Turtles the size of wheelbarrows... Mad!
W2N 'Where to Next?'
Rob 'Bee' Clark
Thu 22 Jan 2009 19:54
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I know, I'm sorry, I said I was going to write
something about the sail down here from Gambia. I should know better than to
make such empty promises but if you read the small print, you'll have noticed
that I did include a small disclaimer to account for my unforgivable laziness!
To be honest though, it would only have been a miserable, self-pitying whine
about squalls, steep waves, sleepless nights, thunderstorms, relentless
'slamming' and all kinds of gloomy unpleasantness like that. There were a few
moments of decent sailing, particularly once Neptune had duly enjoyed nearly a
full bottle of Champagne but they didn't last long and weren't really worth
getting excited about. I couldn't help wondering if in fact Neptune was
ungrateful for the way in which the Champagne had been delivered;
sprayed F1-style over the rail by a balding naked bloke!
Anyway, enough of that - you want to hear about
Ascension right? Well, I want to tell you about Ascension but I know how it goes
- once I start, I'm not going to be able to stop. So for those of you who are
just rushing out to work, let me tell you that, simply, I LOVE THIS PLACE! It's
idiotically friendly, charmingly (and proudly) English in a 'budget holiday
park - prefab housing - formica tables and mismatched crockery' kind of
way and it's home to the world's greatest navigators... no, not the USAF or
the RAF although they do call this home... I'm talking about impossibly huge
giant green turtles. So that's it. That's all you need to know - I'm leaving
tomorrow morning reluctantly but knowing that St Helena, the next stop and home
for most of the inhabitants of Ascension Island (they call themselves Saints!),
is reputedly just as friendly, equally as welcoming, greener (not in a
'bleeding heart Liberal, save the planet' sort of way but in
a, well, 'more green' sort of way!) and better equipped for cruising
yachts.
I arrived on the anchorage on Saturday afternoon
and while bimbling around trying to get into shallower water, I was slightly
alarmed to see waves breaking directly ahead on what looked to me like to the
top of a rocky outcrop. I still had eight metres under the keel so it seemed a
bit odd. Not as odd as watching the rock swim away though! In fact, the rock
indignantly looked up at me as it fled and having been alone at sea for just
over two weeks, I had to question my mental condition. It was of course a giant
turtle, as I said, about the size of an upside-down wheelbarrow. Quite by
chance, and with absolutely no prior research, I had stumbled on this tiny,
remote speck in the South Atlantic at exactly the right time of year to witness
the nesting season for the protected green turtle. They're absolutely huge; up
to 1.5 metres long and weighing as much as 300kg! That they choose to come here
to mate and nest every three or four years is, in itself, pretty unfathomable.
That they make the 2000km trans-Atlantic return voyage from brazil is absolutely
baffling. Scientists cannot agree on how they navigate so accurately but having
arrived, they mate, mooch around the shallows off of the many sandy beaches by
day and come ashore at dusk to dig huge holes in the sand in which they bury up
to about 120 golfball-sized eggs. Last night, after an incredible day in which I
climbed to the top of Green Mountain, Ascension's highest point at 2817', I'd
watched one of the turtles digging her hole just as daylight started fading.
From there I spent the evening on the USAF base but when I returned to the
'Pierhead', it was a moonless and cloudy night, I couldn't even see
Canasta on her anchorage and a huge swell was breaking on the basalt
rocks that seemed terrifyingly close. It was obvious then that it would be too
dangerous to try and get back to the boat particularly as I'd still not fixed
the outboard motor since sinking it in Cascais (Actually, having stripped it
twice, checked the ignition, checked the fuel flow, checked everything, I
accidentally splashed some fuel on my face as I removed the pipe to the
carburettor this morning. When I tasted salt water - not fuel, I realised then
that in fact, water had got into the fuel container as well as the tank on the
outboard and the problem revealed itself quite by accident. It's now fixed.
Well, I've now bought undiluted fuel and it runs beautifully!). Anyway, I've
digressed. So yes, faced with a night sleeping in the car I'd hired for the day,
I decided to head back to the long beach (called 'Long Beach') where it would be
nice and quiet. My uncomfortable night was justly rewarded at stupid-o'clock
this morning when I was privileged to get within a couple of metres of a
particularly big turtle as she made her way out of the nest and dragged herself
to the thundering surf of the Atlantic. It was just me, crouched in one of the
abandoned nests and this enormous turtle in the early morning half-light. I
could see the vague shadows of a couple more turtles in the distance but at that
moment, I was David Attenborough (or is it Richard, I'm not sure?) witnessing a
rare moment and one that I will not forget for a lifetime. It was made
particularly poignant by the fact that I expected nothing more than a bunch
of Yanks, a few Squaddies, a runway and a baron landscape. I've been lucky
enough to see some pretty unusual animals and wildlife on this voyage so far but
they were all predictable, all exactly where you'd expect to see them
and many of them exploited for the tourist trade. Here on Ascension, the
turtles are a valued but accepted part of the ecological system that
the islanders are justly proud of without being intrusive. There's virtually no
tourism here as there are no commercial flights. It is possible to fly on one of
the military flights but it's prohibitively expensive and besides visiting
yachts, the only other way to get here is on the RMS St. Helena. So, information
is limited to a few well placed printed signs and some simple leaflets available
from the customs office but it's enough. It's enough information with which to
travel unrestricted around the island enjoying, knowledgably, some of the
extraordinary geological features, birdlife, history and views that are in such
abundance. For me, I'll be honest, it is perfect and a highlight of the voyage
so far (I know I keep saying that!).
NASA came here to test their Lunar Roving
Vehicle 'Moon Buggy' and even established Ascension's 10,000' long runway
as an emergency diversion for the Space Shuttle. To say that the
landscape is 'Lunar' would be predictable then but no less applicable. It is
absolutely extraordinary. Green Mountain dominates the skyline but not only is
it high, it is an oasis of lush greenery on an otherwise bleak, treeless, rocky
terrain of basalt lava flows, scoria cones, trachyte, rhyolite, pyroclastic
deposits, fumaroles and lava tubes... Hey, guess whose been reading the 'Geology
of Ascension Island' leaflet! Weird, weird, weird. I was able to drive much of
the way to the summit of green Mountain but even the drive was an adventure. The
rough road snakes around impossibly tight, precipitous turns as far as a carpark
from where it's necessary to walk (I'd been on the boat for well over two weeks
and was grateful for the exercise!). The path then becomes narrow and steep. In
places, because of the constant humidity and the clouds that usually cling to
the side of the mountain, the path has been upgraded with wooden planking as it
narrows through the bamboo that was introduced in the 19th century. Yesterday
was perfectly clear and sunny thankfully. On reaching the top, there is a Dew
Pond and a rusty anchor chain that according to legend, was wielded by Naval
'Miscreants' as a punishment with the belief that it might somehow "Change
the electricity in the clouds" and induce the rain that was in such short
supply. Needless to say, the view was absolutely astonishing and well worth the
climb although I'm aching today!
So far then, I can't fault Ascension Island. Ah,
yes I can - This is a major communications and relay centre for the BBC World
Service, VT Communications and Cable & Wireless. I've even been listening to
live broadcasts of Premiership football, rugby, English news and music on BFBS!
The aerials are unbelievably huge, imposing structures dotted around the
north of the island adding to the surreal feeling that the landscape conjures
up. No, that's not the fault; it's unsightly but functional. No, in Gambia,
a country that has not yet discovered the Credit Card, I travelled into the
heart of West Africa and the signal on my mobile phone was uninterrupted. Here
on Ascension, nothing! So, if you've sent me an SMS message or left a voicemail,
it will have been three weeks since I last checked and will be another two weeks
before I reach land again. Besides that rather pedantry complaint then, I have
enjoyed Ascension more than I expected to - far more. My impression was
galvanised by the unexpected friendliness of the local and migrant inhabitants.
Even driving around, not a single car passed without an obligatory wave. In the
cafes, shops and even just walking around Georgetown, everyone waves, smiles and
offers greetings with a genuine warmth that I have never before witnessed in my
entire life. Even on the USAF base, I'd been watching a game of Baseball (it's
just 'Rounders' with baseball caps and big gloves from what I can tell) and even
the enormous, tattooed, shaven-headed Neanderthal Marines made a point of
welcoming me. Talking to Mervyn at the car hire company, it seems that this
isn't attributed to the fact that I was clearly a tourist as I thought it might.
It is intrinsic to the St Helenians; the 'Saints', and their infectious sense of
community that has been adopted by the military and civilian migrant workers.
Saints have such a mixed heritage that it's impossible to classify them
as having specific origins. They are proud to be British but have the appearance
of, I don't know, South Americans maybe; dark skinned, dark hair, big
arses! The language is essentially English although it is administered at
machine-gun speed with colloquial variations that make it impossible to follow.
Most go home to St. Helena once a year but the journey takes three days on the
RMS St. Helena ship that serves as a lifeline to the island (it has no
airport... yet).
Okay, so that's it for now. I'm not looking forward
to the next leg which although it's only 700Nm (in a straight line - I'll have
to head due south then due east so in reality, it'll be a lot more than that),
is going to be more gruelling beating into the wind and waves. I expect it
to take ten or twelve days, maybe a bit less, but I'll keep you updated of
course. I dived under the boat yesterday to check the prop as, if you remember,
I mentioned a worrying noise when the engine is in gear. Well, I wasn't able to
check very closely as the boat was rocking dangerously on the swell but I could
see that the cone anode on the prop is completely missing. It was replaced in
April so I wouldn't expect it to have corroded yet but I'm afraid it's fallen
off and the noise is evidence that the damage to the bearings is already done. I
might be wrong. I hope I'm wrong. Anyway, I'm in the trade winds now so I
shouldn't need to use the engine other than to charge the batteries. I've
already been in touch with my new friend Tim from Durban who I met in Gambia and
he's making arrangement to have her lifted out and checked in Cape Town. She'll
be ready for a fresh coat of antifoul by then anyway and I'll take the
opportunity to fit a generator and attend to one or two much smaller issues.
Generally though, she's coping amazingly well with the conditions as I've
been driving her quite hard - asking a lot of her. Ooh, a ketch has just arrived
on the anchorage! I was told that only about thirty yachts stop here each year
and with very few exceptions, they're all heading north - the easy
way!
Bye for now then. More in a couple of
days...
Bee
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