15°96.5’S, 005°70.9’W
11 days out from our Cape Town departure, after a generally slow slog of unusually very light winds, St. Helena appeared like an oasis. Shrouded in fog, it reminded me of the opening scene to the Jurassic Park/Lost World movies of mountains suddenly and aggressively rising out of the ocean. Crossing the 2200 mile threshold now sailing aboard S.V. Sláinte, we are steadily ticking off the nautical miles covered.
Backing up to 11 days ago. Upon departing Cape Town, we were met with three days of 15-22 knot winds and lumpy, strong following seas. Our port side washboard is a two-piece unit that installs on the lower transom step and raises to a height of ~ 3 ft. It is intended to reduce breaking waves coming aboard. We awoke after a fairly rolly first day at sea to find the lower part broken and deposited higher up on the aft portion of the boat. It was as if Neptune was sending a little reminder of who is in charge. I’m still amazed it wasn’t washed overboard, although we did lose one hand reel at some point in the evening and are now down to one remaining hand reel and rod setup to fortify the boat with fish.
What followed in the coming days has generally been an unusually light period of wind. Considerably so for a nautical run that has a reputation of being a downwind milk run. The winders were so light that for 4 days straight we could not sustain the spinnaker (kite) and resorted to alternating diesel engines (in an effort to conserve fuel and the impact on our wallet- typically only one engine is running at a time when cruising.)
Highlights:
Whales. Day 6, ghosting along quietly under the spinnaker in the early morning calm of flat seas, we had a near collision with a mother and calf whale that closed in quickly on us. Truly an epic moment that made you stop and reflect on what just happened and was seen. Momma whale was none too pleased with our uber close fly by and let us know loudly as she admonished Sláinte. Check out how she rolled on her side to avoid the collision and perhaps chucked us the ‘fin bird’ going bye. And turn up the volume, she’s vocal at the end.
St. Helena is such a unique little remote outcropping that is slowly coming of age. With an airport added in the last several years that now brings commercial traffic as well as resupply twice weekly, reaching the island by boat from South Africa is no longer the primary mode of entry that once took weeks by ship. Additionally, wi-fi has found the island with a few ‘hotspots’ available. For a small fee, you can access wi-fi while in those specific establishments. Outside their doors however, it’s welcome back to the dark ages. One could argue, such a blissful existence.
Carved out of volcanic rock, 4,000 hardy souls, called ‘Saints,’ actively populate the island. The population is decidedly older, as they lose the younger generations to the UK and Europe when University years roll around, never to return permanently. The usual signs of years past military fortifications abound, as they do in many coastal areas. And then there are the unusual elements like Jacob’s ladder. A 699 vertical staircase that rises from the town below to the fortification at the top of the harbor. Rising ~180 meters with an elevation of greater than 40%, it’s a novel traverse trodden by soldiers long ago and a nice reactivation for the leg muscles that have been woefully underutilized while sailing. We checked that bucket list item off during our last morning on the island followed by catching the Remembrance Day parade (stateside known as Veteran’s Day) and the pomp surrounding the Governor coming out to deliver a speech to his subjects.
Outside of provisioning what consumables we needed and adding 350L of diesel to replenish the amount burned enroute, we wrapped our stay with what else, visiting the establishments that provide liquid re-fortifications and found three absolute gems.
Anne’s Place – the iconic cruisers watering hole and saving grace. Run by Richard and Jane for the last 15+ years as Anne’s health (the namesake) has failed, they have lived up to their reputation of saving many a battered sailor. Running your tab in a notebook and guiding you to the local establishments that may have what you’re looking for, they are a godsend and just such nice people. Richard does one helluva pig roast. If ever there, pull out the notebooks to the left of the bar and find Slainte’s entry. We appropriately followed the Mistress Moon page, another Vision 444 catamaran that had traversed the same path just months earlier.
Saints Distillery – dubbed as the most remote distillery in the world, you’ll need a local ride to find this outpost. Run by master distiller Richard and his wife Sally (a native Saint and the above-mentioned Anne’s daughter), they make some great Gin and Rum. The lemon infused Gin is just heavenly, and the Kentucky barrel aged rum makes the rum lineage proud. Their location is also quite scenic. Worth finding them, scheduling a tour and taking some ‘Spirit of the Saints’ away.
Consulate Hotel – if staying on the island off a boat, I’d try the Consulate. A cool old proper English style bar, the place oozes history. Grab a drink and retreat to the second-floor balcony with the Napoleon statue and watch the St. Helena world roll by. I could easily wear out a chair here. If only Hemmingway ventured this way, instead of Key West, who knows what he’d have scribed.
Likely to not return as our journey takes us north and west.
What better harbor for SV Sláinte to experience as the first country to check into as this remote outpost. Cheers to the Saints and thank you for the hospitality.
And my impression after the first protracted journey aligns with the quote from Arthur C Clarke:
“How inappropriate to call the planet earth when it’s quite clearly ocean.”