The van hums onto the coastal highway and the city’s skyline falls away — replaced by open farmland and a horizon that seems to be made of wind. By mid-afternoon the vehicle threads down narrow roads toward the island’s southern edge, where Cape Woolamai’s cliffs throw surf like a challenge and the ocean pulls at the shoreline. On Phillip Island, the day compresses: beaches, boardwalks and low-slung headlands lead to a dusk ritual that has drawn visitors for decades — the Penguin Parade, when scores of little penguins waddle in from the sea to their burrows.