard?

And everywhere in this vast land, Lyson pointed out the balance and wonder of nature.

“When elephants push down tree branches, if we look with one eye, we see destruction, waste,” he said. “But look with two eyes and see the good side. Those broken branches can now be eaten by animals that are too small to reach them otherwise.”

CC Africa’s and Ngala’s commitment to sustainable tourism benefits people, too. Accommodations are limited to just 20 comfortable one-room, thatched-roof cottages furnished in British colonial style, one large suite and, some miles away, six tented suites. There are no plans to expand.

“We can keep our land unspoiled, so that Ngala will be here always,” Lyson said. “And it will continue to help our villages.”

Toward the end of my last evening drive, January sat in his tracker’s seat, swinging a lantern from side to side. It was barely bright enough to see the path; dim so as not to disturb the animals. With the exception of this one light and the stars above, we were in total darkness.

Suddenly, Lyson stopped the Land Rover. Loping across the path ahead of us was a herd of giraffe — elegant, regal, heads held high, with a majesty that seemed to say, this land belongs to us. And in every sense, it does.—Eunice Fried

A Turtle’s Pace
The Turtle Island resort in Fiji began as one man’s attempt to change the world, or at least his little corner of it. It is one of the original ecotourism destinations, adhering to environmentally sound and sustainable operating practices and fulfilling a responsibility to contribute to the local community.

Flashback to 1972, when Richard Evanson, then age 36, sold the fledgling cable television system he founded. Cash-rich and in need of a new adventure (not to mention a well-deserved rest), he flew off to Fiji where he promptly purchased Nanuya Levu, a 500-acre barren island in Fiji’s Yasawa archipelago.

Arriving with a tent, a fridge and a generator, Evanson embarked on a new project: reclaiming the native ecosystem from the local wild goat population running rampant on the island. Working with local Fijians, he planted more than 300,000 trees, introduced freshwater ponds to encourage bird habitats, preserved mangroves and coconut groves and established a turtle release program to foster the survival of the native green and hawksbill turtle populations.

By the late 1970s, the island was thriving with the reintroduction of native plants and animals, and it was attracting attention thousands of miles away — in Hollywood to be precise. After Evanson’s island was chosen as the location for the 1980 film The Blue Lagoon, he decided it was time to open his paradise to the wider world. So, Evanson created Turtle Island resort.

Today at Turtle Island resort, accommodations in Fijian style bures are limited to just 28 guests — 14 couples — at any one time. The tree-planting continues, establishing habitats for wildlife and combating soil erosion. There’s also a four-acre organic garden that provides many of the ingredients used in the resort’s kitchen.

At the same time, Turtle Island resort “gives back” to its community in numerous ways. In its day-to-day operations, the resort provides employment for 120 islanders. A portion of its profits have gone to fund a secondary school for island children (until 2002 children had to leave the island to pursue their education after primary school), and to start the Yasawas Community Foundation, a trust that provides health care and educational assistance and supports community programs for the local population.—Francis X. Gallagher