With gritted teeth, we set the car northwards and, after 2½ hours up the F3 freeway, we found ourselves at Peppers Anchorage Resort.

Port Stephens isn't famous for anything. Nicole Kidman didn't hire her wedding portable toilets here, nor has Paul Hogan invested in any tax minimisation schemes in the area. Aside from dolphin and whale watching, what was the family going to do ... relax? As any parents with young kids know, relaxation is not an option. We had to get busy.

The Peppers Anchorage did not look promising for this mission. It exuded relaxation. All muted blues and whites, the Anchorage is a boutique retreat, with nautical references everywhere. Model boats, diagrams of boats, photos of boats, boat fittings, boat ropes and boats, boats, boats out of every window.

It was a sleepy Monday and the beach in the front of the resort was deserted. Even the boats in the marina didn't do make their customary clink as the natural basin buffeted the wind and made it calm ... and relaxing.

But children are very reliable on some counts and before long they had us feeling quite at home. Our Loft suite was looking as chaotic as the house we'd briefly left in Sydney – although the Loft had a much more comfortable lounge and a mezzanine level bedroom and bathroom. And it had sea views that you just do not get in Sydney's inner west.

The first night we ventured out to nearby Nelsons Bay looking for action. We needed something to distract us from sick baby and Miss 3. Unfortunately being Monday, it was not a good night for diversions.

We headed to the marina. It was closed except for one restaurant, The Wharf, located above the fish co-op. The smell of freshly caught fish permeated the air. Good, the clean ocean smell was something to distract.

We were the only people there, but it didn't matter because the restaurant's décor was so far the busiest piece of Port Stephens action we had seen so far. There was a carpet covered in fish and anchors, tropical fish in huge back lit tanks, decorative pebbles and frosted glass screens and about half a dozen different seating options. This was good, actually too good. The kids went into overdrive. The sick baby despite not having eaten for a week began to scale the glass screens and throw the decorative pebbles into the fish tank.

Once we were able to pull our eyes and little bodies away from the dazzle we looked out the large glass windows to the real action. We watched fishing boats unload their catch while we ate flathead from the co-op below, some of the best hand-cut chips south of Byron Bay and a Greek salad that was a terrible Greek salad but a fantastic green salad.

Day Two and we took a ferry ride from Nelsons Bay to Tea Gardens, an endearing art/craft stop with an ice creamery and a nice café-gallery.

Old ferry, old passengers: my heart wasn't racing and neither was the commentary provided by the driver. It was so laconic we had to pinch ourselves awake. But what could he say, nothing ever happens in Port Stephens? Yet we were 90% assured of adventure on this trip. That was the promised success rate in seeing dolphins. We saw them. I am not sure if the baby did but he grew progressively excited by the ferry shifting weight dramatically as we all lurched from side to side to view these beautiful animals frolicking nearby.

Dinner that night at Merretts, the resort restaurant ,was subdued. It wasn't that the food wasn't good, it was great and yes, even exciting. But it was so quiet and refined, it was a red flag to the toddler and baby.

I mean, we braced ourselves, literally starting in the Captain Bar upstairs with the strongest cocktails on the menu, caprioskas. Mum and Dad felt fortified, and we even got a few practice runs on our reflexes by guarding the log fire from the kids.

At the table, we strapped baby into the high chair, promised the other one drinks and deserts and ordered, like everything was going to be just fine. We ate duck and truffle pasta, black risotto with calamari for entrée, followed by mains of barramundi with a delicious puree of salt cod, and beef tournedos with figs, blue cheese and prosciutto. The kids seemed satisfied by a large Magic Pudding bowl of chips. We also ordered a good bottle of Redbank Emily sparkling wine.

But this façade was fading, the baby started acting like his chair was a straitjacket and he had just been committed. Throwing sauced chips, dummies, and a bottle of milk and screaming at the top of his voice, he was out of control. It was exciting for one of the party, the toddler who gave a running commentary on her brother's actions in a shrill loud voice. We ate quickly. Good food, pity about the company.

Day three, time to leave Port Stephens, but not before we would try to squeeze in a last titillation. We were initially nervous about going to Oakdale farm, as it is set next to a golf driving range and a highway. It was a gamble we won. We fed lambs and kids, petted koalas and the highlight, a trailer and tractor ride around the farm with Farmer Lea.

Oakvale is a working farm, as every animal is talent for the show that is the Farmer Lea's trailer truck ride. Farmer Lea was bubbly, she was blonde, she made scripted jokes. It felt so much a like TV set, that I wondered if this was where Skippy grew up.

Peppers Anchorage, a resort of 80 suites and rooms, has all the ingredients for a retreat/resort. It has a spa with a long list of beauty and therapy treatments, a marina that takes bookings for fishing and whale/dolphin watching cruises. There is a billiards room, a bar and a pool, which the toddler braved and enjoyed. Perhaps best is the waterfront walk and the spacious rooms that all have water views.

Did we get excitement? Yes I think we did. We saw wild animals; caged animals and managed to entertain our own little animals. But we also relaxed, and how do I know this? I lamented the fact that we missed out a Port Stephens attraction, The Shell Museum. I know we relaxed because now back in Sydney, a shell museum seems, well ... boring.

The writers were guests of Peppers Anchorage and Merretts.