Days with Saints

We met Gilbert, Joan and Juliana back in 2007 when we first visited St. Helena Island. Gilbert worked for Cable & Wireless and was a communications officer,  “the voice of the South Atlantic”. We met him first via radio and then when we arrived, he provided a warm welcome and a tour of the island. We've stayed in touch over the years and renewing our acquaintance, eight years later, was a pleasure. Spending time with born and bred Saints is the perfect way to learn more about the island and island life.

Like us, they've grown older. Both Joan and Gilbert have retired, but they're both working full time, just at other jobs now. Juliana, only 10 in 2007, is now 18,  a beautiful young woman, now graduated from high school, learning to drive and looking for a job.

Though we had the hire car for a few days to tour the island, Gilbert easily found spots we'd missed like the Heart-Shaped Waterfall that we'd passed several times, but hadn't even realized it was there.

We headed out to Deadwood Plain where new wind turbines had been installed. We stopped at the small meteorological station and then he pointed out the Painter's Palette, a colorfully eroded valley that showed off the intrinsic geologic beauty of the island.

We'd never visited the Millennium Forest, where Saints had planted thousands of gumwood trees in a conservation effort to restore the Great Wood Forest. St. Helena ebony, once thought to be extinct, also grows in great abundance here.

We took a look at the site of the new airport. It's nearly finished and a “calibration” flight is due in the next couple of weeks. There's mixed emotions about the airport and even Gilbert hadn't visited the new facility to see the progress that had been made. We noted that the end of the runway was definitely the “end of the runway”. King and Queen Rocks had a good backdrop.

Gilbert was a great host and a good sport, stopping frequently so I could get pics of signs and goats and birds and whatever else caught my fancy. We drove past the St. Helena Golf Club, touted as the most remote golf course in the world. I was thrilled when we spotted an endemic wirebird (aka St. Helena plover) and I got chance to photograph it. He was not playing golf, but was allowed on the course anyway.

We had a wonderful feast at Gilbert and Joan's home. Though Joan explained our request for St. Helena fishcakes was not the usual Sunday Saint fare (curry or a roast was more appropriate), she gladly provided fish cakes, rice and traditional pumpkin stew. We met at the Standard (Pub) before our departure for a few parting beers and they walked us to the ferry dock to say goodbye.

We also met a new friend, Val, via the tourist info office. Val is my age, but a tiny, energetic sprite of a woman. She offered to accompany us to Longwood for the Napoleonic tours and then acted as our guide for a walk up Flagstaff  Hill, a postbox walk. We hiked across the Deadwood Plain, site of the Boer Prisoner of War Camp.

Val had done this walk several times, but I found it a labor. When we got to the tippity-top, she promised, the view would make it all worthwhile. Our view from the top was similar to that of Diana's Peak. A thick, misty cloud had moved in obscuring any view at all.

We did, however, get a postbox stamp, proving our ascent. We picnicked up top. Heading down was easy.

Just to tease us, once we had descended, the mist disappeared and Flagstaff came clearly into view.

Val invited us for lunch at her house and it was quite an elegant affair. She served local grouper and wahoo, fresh from the market along with a fresh salad and an interesting mashed potato dish which included onions and cabbage and was excellent. Fresh local guavas gave themselves up into a crumble for dessert. We sipped wine, chatted and felt as if we'd know her for ages.

This is the way with Saints, I think. They're warm, hospitable, outgoing people who willingly share their island with strangers. Sometimes I think we're blessed; other times I'm sure of it.

St. Helena to French Guiana - Days 6 & 7

st helena to french guiana

Day 6

Miles to go: 2587

A lovely night of warm breezes and a starry sky, not quite as spectacular as the previous  night, but then if every night was that special, you couldn't differentiate it from the others. A bright sunrise promised a gorgeous, happy-to-be-alive day in the South Atlantic and it kept its promise. Days like this, when the sun is beaming, it's warm and we're moving along like a hot knife through butter...these are the days that make long passages so fine.

At the change of the watch, David recounted that we'd almost been run down by a large fishing vessel as I'd slept in peaceful ignorance. What happened? He spotted a red light on the horizon heading right for us. He checked the radar. Nothing. He checked the AIS...nothing on it either...yet it continued on its collision path towards us, the red light growing brighter and brighter. A stealth ship? An apparition? An alien invasion? No...it was the rising red planet, Mars, all fiery and aglow in a dark sky. We've had the same issue with the rising of  the moon and it makes for quite an adrenaline rush until you figure out what it is.

It was a calm enough day and I baked chocolate walnut muffins. David offered to cook dinner (I never say no to an offer like that) and rustled up a couple of black olive/onion/mushroom pizzas during the course of the day which sufficed not only for dinner, but will supply night watch snacks and probably tomorrow's breakfast as well ... with chocolate walnut muffin chasers.

Life is good aboard Nine of Cups. Glad you're sailing along with us.

Oh, in case you're keeping track, nary a flying fish last night. Passage total is still 4.

Day 7

Miles to go: 2,455

Seven days at sea already...a whole week and still 2,400 nm left. Based on today's stats, we've another three weeks to go. Starry sky during the night. David's been trying to spot the North Star, but it's been overcast to the north, so no luck yet. Nothing much on night watch. I did see a ship, more than 15 nm away...the first we've seen since we left St. Helena. The dawn was nothing special. No big display, and the rest of the day followed suit, but it was an okay day for wind.

SailMail, our email via radio, has been a challenge lately. Some stations are strong and fast. Others are weak and slow. Prime propagation times change. David's patient with it all. Certain frequencies are bothered by the autopilot, so he has to hand steer during transmission. The South African station was never reliable. He's  been using Belgium lately...reliable, but slow. The Trinidad station, though getting closer, never answers unfortunately. Transmission has been taking 15-20 minutes to send five text emails and receive about the same. Limiting ourselves to 5 outgoing emails has been difficult considering at least 2-3 emails include position reports, a blog and weather request daily. To all of you who gripe and whinge when there's a 10 second delay on Yahoo, we have no pity. Even slow, expensive St. Helena Internet looks good right about now.

We're only 8 degrees south of the Equator...about 480 miles as the crow flies...and the midday sun is becoming more intense each day. Since we practically live outside, we've been wearing hats and slathering on sunscreen, trying to avoid burns, unnecessary UV exposure and subsequent skin cancer...a real concern for sailors. We watched a gal at St. Helena sunning herself on the sea breakwater. Does anyone remember lying in the sun and slathering on tanning oil to insure a perfectly even, deep tan? Hmmm...how times change.

By the way, some folks have wondered how we manage to post photos when we're at sea and the answer is we actually don't. We edit and send all photos in advance to Gentry in New Mexico while we still have Internet and then when we write the blogs, she has a cache of pics to post with them.

Disappointed in the flying fish lately. We obviously hold no allure for them. Once again, zero on deck this morning. I'll have to take up another hobby.

It's also Talk Like A Pirate day today. If we were on land, I think we'd celebrate with a tot of rum and we'd dig out our bandanas and eye patches and have a pirate party.  As it is, we sail dry and I have no idea where our pirate garb is hidden, so we'll content ourselves with saying "Arrrrr" and "Shiver me timbers" a lot.

Enough pirate play. Come sail along. Days 8-10

Napoleon's Longwood

An Emperor's Exile on St. Helena

Napoleon Bonaparte, aka Napoleon I (1769-1821) was the greatest military genius of his time and perhaps one of the greatest generals in history. He created an empire that covered most of western and central Europe. He was defeated by the British in the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 and exiled to St. Helena Island later that year.

Everywhere you go on St. Helena, there are references to their most famous prisoner. Local shops have lots of books, prints, postcards and all sorts of Napoleonic themed souvenirs available. In fact, we drove out of Jamestown  via Napoleon Street.

Queen Victoria sold the land and buildings where Napoloen had lived and his burial site to the French. To this day, they maintain an official consulate in St. Helena and all the grounds are French territory. Though admission to the Napoleonic sites are free, reservations must be made in advance to visit the French territory.

There are three specific sites to visit and we set out to the Briars Pavilion first. When Napoleon first arrived at St. Helena, he was dissatisfied with the accommodations that had been prepared for him. He saw a beautiful home owned by the Balcombes and asked if he might stay there until the house in Longwood could be renovated to his liking. The Balcombes honored his request and he stayed for several months there while Longwood was upgraded.

Our host at Briars Pavilion was Trevor Magellan (great name, huh?) and Trevor knew his stuff. Only one room is open for viewing at the Briars, but Trevor's stories made the trip worthwhile. Interestingly, many pieces of original furniture and mementoes are on loan for the bicentennial commemoration of Napoleon's exile to St. Helena being held this year in France.

We next drove to Longwood, Napoleon's primary residence for his six years of exile in St. Helena.

Unfortunately, photography of any kind is prohibited (which riled me no end) inside Longwood. Our guide provided a well-practiced spiel as we walked from room to room...perhaps 6 or 8 rooms all told. On display was furniture including his bed, mementoes, lots of paintings and prints and even Napoleon's death mask ...all of which would be more interesting if only I could share photos with you. Grrr! One bit of trivia we learned was that Napoleon had carved peepholes in his shutters so that he could spy on his guards without them spying on him.

The house itself, though quite dark and damp inside, is lovely on the outside. Napoleon had gardens planted around Longwood through which he wandered and they are still beautifully maintained.

Napoleon died in 1821, having lived for six years on the island under constant surveillance. While there has long been speculation that the cause of death was arsenic poisoning, it is now believed that he died of cancer. He was buried with all the pomp and circumstance a small island could muster in a lovely meadow under willow trees, a spot he himself had chosen in the lush, green Sane Valley. The French exhumed his body in 1840 and his remains were returned to Paris. His empty tomb remains.

By the way, though Napoleon was probably the most famous person to be exiled on St. Helena Island, he was by no means, the only famous person to be exiled here. Several Boer generals were exiled here, as was Dinizulu, a famous Zulu chief.

The tiny HM Prison still houses a few prisoners, but none so grand as France's Emperor.

See a bit more of Napoleon's St. Helena at http://nineofcups.com/StHelenaAscension.html

Still some St. Helena stories left. We packed lots into a few days. Next, some time with Saints and a postbox walk up Flagstaff Hill.