Words by Sara Mulcahy
There are many things’ visitors love about Port Douglas, from its idyllic beach and proximity to the rainforest and the reef, to its colourful shops and award-winning cafes and restaurants. But the first — and last — impression of the town is often forged by the iconic avenue of palm trees that line the main road as you veer off the Captain Cook Highway on your way into town. And we have one man to thank for that: Christopher Charles Skase.
As part of his ultra-luxe Sheraton Mirage hotel development in the 1980s, Skase wanted a grand, tropical entrance to Port Douglas. To achieve that goal, he spent millions of dollars buying a palm tree plantation up in the Daintree Rainforest and bringing in 1400 mature African oil palms (Elaeis guineensis) by ferry, road and helicopter. A 2021 Douglas Shire council audit found 608 of the original trees remaining, which are now maintained and protected as a key part of the area's tourist appeal.
Skase may have been a liar, a cheat and a crook, but there’s no denying the man had vision.
The beginning
Skase first visited Port Douglas as a 21-year-old traveller in 1969. At that time, the town was all but abandoned. The gold rush was long over, a new railway had bypassed the once bustling port, and the population had sunk to just a few hundred people seeking a life away from the rat race.
But the image of a wild and beautiful Four Mile Beach sparked an idea in the would-be entrepreneur’s mind, one that would take another two decades to bring to fruition.
By the early 1980s, Skase had relocated from his hometown of Melbourne to the Queensland capital, Brisbane, and was an intermittent visitor to Port Douglas, popping by on his yacht on fishing trips out of Cairns.
He was now a fantastically successful businessman, running his financial services and investment company, Qintex, and married to his glamorous socialite wife, Pixie. His idea to build a luxury resort on Four Mile Beach was finally within his grasp, but for a few pesky problems.
First, he needed to raise even more money to finance his ambitious project, which Sheraton was contracted to manage. Luckily, he wasn’t one to lose sleep over embellishing the truth.
The investment manager tasked with that job reportedly confessed to sending a photographer to Hawaii, and passing off the pictures as Four Mile Beach, to persuade investors to part with their cash.
Second, the tranche of land Skase wanted to build on was owned by the state government. But he knew how to grease palms, and the National Party Premier at the time, one Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen, wasn’t known for his adherence to the rulebook. (He’s reported as saying, “I don't care what you blokes do, as long as you bring your money to Queensland.”)
While the development was cautiously welcomed as a windfall for local businesses, there was also opposition — as there still is to large-scale development today — over the risks to the mangroves, the rare native flora and fauna, and the general laidback vibe of the town.
Skase ignored these concerns, as he did the fact that Jabukanji (Port Douglas) was a significant ceremonial site for Cape York First Nations people. Bama elders were at no time consulted on the design or construction of the resort. (Because of this, the elders were unsurprised by his — spoiler alert — untimely demise.)