Isles of Scilly
Slowly sinking into the sea, the Isles of Scilly seemed to be no more than an illusion on the horizon as the sun and wind pushed us from the east early this morning. Bathed by the warm Gulf stream the one hundred or so granitic islands and islets sit isolated but not uninhabited.
Here history and mystery merge and invite one to explore. Explore carefully however, for access by the sea is wrought with danger still today. The bones of hundreds lie beneath the waves. Was it true that early inhabitants lured vessels to these shores or was it simply the island’s unexpected presence far from England’s coast that unwittingly provided provisions to one and all? Would the “search for longitude” have been a priority if Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell had not led four ships of the British Fleet into the rocks here in 1707? Now Bishop’s Rock lighthouse stands alone, flashing a warning to one and all.
Scanning the rocky profiles of the islands, large and small, one stands out as different. Tall trees soften the silhouette of Tresco Island and it is to here that we are drawn. Sculpted granitic outcroppings stand like building blocks along the shore, their shapes mirrored in the remains of St. Nicholas Priory.
If one used vegetation alone to tell us where we were we would have been confused indeed. Lush greens in every shade emphasized the brilliance of eye-catching floral displays. New Zealand, African, Mediterranean and South American species merged creating a habitat for a plethora of birds. One might wonder how it was in days before airplanes and reliable mail, plants and cuttings could arrive on these distant shores. It seems island archipelagos naturally breed mariners who venture far and wide. What better gift could they bring Augustus Smith, landholder in 1834? Cultivation was not as easy as one might anticipate.
Our day was warm and sunny and tropical flora seemed appropriate. But winter winds blow cold and gales whip the waves misting the islands with harsh salt spray. It took some thought and planning to prepare a living garden wall tall enough to deflect the wind away. Dense and spiky, thick and prolific, a ring of gorse was planted as the first barricade against the furious sea. Unloved almost everywhere else, Rhododendron ponticum prospered as the second defensive tier. Pine and cypress completed the enclosure and a microhabitat was formed. Outside the “walls” bracken and heather blanketed the hills and pheasants foraged in cultivated garden plots.
The Isles of Scilly are the first land spotted by many as they cross the wide Atlantic. Today they were the last we saw as we set out bound for Ireland.
Slowly sinking into the sea, the Isles of Scilly seemed to be no more than an illusion on the horizon as the sun and wind pushed us from the east early this morning. Bathed by the warm Gulf stream the one hundred or so granitic islands and islets sit isolated but not uninhabited.
Here history and mystery merge and invite one to explore. Explore carefully however, for access by the sea is wrought with danger still today. The bones of hundreds lie beneath the waves. Was it true that early inhabitants lured vessels to these shores or was it simply the island’s unexpected presence far from England’s coast that unwittingly provided provisions to one and all? Would the “search for longitude” have been a priority if Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell had not led four ships of the British Fleet into the rocks here in 1707? Now Bishop’s Rock lighthouse stands alone, flashing a warning to one and all.
Scanning the rocky profiles of the islands, large and small, one stands out as different. Tall trees soften the silhouette of Tresco Island and it is to here that we are drawn. Sculpted granitic outcroppings stand like building blocks along the shore, their shapes mirrored in the remains of St. Nicholas Priory.
If one used vegetation alone to tell us where we were we would have been confused indeed. Lush greens in every shade emphasized the brilliance of eye-catching floral displays. New Zealand, African, Mediterranean and South American species merged creating a habitat for a plethora of birds. One might wonder how it was in days before airplanes and reliable mail, plants and cuttings could arrive on these distant shores. It seems island archipelagos naturally breed mariners who venture far and wide. What better gift could they bring Augustus Smith, landholder in 1834? Cultivation was not as easy as one might anticipate.
Our day was warm and sunny and tropical flora seemed appropriate. But winter winds blow cold and gales whip the waves misting the islands with harsh salt spray. It took some thought and planning to prepare a living garden wall tall enough to deflect the wind away. Dense and spiky, thick and prolific, a ring of gorse was planted as the first barricade against the furious sea. Unloved almost everywhere else, Rhododendron ponticum prospered as the second defensive tier. Pine and cypress completed the enclosure and a microhabitat was formed. Outside the “walls” bracken and heather blanketed the hills and pheasants foraged in cultivated garden plots.
The Isles of Scilly are the first land spotted by many as they cross the wide Atlantic. Today they were the last we saw as we set out bound for Ireland.
