19 January 2011
It was 7o'clock in the evening, and our last night at sea. I caught sight of what I thought was our first fishing boat. David took up the binoculars. "It is all grey, I think it is a gunboat". That would seem to make sense especially as they have a 200nm exclusion zone to patrol. As it drew near it grew rather large, more than one would have expected from a naval patrol boat and then up it popped on our AIS 'RMS St. Helena'. Of course that was it. We should have guessed. The Royal Mail ship and a best kept secret. Well, now that I have let the cat out of the bag it is not such a secret anymore! I don't know much about cruises but this is one that I am definitely saving for my dotage. It sails from the UK twice a year via Ascension and St Helena to Cape Town taking 31 days to cover the voyage. The rest of the time it plies its way back and forth between Ascension Island and St Helena. It takes on just a few paying passengers in fifty five comfortable cabins. Sounds like my ideal kind of cruise.....
At 9pm, just as the sun dipped below the horizon, I wrote in the ship's log, 'land ahoy'. We were 54nm away. And foreboding it was. A thick grey cloud hung over the island. The island was flat topped, cliffs rising sheer from the sea bed. As we continued to motor along the north coast the heavens opened. For the first time ever we saw a moon bow and tried to capture it on camera. As we closed the land, Jacob's ladder opened up like a stair way to heaven. Every single step, and there are 699 of them, was lit. I don't believe there could ever be a more dramatic night approach to a harbour anywhere. Arriving just before dawn we were hoping we would be able to see the moorings, but in spite of the moon still high, we could not identify any without threading our way between the other WARC boats that had arrived ahead of us. Not wanting to risk fouling the propeller at this stage we drifted around for an hour until we had sufficient light. No wonder we could not see the buoys for they were absolutely tiny. The local ferryman directed us to one inshore. It was still only 05.30am local time. Returning once more to the warmth of our bunks we fell asleep to the crash and thunder of the relentless swell breaking against the cliffs.
Susan Mackay