A dolphin sometimes escorts the tenders heading for the jetties at Penneshaw, a village set on a clear bay. Australia's third-largest island, stretching nearly 150 kilometres, Kangaroo Island lives up to its name: animals rule here, from western grey kangaroos to beach-dwelling sea lions, by way of koalas perched in the eucalyptus and echidnas crossing the roads without a care for traffic. The island's roughly 4,000 residents seem to have gladly accepted their status as the minority here, and the stop plays out like a southern safari, light years from the bustle of the mainland.

Penneshaw, the Island's Bridgehead

The landing sits right next to the ferry terminal that connects the island to the mainland, and the village itself can be explored in a few minutes: a golden beach, artisan shops, a community gallery, and a café or two facing the strait. At the end of the bay, an engraved rock recalls an almost forgotten visit: French explorer Nicolas Baudin had his expedition's passage carved here in 1803, at a time when the French and British were racing to chart these coasts. The nod will delight French-speaking passengers, especially since the island's map remains dotted with French names, capes, bays, and peninsulas alike.

Seal Bay, Walking Among Sea Lions

About a 45-minute drive away, Seal Bay offers a rare privilege: walking down onto the sand, accompanied by an accredited guide, right in the middle of a colony of Australian sea lions. The species, endangered, breeds on only a handful of coastlines, and the rules are strict: a respectful distance, low voices, slow steps. Visitors watch females returning from three days of fishing offshore, pups calling for them with bleats up and down the beach, and males dozing like sand-covered boulders. The carefully guided experience leaves a lasting impression, even on travellers who thought they'd seen it all.

The Sculptures of Flinders Chase

Flinders Chase National Park occupies the island's western tip, about a two-hour drive from the landing, which limits the outing to full-day excursions. The reward waits at the end: the Remarkable Rocks, granite boulders sculpted by 500 million years of wind and sea spray, balanced on a dome that drops away toward the Southern Ocean. Their shapes, pocked with orange patches of lichen, change character with every step and every hour of the day. A little further on, the walkway at Admirals Arch descends toward a sea arch where waves crash beneath a vault bristling with rock formations, while fur seals jostle for position on the rocks in the surf below.

An Island Generous Down to the Plate

Between its nature reserves, the island cultivates a food-loving way of life: honey from Ligurian bees, a pure strain protected here since the 19th century, farmhouse cheeses, oysters raised in the cold waters of the strait, and eucalyptus distilled into fragrant oils. Farm shops line the excursion routes, offering tastings, take-home baskets, and conversations with farmers happy to talk about their corner of the country, and the goods slipped into a bag make excellent souvenirs, both local and light enough to carry back to the cabin. The local guides, endlessly chatty, season the drive with stories of southern storms and the shipwrecks that shaped the map of the island's lighthouses.

On the way back, as the tender pulls away from the jetties, the island stretches out in the low light, its tawny hills and clear coves on full display. Thoughts drift to the sleeping sea lions, the granite rocks, and the French inscription from 1803. Some stops entertain; this one makes peace with the idea that a place can belong first to its animals, and thrive all the better for it.