Isles of Scilly, England
The daily program stated that the Isles of Scilly consisted of more than 100 granitic islands and skerries or reefs and yet the total land area was barely six square miles. That seemed to be an outrageous claim until we came and saw for ourselves. In reality islets and rocky reefs predominated with only a cluster of eight or so large islands. Stories abound of these treacherous shores and ship’s lives lost, of mastheads drifting onto the sands and plunder of precious cargo. And yet, in spite of the danger of hidden shoals, our vessel neatly slipped into the midst of the archipelago and anchored midway between the Isles of Tresco and St Mary’s. Thank goodness for modern navigational tools and the skills of our officer staff!
Academically we knew the position of these islands in the path of the warm Gulf Stream should give them an advantage weather-wise over the rest of the British Isles. And thus we should have been prepared for a perfectly sunny day. In spite of this we still expressed great surprise and joy to discover short-sleeve temperatures and clear blue skies.
Tresco stood out from the rest with tall and majestic trees giving its countenance a ragged look. But on shore the land was far from unkempt. Remnants of walls and arches from a thousand years ago formed the base for an immaculate and thoughtfully designed set of gardens, themselves more than one hundred and fifty years old. There were a few familiar floral forms but many more were exotic species from subtropical countries around the world. How many of us before today had seen or thought of petals in shades of shining green or mysterious black? In places water glistened in reflective pools. Frozen in time and bronze “The Tresco Children” danced against the sky while Gaia or Mother Earth, in polished marble, serenely looked on. In Valhalla, the silent sentinels, mastheads, ornately carved and well preserved, stood waiting for sailors who would never return to ghostly ships. We wandered in the gardens gazing at these treasures and then stretched our legs with a quick circuit of the southern island in search of the avian inhabitants of today.
St. Mary’s was different. In fact, it housed a bustling village, served by a very active ferry fleet. Some of us chose to stay in town, to visit the shops or The Mermaid Pub. Others struck out for the rounded granitic spires of Penninis Point, stopping now and then to inhale the colors of native wildflowers and to search for the singers of melodious tunes. Adventures require explorations and some of us did a little of that too rounding the Point to discover the remnants of the original harbor on the island. The ground was sodden in the moors where cane and rushes grew, their lushness nearly hiding myriads of yellow iris growing in between. Boardwalks protected our feet from the muddy mire and from rivulets and ponds. Colorful ducks posed near the banks. But back at the shore town life hastened on.
Bishop Rock stands alone on the western fringes of the islands. Its faithful light welcomes travelers from across the sea, its glimmer the first sign of land. As we skimmed near the lonely tower reaching fingerlike toward the sky, it seemed to wink a goodbye. We had safely navigated the Isles of Scilly.
The daily program stated that the Isles of Scilly consisted of more than 100 granitic islands and skerries or reefs and yet the total land area was barely six square miles. That seemed to be an outrageous claim until we came and saw for ourselves. In reality islets and rocky reefs predominated with only a cluster of eight or so large islands. Stories abound of these treacherous shores and ship’s lives lost, of mastheads drifting onto the sands and plunder of precious cargo. And yet, in spite of the danger of hidden shoals, our vessel neatly slipped into the midst of the archipelago and anchored midway between the Isles of Tresco and St Mary’s. Thank goodness for modern navigational tools and the skills of our officer staff!
Academically we knew the position of these islands in the path of the warm Gulf Stream should give them an advantage weather-wise over the rest of the British Isles. And thus we should have been prepared for a perfectly sunny day. In spite of this we still expressed great surprise and joy to discover short-sleeve temperatures and clear blue skies.
Tresco stood out from the rest with tall and majestic trees giving its countenance a ragged look. But on shore the land was far from unkempt. Remnants of walls and arches from a thousand years ago formed the base for an immaculate and thoughtfully designed set of gardens, themselves more than one hundred and fifty years old. There were a few familiar floral forms but many more were exotic species from subtropical countries around the world. How many of us before today had seen or thought of petals in shades of shining green or mysterious black? In places water glistened in reflective pools. Frozen in time and bronze “The Tresco Children” danced against the sky while Gaia or Mother Earth, in polished marble, serenely looked on. In Valhalla, the silent sentinels, mastheads, ornately carved and well preserved, stood waiting for sailors who would never return to ghostly ships. We wandered in the gardens gazing at these treasures and then stretched our legs with a quick circuit of the southern island in search of the avian inhabitants of today.
St. Mary’s was different. In fact, it housed a bustling village, served by a very active ferry fleet. Some of us chose to stay in town, to visit the shops or The Mermaid Pub. Others struck out for the rounded granitic spires of Penninis Point, stopping now and then to inhale the colors of native wildflowers and to search for the singers of melodious tunes. Adventures require explorations and some of us did a little of that too rounding the Point to discover the remnants of the original harbor on the island. The ground was sodden in the moors where cane and rushes grew, their lushness nearly hiding myriads of yellow iris growing in between. Boardwalks protected our feet from the muddy mire and from rivulets and ponds. Colorful ducks posed near the banks. But back at the shore town life hastened on.
Bishop Rock stands alone on the western fringes of the islands. Its faithful light welcomes travelers from across the sea, its glimmer the first sign of land. As we skimmed near the lonely tower reaching fingerlike toward the sky, it seemed to wink a goodbye. We had safely navigated the Isles of Scilly.
