But David Glasheen, who came to global prominence a few years ago as a castaway on a remote Tropical North Queensland island, has always been, first and foremost, a philosopher.

And, like most philosophers, he wants to share his bold visions – visions of reimagining our lives, turning away from consumerism and finding peace and solace in the natural world.

“I have been asking myself the same question since I was a child of 12,” the 21st-Century Robin Crusoe says in a long conversation from his temporary home in Sherwood in Brisbane.

“What really is the meaning of life?”

Born in Sydney, the son of a lawyer and dietitian, David readily acknowledges he was a child of privilege.

He went to the elite school Saint Ignatius’ College Riverview, made the right connections, learned the language of business, and took up roles in the tobacco industry while entering into a range of commercial ventures of his own.

One was a gold mine in Papua New Guinea. He raised around $2m in capital for the mine before going public on the ASX and watching his shares of 25c soar six-fold.

They made him a millionaire (when being a millionaire was still considered an achievement) 10 times over, and a glittering future among the wealthy global elite beckoned.

Then his world came crashing down along with the 1987 stock market crash, estimated to have wiped out $US1.7 trillion in equities across the globe.

David and some associates had a lease on one-third of Restoration Island in Far North Queensland and in the early 1990s he moved there to reassess not only his own life, but his entire view of the universe.

The island, he declares, healed him. The solitary existence, the plentiful food including coconuts, acidic beach almonds, bush cherries and wongai plums, the friendship of a few dingoes and infrequent human visitors who were inspired by his lifestyle gave him new insights into how life should be lived.

At the core of those insights was something about which he remains utterly certain – money, possessions and social status are utterly meaningless.

“Now I know it’s crazy,” he says.

“But I restored myself through the power of that region, through the power of the island, and I think I can help other people do the same.

“What do you think is the ultimate job in this world?

“I’ll tell you.

“The ultimate job in this world is being a philanthropist, being a person who gives to other people, being a person who helps other people.”

He has, in a way, helped people.

His book, The Millionaire Castaway, released in 2019 and written with Neil Bramwell, sold more than 250,000 copies worldwide and hit the bestseller lists in the United Kingdom.

He has another book percolating in his mind, tentatively titled What Does It All Mean?

But today, as he gets into his early 80s, he’s wondering if he’ll live long enough to answer that question.

“Mentally, I am fine,” he says.

“Physically, I’m a bit stuffed.”

He had a heart attack a month ago and didn’t know he’d had a heart attack, even when he was actually having the heart attack.

He was already in Cairns because he needed medical attention but, while staying at the Red Cross Cairns Wellbeing Centre near the hospital, he woke up one morning feeling odd.

A receptionist asked if he wanted an ambulance but he declined the offer – then, thankfully, changed his mind.

“When they arrived they told me I was in the process of having a heart attack,” he recalls. “I didn’t even know it, it didn’t feel like a heart attack to me.”

He’s recovering with members of his family in Sherwood and is determined to return to the island, but admits now that a solitary existence is probably not practical.

He insists he does not need a carer.

“It’s a complicated thing, being a carer – I don’t need help going to the toilet or the shower, I just need people around me,” he says.

If he can return to Restoration Island, he believes he can sow the seeds of his great dream – a “wellness centre”.

He believes there are millions of Australians who need to reorientate their emotional and spiritual lives, and he includes himself in that category.

Restoration Island is so named because, on 29 May 1789, when Captain Bligh and his men landed there after the mutiny on the Bounty, they found abundant food including oysters and fruit which restored their spirits.

David says his own spiritual journey on the island has been invaluable to his wellbeing, but the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune have still found him.

For one thing, he still can’t quite come to terms with the emotional fallout from the suicide of a beloved daughter in 2017.

Part of the healing process at the wellness centre, he envisages, would involve an understanding of Indigenous philosophy which would come into the equation via (he hopes) a partnership in his proposed venture with the nearby Lockhart River Indigenous community.

He has come to know many Indigenous people in the north and believes few are being genuinely assisted by government programs and endless infusions of money.

Instead, many are losing their identity and cultural connections, leading them into the criminal justice system, alcoholism and suicide.

Yet the traditional indigenous approach to living, unquestionably in his view, holds valuable clues to living a mentally healthy life which includes sharing whatever you have with others, and offering friendship and compassion to those around you.

His business background has left him with a good grasp of marketing techniques, including savvy use of media, and he has talked to a few perspective partners in the venture, most of whom tell him: “Good idea Dave, but wrong country.”

Australians have, historically, had little time for spiritual inquiry, he says. Many would-be-supporters suspect the idea will never be commercially successful, particularly when David has suggested that the price of a visit to the wellness centre be left up to the guest.

“It would be donations only – I think people should pay what they think it is worth,” he says firmly.

He has 10 years on his lease, and he knows time is running out.

He readily admits the road to success in such a venture will not be an easy one, but points out his own life is a testament to just how unpredictable and strange life can be,

Anyone who wants to join him as a potential companion on the island can contact him through restorationisland@gmail.com.

He agrees he has opened himself up to people who might be little “crazy.”

“That’s OK,” he says.

“I am a little crazy myself.”

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