Best of Ascension Island

Discovered in 1501, the Portugese named it Conception Island. Then in 1503, it was discovered once again by the French (who didn't know the Portugese had already discovered it) and named Ascension Island and the name stuck. We stopped at Ascension Island in 2007 and really enjoyed the visit. We passed within 200-300 miles of the island a week or so ago and opted to keep on going. Why not a stop at Ascension this time? Well, there are more rules and regulations now...an advance permit is required, for one thing. No biggie really. Landing and Immigration fees have increased, but we could have swallowed that. We opted to pass by mostly because we're kind of anxious to get across the Atlantic and we think our time will be better spent in exploring new places in the Guianas rather than another stop at Ascension. Sometimes, we make compromises. Ascension is a working island with no permanent population and little to no inherent culture. All that said, since we were in the neighborhood,  I thought I'd at least mention the high points of our visit in 2007.

The most memorable part of Ascension for us was watching the green turtles lay their eggs and watching the hatchlings head for the ocean. This great turtle migration from Brazil to Ascension takes place annually between January and May.

There are two landscapes on Ascension. There's the alien-like moonscape of volcanic remains at sea level. It's all rough, black volcanic rubble. We roamed around and found cemeteries and little beaches and markers. It was hot and barren.

The other landscape is the lush, green tropical rain forest of Green Mountain National Park at the top of Ascension's volcanic peak. Bright red Ascension lilies were in bloom. We hiked several postbox walks and enjoyed the cool mists and dense foliage in sharp contrast to the black volcanic rock at sea level.

Our son, Brennan, had alerted us to Geocaches on the island. Folks hide a “treasure” cache and provide GPS coordinates for others to find the cache. We spent a day geocaching which ended up being great fun and exhausting, traipsing over volcanic rock in the noonday heat.

We visited the tiny island museum and a derelict fort. We saw the historical turtle kraals where thousands of turtles were kept and sold for meat to passing ships, to the point of near extinction for the green turtles. We traipsed around Georgetown and visited the American airbase. We spent a week, and probably saw all there was to see.

And though we're not golfers, we stopped at Guinness' Book of World Records “world's worst (and least green) golf course”. Wanted to make sure that Ric from Boca Raton got a chance to see this, though we didn't stop this time around. Ric, you'll have to play nine holes here yourself one day!

Click here to learn a bit more about Ascension Island.

St. Helena...Then and Now

Gentry, our esteemed web mistress, suggested that we consider a blog on how St. Helena in 2007 compared to St. Helena now. It's an interesting question. Things change, although on St. Helena change comes more gradually than it does elsewhere. The first noticeable change, for a cruiser anyway, is the fact that there are moorings available for visiting yachts. The anchorage is very deep around the island, 65'+ (20 meters). Though anchoring is free, the peace of mind and ease of using a mooring for less than $4US/night was a positive change of which  we were able to take advantage.

The cost of everything has risen dramatically, but so has it everywhere. Port landing fees for the boat and Immigration fees for us have increased by 60%. Considering the St. Helena pound exchange rate was $2.11:US$1 in 2007 and it was $1.45:US$1 in 2015, that's pretty steep. The ferry service doubled its rates and Internet remained expensive at 15 cents/minutes (US$). Diesel fuel, though we didn't need any, was about US$7/gallon.

Two noticeable changes met us as we exited the ferry. First, the rockfall-prone cliffs that rise abruptly from the sea and form the backdrop for the wharf, were now dressed in chain mail, a thick mesh fencing anchored into the cliffs, from top to the sea,  to prevent damage due to falling rocks. We noticed this in several places throughout the island including the cliffs we scaled while climbing Jacob's Ladder.

The wharf had actually been expanded considerably and a new Customs/Immigration/Port Control building had been built at the head of the dock. It included a transit lounge for incoming RMS passengers, which of course, won't be necessary any longer.

The biggest upcoming change will be the official opening of the new airport slated for February 2016. This is the source of much controversy among the islanders, but it's inevitable now. One wonders if there will be an influx of tourists, how they'll be accommodated and what the impact will be on a tiny island. The cost of airfare hasn't been determined although one figure quoted was 500 StH pounds one way to/from Johannesburg on the once-weekly flight. No direct flights from Europe have yet to be scheduled.

Because of the new airport, the RMS St. Helena will cease operations in July 2016. This is a sad note for locals who considered the iconic mail ship a part of St. Helena's heritage.

Mobile phone service was to be launched within days of our departure. At 15 St.Helena cents (~ 23 cents U.S.) per minute, you've got to wonder how many people will be able to afford it although our friends were signing up as we left. Goodbye phone booths? We hardly remembered what they looked like anyway.

There were more subtle changes, too. Last time we visited, we could enter the tortoise paddock for up close views, but now this is prohibited. We were also able to walk right down into the valley to view Napoleon's tomb close up, but now we viewed it from above. A visiting American, it seems, slipped and fell on the grassy, sloped path down to the grave site and tried to sue the island for damages. Damn our litigious Yankee countrymen.

There's a new wind turbine farm out on the Deadwood Plains and we saw more wirebirds than last time. There are lots of conservation efforts like the Millennium Forest. There's a new Haul Road between Ruperts Bay and the airport and there's been a massive expansion of Ruperts Bay which will allow offloading of ship cargo at the docks there, rather than using the current lighters and barges in Jamestown.

So what hasn't changed? There are still no ATMs on the island and visitors must wait in long queues at the little St. Helena Bank to exchange money or withdraw funds. There are minimal tourist services available and credit cards are not accepted by most vendors. This will be a definite disadvantage for visitors.

The biggest non-changes? The charm and 19th century English village quaintness of Jamestown remains intact so far. And, of course, the warmth and hospitality of the Saints themselves never seems to diminish. We'd return to St. Helena in a New York minute.

St. Helena to French Guiana - Days 8 - 10

shiptrak 89

Day 8

Miles to go: 2,312

An okay night. A tiny, sliver of a new crescent moon appeared and set quickly, but at least she  showed up for a change. We'll witness an entire moon phase this trip and I'm glad to welcome her back. Yes, the moon is a she, in case you were wondering.  The wind was a constant 15-20 knots during the night. That's our estimate anyway; the wind speed indicator seems to be on vacation. David has started "the list".

I slept a deep, deep sleep on my 0300-0600 off watch. When David woke me, I was so groggy that I failed to hear him mention that rain was on the way. I ventured out into the cockpit with my morning cup of Earl Grey. It started sprinkling immediately. I retreated below and waited. In 20 minutes, it was all over, a quick morning shower. I climbed back out into the cockpit. It had managed to rain just long enough to get the cockpit wet and make my tea cold. I got comfortable and within 10 minutes, the rain started up again. I grumbled and griped out loud, with no one to hear, but the wind and rain, gathered up my stuff once again and headed down below. I need a chance to wake up peacefully and gracefully and this ain't the way. It's enough to make a girl quite grouchy first thing in the morning. I watched and waited as several more rain clouds headed our way. Grrrr! Luckily, I had 3 hours to work through and out of "the mood" before David got up and had to contend with it.

The day brightened up though (as did my mood) and turned out lovely. We're in t-shirts and barefeet now. Sometimes we need a light cover-up at night, but the blankets have been stowed and the sweatpants, woolen socks and heavy fleeces have seen their last use for a long time.

David cooked again...his famous Chicken Enchilada casserole. Not an easy task when we're on a heel, but well worth the effort... the result was scrumptious as usual. We were fresh out of sour cream, but the plain yogurt I made yesterday was a fine substitution.

Two flying fish today...one big fat one and one tiny, tiny one. That's a total of six this passage...a paltry sum. Our Aussie friend, Tony, asked if we eat them. Some folks do. David did fry a couple up one morning on a previous passage and coerced me into trying one. Disgusting comes to mind...very strong and fishy. No, we don't eat them; we just collect them and then commend them back to Neptune.

Day 9

Miles to go: 2,183

A pleasant enough night watch with a few 25-30 knot gusts associated with cloudbursts that kept us on our toes, but nothing that lasted. For the most part, 12-15 knot E/SE winds prevailed. On my midnight-0300 watch, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a sudden movement. A shadowy silhouette of a fluttering bird hovered just above the solar panels. I think it was probably a petrel, attracted by the running lights. He squawked a few times. I flashed a light on him and he flew off, then returned intermittently throughout my watch. I was wondering if he intended to land on the solar panels like several booby hitchhikers we've had in the past, but he never did.

Dawn was a flop again...a heavy grey, overcast sky with intermittent sprinkles kept me below for an hour or so...enough time to answer an email and finish up a blog. By mid-morning, however, the sun shone its full radiance and remained so for the rest of the day.

Crew conversation has been intense lately. We're still not decided what we'll do after the Guianas...such a big world, so many options, so little time. Rest assured, once we figure it out, you'll be the first to know.

I've begun reviewing my French, taking an hour or so each day brushing up on my vocabulary and verb tenses and idiomatic expressions. It's coming along okay. I've asked David to come up with sentences for me to translate and we do this for 10-15 minutes each morning. The problem, of course, is not asking the questions in French...that's the easy part. Rather it's  successfully understanding the answers that are quickly rattled off in response. "Ou est le banc?", I ask. And the answer is ... Blah,blah,de la blah in a local French accent and dialect and I have absolutely no idea where the bank is at all.

Studying, writing and chatting away the day and before you know it, it's dinner time again. Thai satay chicken with carrots and rice tonight...care to join us?

Day 10

Miles to go: 2,089

A slow night...the wind was fickle, off and on and pushing us more north than northwest. Around 0400, an errant wave rocked Cups and the subsequent crash below had my sleeping Captain retracting his fingernails from the header (ceiling, in boat talk) and trying to untangle himself from the lee cloth holding him in his bunk. Yowsa!

It seems the locker behind the starboard settee had fallen open. The twist-turn butterfly latches that secure the otherwise well-behaved locker must have rotated with time and/or boat vibration and the wave gave it the nudge it needed to spill the contents of the locker. It all came cascading out with a deafening crash. Eight large, heavy, plastic, lidded boxes containing bolts, washers, nuts and screws sailed out onto the sole (floor, in boat lingo). The sacred Dremel tool had taken to flight, too, and now rested near the nav station. David wondered what we'd hit or what had hit us.

My heart raced as I scrambled down from the cockpit. Several of the boxes remained closed, but we spent the better part of an hour collecting and sorting various bits of stainless hardware throughout the salon, galley and nav station and returning them to their rightful box. I have visions of finding more, probably with my bare feet, in the near future. Enough excitement for one night.

No matter how careful we are about securing everything at sea, things still find a way of shaking loose. We've had silverware drawers shooting spoons and forks across the galley and dinner plates and bowls careening into the aft cabin. Oranges and onions can seem like cannonballs when they're loose and  aloft. Tonight was pretty tame compared to a knockdown we suffered off East Cape returning to New Zealand from the Chatham Islands. Things were in an uproar then. But tonight, David returned to his bunk and I returned to my watch duties and the night continued on into day, which was nowhere near as exciting.

That's my story... and I'm sticking to it.

Days 11-12 coming up