What became of Marlon Brando's ecological wonderland on the sea? I visited to find out

It wasn't like Marlon Brando to go spilling his private beans to the world about the life he had spent his years protecting.

But about Tetiaroa — the Tahitian atoll of his childhood yearnings, and the refuge of his adult life — he did.

We were friends for the last years of his life, and one day in 1997, at his house on the crown of Mulholland Drive, he said to me something he'd never said before: Take notes. He'd tell me about his private atoll, Tetiaroa, and one far-off day, he wanted me to explain to all of you what the place meant to him, and what he wanted it to become after he died.

His hope, his plan, was for Tetiaroa to become an ecologically responsible tropical resort, but more vitally, a nature preserve, an open-air experimental science laboratory, a "university of the sea," all to serve the place and the planet.

Now, I know that "eco-resort" is a paradox. The smallest human act can take a toll on the planet. And the carbon footprint of the rich can be Sasquatch-sized. But Marlon was paradoxical himself, so why should his vision not be practicable and paradoxical, as well?

And what do you know? I went to see it in action, and it's working about as well as he could have hoped.

In the faraway loveliness of the South Pacific, the Brando, the high-end private resort that carries his name, is carrying out some useful, cutting-edge technology