Tristan Da Cunha
Early this morning we arrived off one of the most remote island communities in the world. It is over 2000 kilometers north to St Helena and just short of 1500 kilometers east to Cape Town. The island community has Napoleon Bonaparte to thank for its existence. Although discovered in 1506 by the Portuguese navigator who gave this tiny volcanic archipelago its name, it was not successfully colonized until a British garrison was established on the island in 1816 - part of a wider security net around the former emperor in exile on St Helena.
The modern inhabitants are largely descended from that garrison, some half a dozen family names predominating throughout the island's short history. It is a simple but proud community that has made skilful use of the resources of land and sea, latterly by establishing a commercial lobster fishery run on strict conservationist principles. Their circumstances are far from easy as we saw today: the Harbor Master temporarily closed the port because of the growing swell before we had succeeded in transferring all our guests ashore. In 1961, the entire population of 264 was evacuated to the United Kingdom when the volcano dramatically erupted and lava flows threatened to engulf the settlement. Yet, to the consternation of their hosts in the Mother Country, they petitioned successfully to be allowed to return to their beloved island within two years.
The threat to the islanders' way-of-life is now more insidious than volcanic eruptions or armed aggression. Satellite TV is whetting the appetite of the younger generation for life beyond the fishing-boats and potato patches. A money economy, generated by the lobster fishery and by tourism, means that frozen bread from South Africa can be purchased at the island store to save time baking it at home in the oven. The potato patches are now more of a traditional social ritual than a subsistence necessity. We consider ourselves fortunate to have visited the islands now and to have experienced the warmth and generosity of a remarkable community.
Early this morning we arrived off one of the most remote island communities in the world. It is over 2000 kilometers north to St Helena and just short of 1500 kilometers east to Cape Town. The island community has Napoleon Bonaparte to thank for its existence. Although discovered in 1506 by the Portuguese navigator who gave this tiny volcanic archipelago its name, it was not successfully colonized until a British garrison was established on the island in 1816 - part of a wider security net around the former emperor in exile on St Helena.
The modern inhabitants are largely descended from that garrison, some half a dozen family names predominating throughout the island's short history. It is a simple but proud community that has made skilful use of the resources of land and sea, latterly by establishing a commercial lobster fishery run on strict conservationist principles. Their circumstances are far from easy as we saw today: the Harbor Master temporarily closed the port because of the growing swell before we had succeeded in transferring all our guests ashore. In 1961, the entire population of 264 was evacuated to the United Kingdom when the volcano dramatically erupted and lava flows threatened to engulf the settlement. Yet, to the consternation of their hosts in the Mother Country, they petitioned successfully to be allowed to return to their beloved island within two years.
The threat to the islanders' way-of-life is now more insidious than volcanic eruptions or armed aggression. Satellite TV is whetting the appetite of the younger generation for life beyond the fishing-boats and potato patches. A money economy, generated by the lobster fishery and by tourism, means that frozen bread from South Africa can be purchased at the island store to save time baking it at home in the oven. The potato patches are now more of a traditional social ritual than a subsistence necessity. We consider ourselves fortunate to have visited the islands now and to have experienced the warmth and generosity of a remarkable community.
