Time to complete the Bucket List

I would have walked 500 miles yesterday to achieve the things we experienced on Alexander Selkirk Island, but that was yesterday! After today’s so called ‘moderate’ hike you have got to be joking. I’m exhausted. Long walks of discovery are now off my agenda! Up and up we climbed today, and then up some more.

Each morning the ship’s nicely-presented ‘Chronicle’ two-pager arrives under our cabin door. This provides us with the daily schedule and how to prepare. There were three options today: an uphill 3-hour strenuous walk (think I’ll give that a miss); a history walk around the town (interesting); or ‘a moderate nature and botany walk uphill to Plazoleta el Yunque, a 2.5 mile roundtrip. The latter sounded just my cup of tea. 

Before explaining what we did get to know about this island, I would just like to say, our steep walk upwards was never ending. I saw a peak in front of us, not realising that was where we were heading.

I read a notice along the way which said: “Easy access trail where one can appreciate diverse types of vegetation” – not if you’re gasping for breath. It continued: “It also has an internal circuit where native forest is predominant with examples of eucalyptus, ferns, gunnera, cinnamon trees, and (the highly invasive non-native Chilean wineberry) maqui.” 

I was almost on my knees when we reached a campsite. I was in no fit state to put up a tent even if I had wanted to. Here we discovered the internal (or infernal) circuitous boardwalk. It seemed the obvious route to take, but we had no idea where it was taking us. There weren’t any signs. Having struggled uphill, we walked round and round ducking under branches and watching our step on the slippery boards as we went. Eventually, we reached the campsite again… and, well what to do next but take the steep walk back down. 

However, it was not to end there. There were several other sites for us to see once we got back to our original landing point some hours later. Before I touch on those there is something important to say about Robinson Crusoe Island, as alluded to in the previous posting.

Remember the name Alexander Selkirk, the Scottish buccaneer? He actually arrived in 1703 on what was then known as Isla Más a Tierra, later named Robinson Crusoe Island. He never set foot on Más Afuera (later known as Alexander Selkirk Island).

His ship was the Cinque Ports. The story goes that, upon arrival at Isla Más a Tierra, he quarrelled with his captain Thomas Stradling, complaining the ship had a leaky bottom. He is said to have retorted that he would rather stay on the island than sail with the ship. The captain took him at his word, and left him there.

It is said that Selkirk remained on the island for almost five years until he was rescued by an English sea captain Woodes Rogers, who commented that he looked more rugged in animal skins than the island goats themselves. It is further said that the story inspired Daniel Defoe to write the book Robinson Crusoe, although that is based in the Caribbean and his character was marooned for 28 years.

It seems that Selkirk’s judgement was correct. The Cinque Ports ship later sunk off Colombia.

After that stage in its history, the island is considered to have been inhabited by pirates (and some, it seems, remain today. More about that later). There have also been reports of buried treasure dating back to the 1700s and hunters have scoured the island in search of this ever since.

By the 1800s the Juan Fernández archipelago came under the governance of Chile. In the 1900s the islands became a penal colony housing, particularly, political prisoners. In 1966, in an attempt to capitalise on the tale, the Chileans renamed Isla Más a Tierra as Robinson Crusoe Island thus raising (conveniently) the interests of passing tourists.

This volcanic island itself is considered to be up to four millions years old; is the largest island within the Juan Fernández archipelago; and has the largest population of around 1,200 people and rising, with 120 school children.

An important economic source for the community is fishing, especially for the spiny lobster. It is believed 98% of the fish are endemic, and of the 200-plus plant species found on the island, half are endangered or rare (including the cabbage tree). In addition, there are two highly invasive plants, the mora (wild blackberry) and the maqui (another berry-producing plant). These are taking over where native plants grow, and that in turn has a detrimental effect on the animals, birds and insects that live there.

Official steps are being taken to redress the balance and at the start of our climb we visited a seed bank where a gentleman showed us around. So far seeds from 70% of the plants have been collected – the aim is to achieve 100% – and to discover how best to propagate them.

It is hoped these actions will safeguard, particularly, the critically endangered firecrown hummingbird, which is native to this island only. The bird depends on some of the island’s equally-endangered plant species. We were lucky enough to see one with the help of the birders on board who were hunting amongst the trees.

The island also has a lot of history, especially from World War One. The German ship SS Dresden arrived at the island in 1915 trying to evade British warships. It was cornered by the HMS Glasgow and HMS Kent and the merchant cruiser Orama. The ships opened fire, and the captain subsequently scuttled her. The ship is at the bottom of the ocean, but what can be seen is a shell hole in the cliffs. We walked to that site and saw the hole. Nobody told us if the unexploded shell was still in the cliffs. It certainly didn’t look as if it had been removed, and who would attempt that?

Also to be seen are several caves near the shoreline. These housed political prisoners in the 1800s, and maybe it is possible Alexander Selkirk frequented them during his stay in the 1700s.

But a fitting end for our exhausting day, and what was almost the finale of our cruise of discovery, was a party held for us by the people of the island. We didn’t meet any Alexander Selkirk lookalikes but we did meet quite a few pirates, who were most welcoming and happy to share their booty.

Copyright: Words and photos Sue Barnard 2022

“I would walk 500 miles and I would walk 500 more,” as the Proclaimers and many others have sung since the 1980s. But I would sail 1530 nautical miles (about 1800 miles) from Easter Island to Alexander Selkirk Island to experience what we did today!

Alexander Selkirk Island (previously named Más Afuera) is part of the Juan Fernández archipelago, which also includes the Robinson Crusoe and Santa Clara islands.

Isla Alejandro Selkirk (as it is known to Chileans) is around 400 miles off the coast of Chile. It is just 7 miles long by 4 miles wide and is visually outstanding with its sharp volcanic peaks reaching up 5,500 feet above sea level. These peaks are most often covered in cloud, providing dampness which enables grass and some trees to grow. There is a small sandy landing point on the east side of the island.

Unfortunately we were prohibited from landing – and for good reason. There are a few Chilean people who live on the island during the lobster fishing season. These are mainly the lobster fishermen and their families. Medical support is limited and there isn’t a hospital. Consequently, if the residents caught any illnesses from curious and (let’s be honest) few tourists, especially in these times of Covid, this could have devastating effects.

Instead, never to be put off, we departed our ship and sailed around part of the island in our Zodiacs, which gave us sufficient insight of the inhospitable, as well as interesting, conditions.

But, before I expand on these, a little about the history. The Juan Fernández archipelago was discovered in the 1550s by Spanish navigator named (unsurprisingly) Juan Fernández. He received a grant to live in the archipelago and with this he stocked the islands with goats and pigs. He stayed for some years and when he left other visitors were rare because of the remoteness and difficult land.

Now, in case you are wondering who was Alexander Selkirk after whom the island is named, this is where it gets tricky. Stick with me on this. Selkirk was not of Chilean descent, but a Scottish buccaneer of the 1700s. What might be found puzzling is that he never came onto this island. Instead, he was marooned on the nearby Más a Tierra, which in 1966 was renamed Robinson Crusoe Island. “But why?”, I hear you ask. 

It was thought that Daniel Defoe based the character in his book of the same name on Alexander Selkirk. “But why?”, I hear you ask again. Well you will have to wait for the explanation in the next posting as we will soon be heading to Robinson Crusoe Island. 

What I can say, however, is that the reason Más Afuera became Alexander Selkirk Island, and Más a Tierra became Robinson Crusoe Island was that the Chileans decided in 1966 that a renaming of the islands would attract tourism. Ironic really when we were not given permission to land as tourists onto Alexander Selkirk island. 

So with that totally clear, onto our visit. The archipelago is an ecoregion (defined as such for its natural features). It has a very large amount of rare and endemic sea life, birds and plants.

Studies involving more than 200 hours of diving, plus drone flying, discovered how vast and important this region is. Thousands of urchins were seen around Alexander Selkirk Island, plus yellowtail jack fish, moray eels, 12 species of crab, starfish and two rare species of shark – the shorten mako and blue shark.

Research has discovered 285 native plant species in the archipelago, almost half are endemic. The trees that do exist tend to be tree ferns.

Amongst the birdlife are the pink-footed shearwater and two petrel seabird species – the Stejneger’s and Juan Fernández. Both are considered vulnerable and are the only known breeding populations in the world.

Also found in the region have been the endemic Juan Fernández fur seals. Some sources claim a census in 1797 estimated there was up to three million fur seals in the archipelago. However, numbers were devastated later due to pelt, blubber and meat hunting. It was not until 1965 that this seal species was rediscovered and since, due to marine protection, has grown significantly in numbers but not to the levels of the past.

Today, much of the fishing in the area is restricted and this includes the lobster, which is the main source of revenue for the local people. But, while much is being done to protect these waters, something that is difficult to hold back is the infiltration of microplastics. As if it is not bad enough that we see plastics in our ocean, the microplastics cannot be seen with the naked eye. Even in what looks like a pristine environment, research in these waters has found concerning levels of microplastics.

So on to our trip on the Zodiacs. This was around parts of the island where we viewed two wrecked ships, endemic seals that sat and looked at us or swam around inquisitively close by, ragged inhospitable cliffs, and local people in their fishing boats. 

However, the absolute highlight for me as our Zodiacs constantly bobbed up and down, and one for which I would have (possibly) walked those 500 miles, was an expected close-up view of an Ancanthaster starfish. These are most unusual and not what one would expect a starfish would look like. It is worth looking up, but from the images it seems there are many different species in a wide range of shapes and colours. Because of the wide variety it was difficult (well impossible) to identify just which my brown version with at least 20 tentacles was, but perhaps, just perhaps, it could have been an unidentified new species! Sadly, I guess I’ll never know, but what an opportunity today’s expedition provided.

Copyright: Words and photos Sue Barnard 2022

We never thought 22 years ago that we would be returning to Easter Island, but after 2,760 nautical miles (almost 3,200 land miles) from Tahiti, and 14 days, we had arrived. 

Our previous trip to Easter Island in 2000 was an extension to a tour we carried out travelling the length of Chile. Easter Island’s history had intrigued us over the years and having gone all the way to Chile, it seemed a sensible choice to take advantage of our location and fly there from the mainland.

The island is a province of Chile. One source I read said: ‘This is a small island in the South Pacific and one of the most isolated places in the world’. But hey, they had obviously not seen some of the islands we had just visited. They are – what I call – remote!

During our previous visit we toured the island with a delightful and knowledgeable female guide. We wondered if she was still guiding and if we would come across her again. But what were the chances?

The island is in the shape of a triangle, 14 miles long by 7 miles wide. Its highest point is almost 2,000 feet being Mount Terevaka. Easter Island is known for its statues, referred to locally as moai. They represent the heads and bodies of the islanders’ ancestors.

Evidence of human habitation is considered to date back to 600 AD. The island was later named by a Dutch expedition led by Jacob Roggeveen, who it is said arrived on Easter Sunday, calling it Paaseiland, or Easter Island. However, to the inhabitants it is Rapa Nui (or Great Rapa). Captain Cook landed here in 1774. 

Since 1935 the island has been a National Historic Monument, and almost 50% of the land is a national park which was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1995. Most of its residents are of Polynesian ancestry rather than, what might have been expected due to its governance, Chilean. However, Spanish is the main language spoken.

The land is volcanic and has in recent times suffered from increasing coastal erosion due to rising sea levels. Unlike on some islands we have passed through this isn’t so much an issue for breeding birds, but it has threatened the precious historic archeological sites containing the moai.

The island has around 1,000 statues, carved from the nearby volcanic rock. Some people have spent their lives examining them, one being Edmondo Edwards whose passion for archaeology started when he was 12 years old and as far back at 1957 his interest in Rapa Nui grew. We were privileged to have his daughter Alex as one of our Expedition Team, who was able to speak in depth about the archaeology and even the cosmos that surrounds it. 

The age of the moai is rather more recent that one might have thought, being dated between AD 1100 and 1650, depending on research sources. They are believed to represent ancestral chiefs descended from the gods. They held supernatural powers. They are scattered across the island, some erected on temple platforms (ahu) and along the coast mainly facing inland to watch over the people (as pictured above). They range from 8 feet in height and one is as much as 70 feet high. The latter was unfinished. Perhaps the creator thought it was not such a good idea after all, for it would have to be moved into position and erected.

We are fortunate that evidence remains of how these were created – initially in situ. The first step was to carve out the basic image in a horizontal position, from the local volcanic rock. A ‘keel’ (being attached un-carved rock under the back of the moai) would be left in place until the statue needed to be moved. This keel would then be carved away. 

The next step was to move the statue nearer to its resting place to then carve other parts of the body, including the head detail and the shoulders. Just how they moved them is still being debated, but suggestions are that they could have been shifted horizontally and lying on logs (sounds similar to Stonehenge), toppled vertically (bit risky, one could lose their head), or rolled on their sides down the hill (watch out for passers-by. Ah not a problem, no health and safety committee in those days).

As carving progressed – it is thought this amounted to an industry – finer details were carried out, such as the facial features. Statues that had not reached their final destination did not have eyes. These were carved when the statues were in place. In later versions coral was added to show the eyes more effectively and indicated the statue had vision. Some had the addition of top knots on their heads. These were carved from a red quarry stone.

Many moai can be seen mounted individually or laying down. Some may have fallen, but some may have never got to their final destination. Some were moved by a tsunami in 1960. This was a consequence of the largest earthquake recorded in Chile – having a magnitude of 9.5 on the Richter scale. No human life was lost on the island. Japanese support helped with the reconstruction of some of these valuable historic sites.

Also part of the island’s history was the Birdman Cult. This appears to have commenced after the moai culture. Birds were considered to represent a link between the living and the spirit world. They were the messengers of the gods.

The sooty tern, whose migratory arrival marked the spring equinox and a new beginning in the yearly cycle, was given prominence. A competition was held annually, with leaders of the island’s local clans selecting one man each to represent them.

These representatives would race to swim to a sharp peak at Ongora and climb its craggy surface to retrieve an egg of the sooty tern. The first chief to receive an intact egg from his representative birdman was given power over the island for the year.

Small wooden carvings are still made today of Tangata Manu (the Birdman, seen above). Petroglyphs also illustrate the birdman. Fortunately, the competition is no longer held. The treacherous conditions, which killed many who took part, would not have got the approval of health and safety committees today.

Also still to be seen are the ancient remains of several stone houses, known as hare paenga. The bases were designed in a canoe shape, with two levels inside. A lower level for sleeping and a raised level for cooking. Ovens made from earth contained stones used to retain heat for cooking.

So what of our guide of 2000? With a little time left on the island before we boarded our Zodiacs, we asked around if anybody knew her. “Yes, we do”, we heard with surprise. “She was here this morning!”, but sadly we had missed our one opportunity to see her.

I turned away, disappointed to know that she was still on the island but our chance encounter was not to be. Some beautiful red plants caught my eye and I wandered over to admire them.

Shortly after I heard John calling. “Sue, Sue, come here quickly.” I walked over with some speed, puzzled at the urgency. In front of me was our previous guide – just as friendly and excited as she was 22 years ago.

We showed her photographs we had taken back then of her eating shellfish straight off the rocks, which she still does today.

We heard about her packed life since then and shared with her what we had been up to on our trip. Then our brief time had come to an end and we had to depart. It was a great way to leave our second visit to Easter Island, carrying with us some wonderful final memories.

Copyright: Words and photos Sue Barnard 2022

When we visited Easter Island I didn’t dream that I would be taking to the stage again, and this time as a sole guest dancer with the leading cultural dance group, the Polynesian Kari Kari.

Warning, if there is a dance group performing, don’t sit in the front row! I did, and when a hand headed my way from a rather sumptuous half-naked male professional dancer-cum-warrior with rippling pecs I didn’t have the heart to refuse. Well it would be rude to.

What I didn’t realise was that I was the only one invited and with a short introduction to the hip and arm waggling moves of the female dancers I was on my way to a five-minute performance of Easter Island cultural dance. I waggled and swerved as my partner gyrated every part of his tattooed, glistening, brown body. All rather distracting as I tried to concentrate on my important role amongst the team.

They were obviously impressed with the dancing of this on-board guest and, once my performance had finished, invited other non-suspecting soon-to-be dancing recruits to the stage, including John who too enjoyed putting his limbs to work on the dance floor.

This cultural group’s main objective is to bring back and keep alive the traditional dances and songs of their ancestors including war dances which they carried out with gusto, enthusiasm and entertainment with the women smiling throughout and the men showing us their warrior faces. It was a great evening, quite unexpected and enjoyed by all.

Needless to say, I am now part of a famous South Pacific traditional dance group. Touring starts next year!

Copyright: Words and photos Sue Barnard 2022

As I write this, we are drenched. There were lots of warnings this morning about the difficulties of getting onto our next destination – Ducie Island. One piece of information I read said this uninhabited island is ‘sufficiently off the beaten track to avoid the interest of all but the very determined!’ The more we travel along this mammoth trip from Tahiti to Valparaiso the more determined we are to get onto all our proposed destinations. 

The warnings given today included: wear tough shoes because this would be a very wet landing from the Zodiac inflatable boats into knee-deep water, prior to walking some yards over rocks. Oh – and did we mention – there will be some swell. A bit nerve-wracking as such warnings do not come lightly from the highly experienced Expedition Team. For once I thought: shall I/shan’t I go? I nearly chose the latter but with thoughts that I shall only have this once-in-a-lifetime chance to get onto this remote land, that had the Expedition Team so excited, I just had to attempt it. And while we waited it started to rain… and rain, and rain. 

The fewer numbers than usual who did brave it, managed to land. Particularly helpful was the assistance given by two team members each grabbing one of my arms to ensure I did not fall face first into the ocean. Whoosh, before I knew it, I was off the Zodiac and into knee-deep water – just how those team members keep their balance while trying to stabilise ours, I’ll never know.

Once landed, we removed our rather heavy and wet life jackets and admired the beaches that welcomed us – but not for long. Led by an enthusiastic Expedition Team leader we headed across land to a central lagoon.

But to fill in some detail about Ducie. This is an atoll comprising four islets forming a circle with a lagoon in the centre. The largest (of these very small islets) is Acadia, upon which we landed. The land is impoverished comprising coral rubble and sea shells. Knowing this, one might think that nothing grows, but remarkably it does. Just two plant species survive: the Beach Heliotrope (also known as the octopus bush, photo below) and the Pemphis acidula. There is no soil on this island, the plant roots instead are supported by the dead coral and shell, but fed by water in a similar way to hydroponics. 

Ducie has quite some history, being discovered by a Spanish expedition in 1606 who named it Luna Puesta. It was later visited in 1791 by the HMS Pandora, captained by Edward Edwards, who had been sent from Britain to arrest the Bounty mutineers. He named the island in honour of the 3rd Baron Ducie, Francis Reynolds-Moreton, under whom he had served. It has a chequered history of governance, but in 2010 a new constitution was established that Ducie and the remainder of the Pitcairn Islands would be ruled by a governor designated by the British monarch, hence it is a British Overseas Territory.

Also part of its history is the wreck of the ship Acadia which ran aground in 1881, fortunately without the loss of lives. It is said that on occasions parts of the wreck can still be seen.

In 1989 divers discovered the wreckage and the following year a major expedition to recover its huge anchor took place involving the leading bird man on our ship, Peter Harrison. This turned out to be a major undertaking. The anchor was originally in 20 metres of water, but dragging the mighty beast to its destination on Pitcairn Island resulted in the anchor being dropped, by that stage in 120 metres of water. It eventually got to its resting place, now overlooking the harbour on Pitcairn Island. Moving it up to its very steep final destination on Pitcairn was a feat in itself and took much manpower to achieve.

So back to our activities. Our walk took us from the shore to the central lagoon. This involved walking through vegetation, ducking from the overhead octopus bush branches, while continually watching where we trod. This was not only because underfoot was extremely uneven and loose, but because there are an estimated minimum 500,000 ground nesting seabirds here which are so well camouflaged that it is easy to step on them.

We tip-toed across the land, with all trekkers saying to one another frequently words to the effect of: “Oops, don’t step back, there is a chick behind you,” or “Ooh, look at that little one, it can hardly be seen”. Camouflage at its finest!

Most of the birds we saw nesting were the Murphy’s petrel, of which we must have seen hundreds, many drenched in the rain. This is considered one of the largest colonies of the bird in the world. This Petrel (Pterodroma Ultima) has a wingspan of 35 inches and was described by ornithologist Robert Cushman Murphy in 1949, from which the seabird gained its name.

There was also the beautiful red-tailed tropicbird with its eye-catching bright white body with black flecks when young (pictured below), the masked booby, white terns and great frigatebirds.

Ducie Island is one of the bird breeding success sites. In 1997 a rat eradication programme was undertaken resulting in the elimination of all the rats. Until that time the bird eggs were eaten, and any chicks that did survive did not live more than five days. If this low lying island becomes submerged, as it is predicted to do as water levels rise, the only nearby land for the nesting birds will be Henderson Island, currently rat infested which is why there is a fundraising programme to undertake further rat baiting in 2023/2024.

Studies on the island in the 1990s found a variety of crustaceans including hermit crabs, some of which had not been identified at the time; more than 80 species of molluscs; starfishes, sea urchins and sea cucumbers; and 127 species of reef fishes.

During our walk I spotted a beetle. I asked how that might have arrived at this remote island. One plausible suggestion was that it could have travelled on a piece of drifting wood. To my upset I did not get a photo, although I tried. The beetle scrambled into a shell which I picked up so as to photograph for identification. But the little critter managed to find a shell with a broken base. When I got it to a clearing to take the photograph, it had escaped. To think, it might have been a species that had not be recorded before!

During our voyage we had many discussions of an ecological nature and with it the perils of plastic waste. This island did not have too much plastic (although any is too much, of course). It is not dropped by visitors to the island, but drifts in the sea and is washed ashore. Particularly evident was plastic from fishing sources. Of concern is that some birds gather brightly-coloured pieces for their nests. One piece we found on the shoreline was a clear-coloured straw. Our bird man Peter explained that items such as this are pecked by the birds and then fed to their young who cannot, of course, digest them. Seeing this close up brings to life the dreadful problem of plastic litter. People do occasionally visit these islands to litter-pick.

We then headed back to our inflatable crafts and our awaiting small ship, but not before another soaking! It was worth it, however. Ducie is described as an exceptionally undisturbed atoll and ‘sufficiently off the beaten track to avoid the interest of all bar the very determined’. That’s us!

Copyright: Words and photographs Sue Barnard 2022

Henderson Island really is a gem. Not in the sense of its beauty and lush golden sandy beaches, although it does have these, but because it is so remote and uninhabited that UNESCO considers it of ‘Outstanding Universal Value’. 

It’s the largest of the four Pitcairn Islands (which include Pitcairn, Ducie and Oeno) and lies 125 miles northeast of Pitcairn. The dimensions are 6 miles long by 3.2 miles wide and its centre comprises a plateau up to 30 metres high (almost 100 feet), covered in dense bush and rough coral.

Henderson has very little fresh water, is not suitable for agriculture and has no major landmass. Why then is it a gem in UNESCO’s eyes?

Despite its unfavourable conditions for humans, this island is considered one of the best raised and forested coral atoll ecosystems in the world. Although it is small it has a wide biological diversity, including four endemic species of land birds, large breeding seabird colonies and endemic plants. Its limited amount of human disturbance has provided researchers ideal conditions to study island evolution and natural selection.

Not that it has always been uninhabited. This remarkable British Overseas Territory (as part of the Pitcairn group), is considered to have been discovered by Spanish captain Pedro Fernandez de Quiros in 1606, naming it San Juan Bautista island. However, some sources consider there might have been occupation by the Polynesians as early as AD 800.

In 1819 it was the British East India Company ship, Hercules, that visited and named the island after its Captain Henderson. It was also known for a while as Elizabeth Island after a visit also in 1819 by Captain Henry King of the ship Elizabeth. Today, however, it is known as Henderson Island.

There have been reports of a cave on the island containing evidence of past life including a trough to catch running water, and a fan-shaped shell perhaps used as a utensil, plus ovens and charcoal nearby. Skeletons were also discovered, thought to be the remains of mariners shipwrecked in the area in the 1800s.

Although we disembarked our ship with extremely high hopes as we always did regarding our potential landing, on this occasion it was not to be. We had been warned that landing on the island is ‘extremely difficult’ and required guests to ‘have a good hold, good balance, and to get off the Zodiacs in a swift manner!’.

Despite our willingness, Mother Nature cast her spell. Rough sea around the island made it far too difficult to land. What’s more, the heavens opened leaving us all like drowned rats (a little more about rats later!).

Not to be disappointed, the Expedition Team took us for a Zodiac trip around the island for an hour or so in the pouring rain, during which time we managed to peer from under our jacket hoods at a few surfacing humpback whales.

Nobody complains about the weather on these trips. Those brave enough to venture out on the Zodiacs are keen to see every little bit possible of the planned itinerary!

So now for a little bit of what we might have seen. Apart from enjoying the sandy beaches and the clear seawater with its abundance of fish, crabs and other molluscs, to have ventured into the centre of the island would have been extremely tricky underfoot with its sharp, craggy, coral. But trees and plants have managed to grow, including the beautifully-coloured hardwoods Miro and Tou still used today by the Pitcairn Islanders to make their curios for the tourists. The vegetation from such trees provide good compost for other plants to survive. A survey in 2004 found 71 species of plants, some of which were endemic. Amongst these were ferns and lichen. 

Different areas of this small island contained different plants, depending on whether they were inland or beside particular coastal areas. Although some non-endemics had been introduced by humans, many may have reached Henderson by floating on the sea, or perhaps via birdlife. Bear in mind also that some of these plants have adapted to survive seawater spray and strong winds.

According to the RSPB (the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds), this island has more than 55 species not found anywhere else on earth, including four species of land birds: (all pre-fixed Henderson) being the lorikeet, rail, reed-warbler and fruit dove (to have got to see another of these beautiful birds would have been a treat – oops, slipping into birding mode now).

In 2004 it was estimated there were up to 80,000 pairs of breeding seabirds on this small island. These include the Henderson, Murphy’s and Kermadec petrels, but also an abundance of other birds we have become familiar with – if not always by sight, certainly by name. These include the masked booby, great frigatebird, red-tailed tropicbird and the brown noddy. Butterflies, land snails and insects (how did they get there?), and crabs are also on the land, along with nesting habitats for endangered marine turtles. 

The abundance of birds today has much to do with the eradication attempts of the birding community to kill off the rats which will eat each and every bird egg laid. Our bird expert Peter Harrison told us much about this. On some islands this expensive work had been a total success, but on Henderson it was not. Every rat has to be eradicated, otherwise an island will soon be back with large numbers.

Henderson was not easy for dropping bait. An airdrop could not succeed as bait can land on trees, get wet and then be ineffective. Instead, bait has to be hand dropped by individuals. At the time of our sailing, funds were being sought and it is hoped that another attempt can be carried out in the years to come. Such activities in this remote region cost millions of pounds to achieve.

Despite being absolutely drenched, and right through in John’s case as his new waterproof jacket proved not to be waterproof, we returned invigorated. At least we had tried to get onto Henderson, and like many others before us, did not succeed, but we did see a few whales in the murky distance.

Copyright: Words and photos (unless otherwise stated) Sue Barnard 2022

It was noticeable that Pitcairn was quite different to the previous islands we had visited. There were none of the celebrations, garlands or music to welcome us that we had experienced in the French Polynesian islands. Instead, there were just a few islanders by the quayside, and mostly it was all rather ‘British’.

Perhaps that was not surprising as Pitcairn is a British Overseas Territory. What was different to the other islands was our quayside welcome by Pirate Pawl, a jovial character who cannot be mistaken – each ear contains at least 11 heavy metal rings, and he would certainly not be out of place in a heavy metal band. His enthusiastic welcome ensured everybody was put in the right spirits for a good time. In fact, the spirits did come out later as one crew member managed to recall the next day via a rather hazy memory.

Once ashore, our first step was to hire a taxi. This was a quad bike for three people, including the driver. Although the island is fairly small (2 miles long by 1 mile wide) a taxi was recommended as most walks were steep – either uphill or down. 

There were many facets to Pitcairn for the visitor. Its history is paramount. The places we visited were, mostly, unique. And then there was island life, which had similarities to our own, but in so many ways, very different.

A discussion about Pitcairn cannot avoid its history. Many people will know some of its roots in the stories of the Mutiny on the Bounty. If one wants to delve more into this I recommend the books of Glynn Christian I mentioned in my previous posting. 

Rather briefly, the first recorded sighting of the island was in 1767 when Captain Philip Carteret on the HMS Swallow named it Pitcairn’s Island. In later times Pitcairn became famous as the refuge for the mutineers of the HMAV Bounty, a ship that departed England in 1787 to collect breadfruit trees from Tahiti in order to take them to the Caribbean to be grown to supplement the diet of the slaves. 

The breadfruit seedlings took five months to grow, meanwhile some of the Bounty crew got quite used to the life and the women of Tahiti. When it was time to sail some did not want to leave. This eventually resulted in a mutiny, led by Fletcher Christian. Captain Bligh and some of his men were cast off in a 23 foot heavily-laden launch. They managed to sail more than 4,000 miles to Timor and later to the port of (what is now known as) Jakarta, from which Bligh and his men were transported to Britain.

Meanwhile, the mutineers, along with some Polynesian men and quite a number of Polynesian women, set sail aboard the Bounty to find life elsewhere where the British Navy could not find them. Attempts were made to land on some habited islands, where they were not welcomed and they eventually made it to the uninhabited Pitcairn Island, which was ideally positioned with its huge rocks and difficult landing. The height of the rocks enabled good viewing should invaders attempt to approach. The mutineers made Pitcairn their home, burning the Bounty so that it could not be seen by those searching for them. Remains of the ship can still be seen at the bottom of the ocean, and in the museum.

A sad scenario is that there was a massacre in 1793, four years after the mutiny, when nine of the mutineers and Polynesian men were killed. Four European men remained, with 10 women and their children, all but one born on the island. Life was not particularly in harmony and 10 years after arriving in Pitcairn there was just one of the mutineers remaining, John Adams.

The population in more recent times has varied, but today stands at 35. Unfortunately, Pitcairn still faces difficulties. The older generation is dwindling which causes quite a problem when the supply ships need the manpower to unload their cargoes; and the younger generations leave for further education in places such as New Zealand or Tahiti and don’t come back, sometimes because their prospective partners do not want to live their lives out on Pitcairn. On our trip around the island we visited the school, which had just three pupils. These will soon be leaving for New Zealand and the school will close.

Attempts have been made to encourage families from abroad to permanently move to the island, but this has not been successful. It requires a big culture change. There will be a need to fend for oneself in terms of growing plants for food and catching fish to fill in between the supply ship deliveries. Employment too is restricted to just 40 hours a month, giving a fair share amongst those who desire it. Income is mainly through tourism, selling (some rather nice) crafts, and postage stamps. There is nothing like sending oneself or friends a postcard from Pitcairn, as long as the message is not urgent. Mail, via the supply ships and New Zealand, can take more than four months! For a quicker message Internet is available, but this is limited.

Once on the island we were free to walk around. First stop en route, of course, was the obligatory craft stalls with nicely carved images.

It was interesting to take a look at a map before setting off further afield. This showed some simple, but thought-provoking, place names. These included: John-Catch-A-Cow; Matt’s Fever; Timiti’s Crack; Down The Hole; Big Belly; Break Im Hip; Where Martin Fell; Hill Of Difficulty; Down Rope; Breadfruit Valley, and many more.

Our first choice was to head to St Paul’s Pool – a treacherous-looking sea-fed pool which some people have admitted to swimming in. To reach this point on the island required a 4.5 mile walk down an earthen road. Trouble is, it required a long walk back up (what seemed to be) an even steeper uphill road. A passing quad bike taxi was the order of the day, although John bravely declined. The walk had been worth it as from here we saw a humpback whale breaching the water on several occasions.

We then headed to the museum to see pre-historic flints; items used by ancestors of the mutineers, such as coconut graters; and artefacts from The Bounty including nails and uniform buttons. The ship’s anchor is proudly displayed at the centre of Adamstown, the main area of the island.

Moving north we visited John Adams’s grave. He was the last remaining mutineer and the only one of whom had a recognised grave on the island. He was born in Middlesex, England in 1767 and died on the island in 1829. He was taught to read and write while on the island by a fellow mutineer, using the Bounty’s Bible. In later years he taught the younger people to read and write – all using the same Bible – and also how to tend the land to ensure their future.

From here, in the distance, we could see Christian’s Cave. It is possible to visit close up, but involves a tricky, arduous and steep climb – it is high up on the rock face. It is said that Christian spent a lot of his time here, maybe in contemplation, but also he had a good view of any oncoming ships.

Island life, for some, may seem idyllic, and we certainly had an interesting time. However, as a long term venture on a small island, where everybody actually does know everyone else, life can be more difficult. The Internet and visitors enable the younger generations to see there is a big world off the island. And as one person told me, “There really is no spare time”, whether that needs to be spent on running the community, repairing a building, or ensuring plants for the following months are growing. As we left, that person was off to get food for the evening meal – not from the shop, but by catching fish from the sea.

Copyright: Words and photos Sue Barnard 2022.

Today we were on a mission. We had wanted to visit the Pitcairn Islands for a very long time because of its maritime history and had managed to find one of the few ships that visited here. Our booking was suspended, however, due to Covid.

Now free to travel, we looked forward with excitement to reaching this distant and historic island, but had to wait until just minutes beforehand to ascertain if it was possible for our Zodiac crafts to land. Finally, it was!

Not only did we wait many years to travel, but this was to result in what became a mission. For some time I have known Glynn Christian, the great, great, great, great grandson of Fletcher Christian, the leader of the Mutiny on the Bounty. Some in the UK may recall him from his early days as the New Zealand TV chef, one of the few and early chefs demonstrating on UK television at the time.

He had told me of his association to Fletcher Christian and his research into his family history and the mutiny, and I had told him of our wish to travel to Pitcairn. He asked, if we ever make the trip, could we take some of the books he had written, with us. We willingly agreed.

So the time was excitingly approaching and we met with Glynn just before we left for this trip and he passed over some of his books. These we handled with great care, not wishing to damage them in transit, and most importantly not to lose them on the long journey. We had to change planes three times and go through security three times. We could not risk them going in the checked-in luggage, so put them in the carry-on baggage… prior weight training might have helped at this stage! Every step of the way we checked and checked we had them nearby.

After many days of arriving in Tahiti it was time to travel from our hotel to the dockside in Papeete to board the ship. Our bags were transported separately. “No hand baggage!” we were told. Can you imagine how I felt cutting myself away from these precious books!

A short ride and we were alongside the ship. I glanced down at the baggage lined up for our arrival. With relief I saw the hand baggage was still with us.

We climbed the very high steps onto the ship (not so good for those not liking heights, especially with a view of the sea down below), got on board and after check-in proceeded to our cabin. The luggage on the dockside would be with us soon. 

To my relief bag one arrived (looks promising). Then bag two (great). Then bag three (whoopee). These were all small bags I would add – we travel lightly. We awaited bag four… THE bag! It did not arrive. As panic started to set in I wondered where it was. It was no longer on the dockside, but it was not with us either! I asked for help in locating it.

With great relief it was then found and we could at last relax… well for the time being. For the next nine days we pondered if it would be possible to get onto the main Pitcairn island. Nothing is guaranteed as swell is not so swell at sea and can prevent any landing.

But the day finally came and we did land. Our first stop was to complete our mission – to find the Mayor, the first Lady Mayor in the island’s history. Having fewer than 40 inhabitants on the island it was not difficult to locate anybody. We hopped onto a quad bike taxi as recommended, as it would be all uphill from now on (at least until we were to go steeply downhill). Our driver was a gentleman named Steve, owner of Christian’s Bar and past Mayor himself. He told us he was a distant cousin of Glynn Christian. That is not really surprising. There are very many people with the surname Christian on the island.

Steve drove us straight to the Lady Mayor. She welcomed us and said: “You must be Sue and John. I have been expecting you.” 

Then, with great excitement, we handed over the books, and had detailed discussions as to where they would be placed. This was to involve a future meeting of the Councillors and it was likely the books would be heading to the museum so that they would become part of their archive about the people of the island. Amongst Glynn’s many books published were three written on the island’s history: ‘The Truth about the Mutiny on HMAV Bounty’; ‘Mrs Christian, Bounty Mutineer’; and ‘Fletcher Christian, Bounty Mutineer’. These were the books we delivered.

Mission accomplished? In part, yes. But there was one other important thing to do. When we boarded the ship in Tahiti, the first thing we asked of our Expedition Leader was whether he thought it would be possible to get onto the island and whether we would be able to locate the Lady Mayor. She was expecting us, but where might she be?

The Expedition Leader Gerard said the team would do everything possible to enable us to land and, as this was such a unique and unusual request, asked if I might give a presentation about the mission. I happily agreed.

After the successful landing and tour of Pitcairn Island (I will cover our visit in a future posting) the time came to give the presentation – the only presentation given by a passenger I might add. Having notes and microphone in hand, plus some quickly garnered supporting photos, I gave my speech, not realising how rocky these ships can be when standing on stage. Just how the lecturers maintain their stance for considerable times can only fill me with wonder having attempted this for just a short while. It sure is a balancing act.

I discussed the reasons for our long-awaited trip, the content and significance of the books, and how they will become part of the Island’s history being kept in the archives. The speech over, several people discussed this further with us and something I had not expected was one person’s comment that this report back on the ship had brought an historic story right up to date. “You are now part of Pitcairn’s history,” she said. I had not given that any thought. But what the feedback did show was that even after 233 years the 1789 Mutiny on the Bounty continues to intrigue and fascinate. 

Copyright: Words and photos Sue Barnard 2022

Oeno should be named Oh-no-oh. Our visit today was to the uninhabited island of Oeno, 80 miles from the famous Pitcairn Island and its capital Adamstown.

The plan was to get up early to see the masses of sea birds and then get onto the island to see what it had in store. The Expedition Team set off in the Zodiacs to test the waters. 

The small island is just 0.5 km squared and is encircled by a coral reef which causes big waves to be thrown up all around. There are just two breaks in the reef. One takes water into the shore, and the only way for that water to be expelled is through the other gap in the reef. This results in great rushes of seawater into and out from the shore line which, if not timed well, can be treacherous, lifting the small Zodiacs high above the water surface. 

The island is named after the whaling ship Oeno, whose captain George Worth discovered it in 1824. It is the most western of the Pitcairn Islands group. The excitement to visit is two-fold. 

Firstly, this low-lying island is rarely visited, certainly by other nations apart from the Pitcairn people who sometimes take a break on this remote land. Buildings do not exist. From the ship we can see that Oeno is surrounded by white sandy beaches, but this beauty disguises the fact that there has been at least four shipwrecks, including the Wild Wave in 1858; the Liverpool ship Khandeish heading home from San Francisco in 1875; and the Oregon in 1883. As I sit watching how difficult the Expedition Team is finding the landing, I am hoping we will not be the fifth wreck!

Secondly, Oeno has been designated as an Important Bird Area by Birdlife International due to its colonies of Murphy’s Petrels (one of the largest areas for them in the world), Sooty Terns, Red Tailed Tropic Birds, Herald and Kermadec Petrels, Christmas Shearwaters, Bristled Thighed Curlews, Great Frigates, Spotless Crakes and Brown Noddies. This visit will be ecstasy for the birders on board, and the chance of getting up close and personal will be a thrill for others. 

Due to the importance of this breeding ground anything that may prevent the birds from successfully producing offspring has to be taken seriously. One of the major issues, on this and many of the islands, is rat and mice infestation. Rats will have come from passing ships over the centuries. Some may think this should not be a problem on a desert island… but what do the little critters eat? The answer is bird eggs. On many of the islands that have thousands of nesting birds, the entire eggs may, or usually will be, destroyed by hungry rats and mice.

Oeno is one of the lucky islands. In 1997 on Oeno and Ducie (both part of the Pitcairn Islands group) eradication efforts were carried out using ground-based baiting, ie the hand scattering of pellets. This proved successful and birds, which continue to return to these natural breeding grounds despite their previous egg destruction, have increased vastly in numbers. Our bird expert Peter Harrison tells us that there are estimated to be three million birds on the islands of Oeno and Ducie.

Other islands have not been so successful. On Pitcairn and Henderson eradication attempts have been made but without success. Aerial drops are difficult on islands with trees as by the time the bait has dropped it may be wet and ineffective. There could be crabs which may eat the bait, and on Henderson in 2011 an unusual rise in fruit growth due to a drought the previous year, led to the rats preferring to eat the fruit rather than the bait. There need be only two rats left for the population to increase again quickly. These efforts do not come cheaply. Fundraising amounts to millions of pounds each time baiting takes place.

But back to the Zodiac transportation. The passengers were looking on from afar and were waiting excitedly to hear if they would be able to make the landing. We waited and waited. There was no joy. Then, having had breakfast at 8am, it was suggested we had lunch at 11.30am. The morning trip had been cancelled. We turned back from the decks like sad schoolchildren dragging our feet as we headed to the restaurant to top up our stomachs barely empty from breakfast.

Then we were in luck. The Expedition Team, with the waves settling a little, had made it to the shore. Excitedly, we donned our multitude of clothing, wet weather gear and lifejackets and made our way to the Zodiacs.

Our time had come and our Zodiac driver advised us he was highly experienced at handling these small crafts. Hmmm, we had not had that sort of discussion previously. Why now? I was reassured (a bit), but somehow wondering what was in store. The sea looked fairly calm, but why was I now feeling uneasy? I gripped on tight to the rope that attaches to the side of the rubber Zodiac. As we reached the coral surrounding the island we were told that we were to await a wave to take us in through the gap to the shore. All of a sudden we were quite literally riding on the crest of a wave. Woosh. Before we knew it we were whisked by it to the shore. Phew, we had landed on this rarely trodden island.

And weren’t we in for a treat. As soon as we were on the soft golden sand the birds were flocking above our heads with their large wingspans. The birders were ecstatic. 

We headed along the shore. It was just like one might expect a desert island to be, but we didn’t have our eight records and a gramophone with us. (For those not familiar with this it relates to the BBC’s Desert Island Discs radio programme running in the UK since 1942). 

In the distance was our bird man Peter Harrison who started showing us how to correctly handle birdlife if it was ever necessary. While many may not choose to do so, there may be times when a bird is injured, or in distress. Peter had told us how rather too often a bird, with its plumage wet through by rain, might take time to recover on the deck of a passing ship. He has experienced this often and has taken the bird to dry out in his cabin’s shower room, which could be rather a shock for the cabin crew. Once dried, the birds were set to fly off, which would have been a welcomed rescue as many of these seabirds live their lives constantly in flight apart from when breeding. If their plumage is wet they just can’t fly on.

Peter then got us creeping about in the undergrowth. And it was worth it. There were Petrels nesting on the floor, or their fluffy young were waiting for their next meal. There was such an abundance of birds on the floor that visitors had to be very careful where they stepped.

Beautiful white terns with their clearly-defined dark black eyes and small, sharp, beaks were high in the trees. Oh gosh, I think this birding activity is rubbing off on me. “Look for the bird’s unique characteristics,” I have heard many times recently! The white tern was once known as the fairy tern.

The juvenile Red-tailed Tropicbird, with its white and black plumage, and nestled amongst the undergrowth, is adorable. Interestingly (well I found it so) their feet and beak grow rapidly and outpace the rest of their bodies. The chicks are born blind and until they are a week old their parents will stroke the bill encouraging the chick to feed. An adult’s wingspan can reach up to 47 inches wide and they can dive more than 160 feet to catch fish.

Up, nesting in the tree were Red-footed Boobies with their beautiful long blue beaks. Red-footed Boobies can travel up to 93 miles searching for food and can live for more than 20 years. They are adept at diving – their aerodynamic bodies and the ability to close their nostrils enable them to plunge-dive into the water for fish. Their red webbed feet then help them swim. This species has been known to dive up to 98 feet for a catch.

In masses were the Sooty Terns. These are black with bright white chests. They have a 37 inch wingspan, and inch long pointed black beaks which could give a peck or two. They can stay at sea for 3-10 years, only coming back to breed. Perhaps that is just as well as they are also known as the Wideawake Tern which refers to their loud piecing calls, sometimes referred to as a cacophony. Perhaps not the most considerate neighbours.

Amongst our other sitings were the adult and juvenile Masked Booby; Great Frigate Bird; the Brown Noddy and its eggs; and not to be missed on the shore were the Red Hermit Crabs which inhabit empty shells.

Today really was a birder’s paradise, and apologies for all those species I may have missed out, or didn’t include their photos… better luck next time.

Then it was time to return to the ship, but not before our Zodiac had to battle its way back through the gap in the coral reef. This time the waves were even more forceful. Hanging on tightly with eyes closed (mine and not the driver’s hopefully) we were on the crest of a wave again. The cries from the passengers swiftly changed to sighs of relief. But the chance to see the bird colony even if not a birder, and the opportunity to walk where few had been before, left one speechless.

Copyright: Words Sue Barnard 2023; Photos Sue Barnard and John Cruse 2022

Following our visit to Mangareva we had time on our hands, so after lunch our captain directed the ship to another small island nearby. In truth, this was all timetabled and well-planned – unscheduled stops are not allowed by the marine authorities and appropriately so. 

Aukena is about five miles from Mangareva, and even nearer to that previously-mentioned Totegegie island which houses the airport. This was to be a short visit with none of the welcome celebrations. Today it is a private island (with a short hop to the airport), but access is given to the few tourists that manage to get to the Gambier Islands. It is approximately one mile long and about a fifth of a mile wide. 

Aukena has just a few residents now, but that has not always been so. Archaeological excavations, coupled with oral traditions, indicate the island was inhabited at least in the 14th century. By 1550 it had a district chief, Honu-a-Keroiti. It has also been recorded that the small island became a place where deposed leaders fled in exile. It was the first to house a Catholic church in the Gambier Islands.

The area where we landed was considerably overgrown, just as one might expect an uninhabited island to be. Seeds take root just where they fall, and weaving our way under, over and around the natural vegetation of the forest just added to the experience. Paths didn’t exist in this area and if they once did they were now densely covered. Amongst the many plants were the Pandanus tree with its visible roots above ground, and the flowering wild hibiscus.

Clambering through the undergrowth we came across the ruins of a two-storey seminary which was established to train boys to be priests. This is estimated to have been built in the 1850s and students were taught Greek and Latin for the priesthood. According to excavation reports the bodies of 29 missionary wrapped in white tapa (bark) cloth were discovered buried in a cave nearby.

Other ruins we saw near the seminary included an oven, a press for extracting oil from coconuts, a well and a kiln for producing coral lime which missionaries used in the construction of churches and other buildings. Still standing and in good condition is a watchtower which can be seen when approaching the island. 

As we started to retrace our steps we realised that a slightly easier route might be the shoreline. Even though we were wading knee-deep in water it gave us the opportunity to  appreciate the close-up view of the sea lapping against all the tree roots and the small fishes swimming around our legs, but it was all worthwhile for what we were able to experience.

Then it was time to move on to our next island stop, 300 miles away. 

Copyright: Words and photographs Sue Barnard 2023