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A cyclone was churning off Madagascar when I arrived at Indigo Bay resort last February. The storm was several hundred miles away and wasn't threatening this southeastern African nation, but the resort's staff had brought in its fishing and diving boats just in case.

I sat on the porch of the Moorish-influenced villa, sipping a Laurentina beer as I looked out over the vanishing-edge pool and the long stretch of beach, watching the wind build to a crescendo of swaying palm trees and the sea turn a gray that you wouldn't dare go near.

Only hours earlier, the water had been that aquamarine you immediately want to dive into. I had seen it from the air as I flew to the Bazaruto Archipelago from Vilanculos on the coast. After the small twin-prop touched down at Indigo Bay's airstrip on the main island, which is also named Bazaruto, I was driven up to the open-air reception area, all Indonesian woods and deep couches, where a smiling waiter held out cold fruit juice in a glass beaded with condensation.

He led the way along a polished wood walkway to my quarto (Portuguese for room, even though it was more like a cottage). About 40 quartos lie between the main building and the beach, and a dozen more, as well as a presidential suite, are strung along the hillside.

On my way to dinner that evening, as the wind gathered force, I passed some of Indigo Bay's other attractions: a shop selling designer beachwear, a new water-sports center and a beachside bar. The only thing lacking was other guests, as if the resort were decorated for a party and no one had arrived.

At least not yet.

Mozambique is not on many people's radar. It is twice the size of California, abuts six countries, has about 1,560 miles of some of the most gorgeous beaches you will find anywhere, with coral reefs said to surpass those of the not-too-distant Seychelles, and abundant seafood. But there aren't many hotels on the coastline. A civil war had a lot to do with that, but more about that later.

Indigo Bay is the first resort of its luxurious caliber and size on the Mozambican coast, clearly in anticipation of a tourism boom. It used to be a smaller, much less conspicuous property but was taken over by a Saudi Arabian businessman several years ago and jazzed up. Not everyone is happy about the change, seeing that it has pushed a land of laid-back lodges into the realm of ritzy resorts. But with this kind of sun and sand, change was inevitable.

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A terrier, a crane and dolphins

ON my first trip to the archipelago a year earlier, I had started off at one of the more traditional lodges, in fact the one by which all other beach properties in Mozambique have been measured since it was built in the early '90s.

Benguerra Lodge, on the island of Benguerua, has fewer than a dozen open-sided bungalows done in a Zanzibari style — carved four-poster beds, richly colored walls and fabrics — and topped with palm leaves. The bungalows are set beneath a canopy of trees just in from the beach, and each one bears the name of a province of the country.

Benguerra Lodge is homier than Indigo Bay: Someone's pet terrier hangs around the lounge, and a white crane has made its home in the garden. It's considered one of the two must-stays in the country, along with the Polana, a confection of a hotel in Maputo, Mozambique's capital. Added to those are a growing number of newer properties: Marlin Lodge, which is not far from Benguerra Lodge, and Quilálea, a teensy island resort in the Cabo Delgado province to the far north.

My arrival at Indigo was as different as the two lodges. Instead of flying in, I took a boat from Vilanculos, Mozambique. It had seemed the most obvious way to get to the islands, which are in the middle of a marine reserve that has one of the largest surviving populations of dugongs in the Indian Ocean as well as whales and manta rays.

Dolphins escorted us on the 40-minute voyage, crisscrossing our bow until shortly before we beached in front of Benguerra Lodge's dive center. But mostly the action was on the surface: Hundreds of black-winged flamingos gathered at the northern end of the island while fishermen headed home in their dhows, their distinctive short-masted sails making this southern country feel like Arab-influenced East Africa.

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