(FORTUNE Magazine) – My last night on North Island, I stayed up late with my South African pals drinking Sey Brew on the beach under an odd, tipped-over sliver of moon: It looked like a chalice without the stem, or maybe a smile. Then to bed, stumbling up a steep, dark, rocky path, waving my flashlight at ropy webs built by spiders that "will bite," I'd been advised, "but only if you stick your fingers down their throats." Arriving at the little wooden lean-to wedged among the boulders halfway up the hill where I'd stashed my gear, I took off my shoes and shirt. I sprayed a stripe of Doom around the sleeping zone. Then I puffed out the mosquito netting, tucked the edges under the mattress to make a cocoon, and switched off the flashlight.

I was roughing it. You won't have to--but then you'll be paying $1,500 a night. That's the rate you can expect when Wilderness Safaris' new Seychelles resort finally opens next fall. By then you'll have lots of civilized choices that weren't available to me when I visited as construction was getting under way this summer. Among them: your own beachfront villa with private plunge pool, Internet access, a kitchen in which the staff will prepare your meal if you prefer to dine alone, and a world-class bathroom that "celebrates the act of bathing." There will also be a spa nestled in the rocks (just below where I camped), a dedicated bar for viewing sunsets, and a private jungle getaway in a remote corner of the 500-acre island, described in marketing materials as "the sala in the forest" but usually referred to on-site as the "shag hut."

Architects Silvio Rech and Lesley Carstens, a husband-and-wife team from South Africa, began visiting North Island shortly after it was bought by a group of investors led by Wilderness Safaris in 1997. The couple drew most of the plans by hand at the site itself. Walking on the long beach at the eastern end of the island, pointing out where the villas will be situated among the palms (ten one-bedrooms and one with four bedrooms), Rech says what he's after is "a feeling of abandonment." A few steps later, he adds: "With a great chef, of course, underplayed. And fancy drinks."

And with allowances for Mrs. Schwartz--that goes without saying. The fictitious Mrs. Schwartz from Philadelphia is a well-known customer in the African safari trade. She has an adventurous spirit, within limits. She likes a big bathtub, a well-lit makeup mirror, and air-conditioning in her sleeping quarters. She prefers to view nature from a safe, wellupholstered distance, without getting sand in her shoes. And she may well ask for a chauffeured golf cart to carry her from her villa to the spa. Mrs. Schwartz will be quite comfortable on North Island. "We'll host kings and queens," promises Wilderness Safaris' Andy Payne by telephone from Johannesburg.

Something was nibbling on my toes. I came awake fast, yanked my knees into my chest, flailed at the darkness with my fists, and yelled. Whatever it was, it ran. By the time I found the flashlight, there was nothing left to see. Then, not because I was brave, just very tired, I went back to sleep. In a fetal position, with only the top of my head poking out of the blanket. That's where it got me. The sensation I woke to was one of fingers scratching lightly at my skull. But they weren't fingers, they were claws. Or possibly teeth, but that's too awful. Claws or teeth, they belonged to a rat, that much I know. Because this time I whirled and caught the little beady-eyed bastard in the beam of my flashlight. It looked back at me, bored, then lumbered off into the darkness.

Don't worry, Mrs. Schwartz. You won't be sharing the island with any rats. They've been there a long time--at least since the 17th century, when European traders began stopping at North Island in search of fresh water and giant tortoises--but they're slated for extermination as soon as construction is complete. (There's a New Zealand company that knows how to take care of that.) Also doomed are the cats, whose paw prints you sometimes see, and the cattle that were left behind after the old copra plantation shut down in the 1970s and the island was abandoned. It's all part of Wilderness Safaris' most ambitious goal of all for North Island: a full-scale ecological restoration, referred to, grandly, as the "Noah's Ark concept." Invasive flora and fauna will be eradicated or removed, and endangered native species will be reintroduced. At the top of the list: the giant tortoise and the Seychelles magpie robin, of which only 60 individuals remain.

I left my bed, found a boulder to lean against, and gazed out on the Indian Ocean. It's a straight shot 2,500 miles across open water from North Island to Indonesia. The stars were as thick as snowflakes in a blizzard. The waves pounding on the rocks made a sound like the sea's own beating heart. Have a great time, Mrs. Schwartz.

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