Saint Helena - The World's Most Useless Airport

Saint Helena, best known as the place where Napoléon Bonaparte was exiled, is one of the world's most isolated islands. Its closest neighbour is Ascension Island, 700 miles to the northwest. Africa (Angola) is 1200 miles to the east and Brazil is 1800 miles to the west. Yet, in a bid to develop self sufficiency, the island (currently very dependent on the UK) has set itself a target of 30,000 tourists per year.

So far, it's been a tortuous path. Before 2018, the island was only served by boats, principally the supply ship RMS St Helena, which took five days each way. That limited tourism to dedicated hikers and retirees. The airport was commissioned in 2011 and completed (at great cost) in 2016. One reason for the delay was that the British decided to fill in a valley 'with some 800 million pounds of dirt and rock', to create flat land for the runway. More importantly, though, it was discovered that planes could not land. because of 'dangerous wind conditions' which made landing large aircraft unsafe. This was dubbed 'The World's Most Useless Airport' and the opposition had a field day in the British Parliament.

But it was quickly realised that it was the 737s for whom the airport had been designed that were the problem. More powerful 757s could land.  So, it was eventually decided to adapt smaller aircraft, with a refuelling stop, in order that a return could be managed, if wind conditions worsened en route. Wikipedia writes that 'only a special, stripped-down Embraer 190 jet with the best pilots in the world can stick the landing. More than one approach is not uncommon.'

You can imagine how much I'm looking forward to this Airlink flight from Johannesburg. St Helena Tourism outlines the unique selling points of the island as nature (whale sharks and wirebirds), Saint culture (safer environment), walking and hiking, diving, arts and crafts, photography, running, history and heritage (Napoleon), stargazing, and food and drink. I hope it's worth it.

Flying to St Helena - The World’s Most Useful Airport

As is so often the way, this flight is nothing like as stressful as the previous day’s journey from Bloemfontein to Johannesburg, when we flew round a thunderstorm. To start with, it’s really friendly. The folk waiting at the airport gate all seem to know each other (other than the odd tourist) and there are hugs and smiles. Russell and Liz are coming out for their winter six month sojourn. They bought a house, a few years ago, having never set foot on the island. Fortunately, they love it here. The governor, Nigel, is returning (he’s sitting in economy), very low key and friendly, unlike other governors I’ve seen on-board planes.

And another charismatic  lady, who’s sitting next to me on board, even hugs the crew. She gets special attention and plenty of wine to quaff. I think I counted 10 glasses. She drinks them two at a time, but still stays sober, it appears. Her name’s Gwyneth and it turns out she’s the airport manager.

So, Gwyneth fills me in on the airplane and crew - six certified pilots trained exhaustively to fly this route and deal with the problematic crosswinds and three of the most senior cabin staff, all very cheerful and dispensing drinks throughout the flight. (As I’ve already noticed). I stick to water. Gwyneth claims, as the planes replace the cargo ship and the already many times used medivac is a lifesaver, that this is now The World’s Most Useful Airport.

We refuel at Walvis Bay, on the Namibian coast. (I can see the giant sand dunes here, as we land. I passed them on the ground twenty years ago.) And the pilot announces that he’s confident that there will be a landing today, at St Helena. He has to finally decide at the halfway point between Walvis and St Helena.

We continue to fly west, so assume we’re going to the island. (By the way, everyone from St Helena simply calls it The Island). The captain (there are two, one for each direction)  says there’s 'A bit of cloud'. It looks like quite a lot of cloud to me. We can’t see much of the land mass, just a rocky promontory (Sugar Loaf) emerging from the east. We fly close to the soaring cliffs and then pop into a gap and over the 1,000 foot high valley. There’s only one bump and we’re there. Huzzah!

Saint Helena - Facts and Factoids

• Saint Helena (pronounced Sinteleena) is one of the three constituent parts of Saint Helena, Ascension and Tristan da Cunha, a remote British Overseas Territory.
• Saint Helena is the United Kingdom's second-oldest overseas territory, after Bermuda.
• St Helena today is ruled by a governor, on behalf of the British monarch
• Saint Helena has its own currency, the Saint Helena pound, which is at parity with the pound sterling
• Saint Helena measures about 10 miles by 5 miles and has a population of roughly 4,000.
• People of the island are known as Saints
• Saint Helena is a volcanic and tropical island, in the South Atlantic Ocean, so the climate of Saint Helena is tropical, marine and mild.
• Saint Helena is famous as the site of Napoleon's second exile, following his final defeat in 1815.
• The national bird of Saint Helena is the Saint Helena plover, known locally as the wirebird, on account of its wire-like legs. It appears on the coat of arms of Saint Helena and on the flag.
• The average (median) annual wage on Saint Helena is around £8,500
• Saint Helena issues its own postage generating an income (hence the large post office). Saint Helena also controls domain names under the top-level domain .sh.
• Traffic in Saint Helena drives on the left and road signs are based on British standards.
• Telecom services in St Helena are comparatively expensive. Once on hotel Wi-Fi though I delighted to find I can access all the BBC channels, with none of the usual blocks when I’m travelling.

Jamestown

Jamestown is, grandly, the capital city of the British Overseas Territory of Saint Helena, Ascension and Tristan da Cunha. It spills down the narrowest of valleys, to the sea, on the northwest (warmer) coast, the historic main settlement of the island. For some time, it was the island's only port and the key to St Helena’s strategic importance. It’s also the centre of the island's road and communications network.

Jamestown was founded when colonists from the British East India Company (BEIC or EIC) settled on the island, in 1659. The first governor, Captain John Dutton, arrived and a fort and houses were built. The town was called Jamestown, ostensibly in honour of the newly restored Royal family. James was then Duke of York, later King James II. He was also a founder of the Royal African Company, which brought the first known cargo of slaves, ever in the world, from Africa, to St Helena.

Jamestown was briefly occupied by the Dutch East India Company, in 1673, before being recaptured. Many of the buildings built by the East India Company, in the eighteenth century, survive and give the town its distinctive Georgian flavour. Some would say it has remained firmly in that era. The town briefly hosted Napoleon in 1815 during his exile on St. Helena and later redeemed itself somewhat, as a base for the Royal Navy's efforts to suppress the slave trade.

There are two pubs, though hardly recognisable as such, with unprepossessing exteriors, and a string of shops along the broad Main Street and narrower Market Street. They have suitably archaic names, like The Emporium. Some establishments have already whole heartedly embraced Christmas, decked within an inch of their lives. Others proudly display shampoo and washing powder, on draped stands, in their windows. There are several gift shops, beauty salons, a DIY and other businesses managed by Solomon’s, one of the island’s well-established families, a supermarket (The Star) and several of those establishments that are an eclectic glory hole of food, drink and other bits and pieces. If you want something you just have to try them all until you find a place that hasn’t yet run out.

The port, with bobbing fishing boats, in the bay, is arrived at through an arch, at the bottom of Main Street. Also in this area, on Grand Parade, St James (of course) the oldest Anglican church in the southern hemisphere (though I’m not sure that isn’t cheating - it’s been renovated and rebuilt a few times). It’s an ugly building with cement walls and very point spires. Opposite, the castle (home to the governor’s office) with more fortifications and arches, the court house and the public library. Hidden in one corner, behind the church (and so, incidentally behind my room) is the prison. Home to 18 inmates currently. I chat to the superintendent, as he brings his shopping back down Main Street. He’s very happy here, reporting that it’s much more peaceful than his last job, in Essex.

Tucked right under the cliff is the St Helena Museum. It’s a galleried building, one of those collections, which is best described as quirky. There’s everything from African spears, to governors uniforms, crockery retrieved from shipwrecks and a dentist’s chair. You’re encouraged to sit on that.

During the day, for most of the time, Jamestown is no rowdier than quiet. In the morning shoppers gather in small knots on the pavement to pass the time of day. Hardly anything moves, after six pm.

Stone and lime walls and ramparts form effective defences above the cliffs, and around the beaches and ports, enabling control over smuggling ‘or illegal free trade’, as it was euphemistically called.) Before the arch (there’s an intricate winching system, to lift off the top where necessary) there was just a small door in the wall here. Small forts sit atop all the strategic peaks.

To each side, of the harbour, lofty cliffs, where the mountains tumble into the sea. To the west, Jacob’s Ladder. Named after the Biblical story (Jacob’s Ladder led to heaven), this is the remains of an 1800s cable railway, up Ladder Hill, to the settlement of Ladder Hill, on the edge of the more built-up area, known as Half Tree Hollow. There were 700 pedestrian steps alongside, used for maintenance and they left those behind when the railway fell into disrepair and was removed. There are 699 now (one was destroyed by termites) and climbing the ladder is on the tourist Must Do List. The record time is 4 minutes 40 seconds. It was set last week, in the annual competition. Snowy tropic birds wheel, pencil thin tails wafting over an almost vertical drop. (I borrowed the tropic bird picture from fellow avid traveller I met at the Mantis, American Dave Greenwell, shown alongside, with his wife Sue).

The Mantis and The Consulate

The island's first ‘luxury’ hotel, the Mantis, opened in 2017, in a converted 'former officers’ barracks on Main Street, in Jamestown (built in 1774). The prices seem reasonable and that's where I'm staying. I’m always pleased to see that they’ve increased, after I’ve booked, by about £300 for the week, this time.

I’m in a lovely wood floored traditional room, with a view of Jacob’s Ladder and the mountain, as well as the back of the old Anglican church. The staff are very friendly and there’s a bar,which serves cocktails, outdoor terraces and a nice looking restaurant. What more could I want?

Four South Africans I meet, in town, are staying at the Consulate Hotel, just up Main Street. This one oozes character. It’s quirky and crammed with memorabilia, pictures of Napoleon and display cabinets replete with china.

A Brief History of Saint Helena

• St Helena was uninhabited (though there were trees and fresh water) when it was discovered by the Portuguese, enroute to the Indian subcontinent.
• Tradition has it the island was named, in 1502, by João da Nova, a Galician navigator, serving the Portuguese Empire, after Helena, mother of Constantine I. But there is some debate about dates and possibilities and there are alternative theories as to who and when.
• For about four centuries, the island was an important stopover for ships from Europe to Asia and back, while sailing around the African continent.
• The Portuguese didn't make any permanent settlement although the Dutch, French and English all took an interest. Eventually, in 1657, Oliver Cromwell granted the British East India Company (EIC or BEIC) a charter to govern Saint Helena. The British led by Captain John Dutton in the Marmaduke arrived at St Helena in 1659.
• It wasn't an easy time. There were tussles with the Dutch and settlers were hard to attract. The population crept slowly up, from 66 in 1670, to 1,110, in 1723 (610 of these were slaves.)
• But colonisation attempts persisted and developed, as the island was so important strategically.
• In the peak era, about 1,000 ships per year, stopped there.
• Chinese labourers began arriving, in 1810, to replace the emancipated slaves.
• Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled here from 1815 to 1821, when he died.
• In 1834, control of Saint Helena passed from the EIC to the British Crown, and it became a crown colony. Subsequent administrative cost-cutting triggered a long-term population decline, fuelled by the fact that steam was replacing sail on the seas and steam ships did not need to follow the trade winds. Then, in 1869, the Suez Canal opened, reducing the number of ships calling into port even further.
• In 1840, Saint Helena became a provisioning station for the British West Africa Squadron, preventing the transportation of slaves (mainly to Brazil ), and many thousands of slaves were freed on the island. These were all African, and about 500 stayed while the rest were sent on to the West Indies or Africa.
• So, over time, Saint Helena has developed a unique culture blending European, African, and Asian influences.
• Two Boer prisoner of war camps were established on the island during the South African wars, vastly increasing the population of the island.
• A local industry manufacturing fibre from New Zealand flax (the island's monocrop) was successfully re-established in 1907 and generated considerable income during the First World War.
• Ascension Island was made a dependency of Saint Helena in 1922, and Tristan da Cunha followed in 1938.
• During the Second World War, the United States built Wideawake Airport on Ascension in 1942, but no military use was made of Saint Helena, except for maintenance of its defences.
• The flax industry ceased operation in 1966. String had to a large extent been replaced by the elastic band. After that the islanders struggled for income and many more left to seek their fortune abroad.
• Emigration to the UK was stemmed, when British citizenship was removed from the Saints, in the 1980s, when the islands were deemed Dependent Territories. The Falkland Islands were for some time the emigrants' destination of choice. Citizenship was then re-awarded, in 2002, when the islands became Overseas Territories. After that, there has been a steady trickle of emigration to Britain. By 2018,Swindon, in Wiltshire, had so many people originating from Saint Helena, it was given the nickname "Swindolena"

Plantation House

A tourist must-do is a visit to the Governor’s residence, Plantation House. The 35-room mansion, built in 1792 during the EIC era was initially only the governor’s residence in summer. It was called Plantation as they grew lots of vegetables there, especially yams. These were used to trade for spices from the ships. There are royal portraits of nearly very monarch, from Victoria onwards, in the foyer. Prince Andrew has been demoted to the bathroom. (The local high school is named after him - he laid the foundation stone) and Edward VIII’s fate isn’t quite as ignominious. He is propped up, on a shelf, in the coffee shop. Princess Anne’s portrait hangs in the General’s Room, where she stayed when she visited. It’s said to be haunted, but the royal guest didn’t have any unusual sightings to report.

It's one of those tours where the guide explains about every object in every room. Fortunately most of them are quite interesting, but it's a lot to take in. Coffee and scones, with cream, are served afterwards - it’s all very British.

The most famous inhabitant of the Plantation House grounds though is Jonathan, a giant Seychellois tortoise. He is at least 192 years of age and is said to be the world’s oldest living land animal. So, he was born during the reign of King William IV. He lives alongside David, Freddie and Emma. (Myrtle and Speedy died a few years ago.) And Jonathan is very lucky to have survived, at all. Tortoises were carried on board ships to provide sailors with fresh meat- but these were spared and left behind.

Napoleon Buonaparte on Saint Helena

The tourist industry on St Helena is, of course, most heavily based on the promotion of Napoleon's imprisonment. Napoleon Buonaparte was put on St Helena, so he couldn’t escape again, and there’s no escaping him either. There’s a statue at the airport and another peering over the balcony of the Consulate Hotel. But it’s a fascinating story, hero or not.

Napoleon’s journey to St Helena, in 1815, took many months. The British were desperate to make sure he didn’t set foot on foreign soil, where he might be able to claim asylum. The EIC were relieved of their duties on the island and Admiral Cockburn was put in charge. They authorities undertook the necessary paperwork, when he arrived (on The Northumberland), in record time. Napoleon spent his first night at Porteous House, the only decent hotel in Jamestown at that time. (It’s now demolished).

Ironically, (great joke), the Duke of Wellington stayed here, when he visited, in 1805. He wrote, to the admiral in charge, of St Helena, in 1816, ‘You may tell Bony that I find his apartments at the Elysee-Bourbon very convenient and that I hope he likes mine.’ There’s nothing like gloating. However, the first part of his story tells that Wellesley (as he was then) had fallen overboard, when he came here, and had to be nursed back to health. So, if it wasn’t for St Helena, the course of history might have been very different.

Briars Pavilion

One night in Jamestown was enough for Napoleon and, for his first few weeks on St Helena, Napoleon was lodged in the Briars, a pavilion in the garden of a merchant’s house. It was built to house officers of the EIC. Napoleon saw it on his way to inspect Longwood, the residence being prepared for him, and was enchanted by the idyllic valley and heart shaped waterfall behind. (No water, today, it’s been dammed.) He immediately requested a move there, as Jamestown was hot and the Saints much too curious.

Merchant William Balcombe and his teenage daughter Betsy were both suspected of being too close to Napoleon, for different reasons. She was the only English person there who spoke French (she had been away to school). Napoleon also befriended a slave, Toby, the same age as himself, (45). Toby was originally from Mozambique, but had lived in Madagascar and so also spoke French. Toby hoarded 20 gold coins which Napoleon gave him, only to have them stolen; the thief was hanged. And the Balcombe family was deported, in 1818.

Napoleon asked to live, not in the main house at Briars (also now demolished), but in the pavilion, which had been built as a ballroom. It was small, surrounded on every side by a patio. Napoleon ate, slept, wrote, bathed and sat in the one room. No curtains, but no need for privacy. His secretary took the attic upstairs. A guard slept over each of the doorways. The rest of his entourage, of 25, to his delight, had to remain in Jamestown. Later, they added a marquee to the front, to act as a dining room.

Since then, the house has been donated to the French, more rooms have been annexed and hour-long tours are conducted twice weekly, by a very informal, beanie wearing French consul. He tells us that Napoleon was at his happiest here, during his imprisonment, where he was relaxed.

In the garden, the ruins of stone dwelling house, where the seven slaves lived cramped together, is being reconstructed. It’s part of a National Trust plan to tell the story of slavery, on the island. Napoleon tried to buy Toby’s freedom. Even though it was he that was responsible for re-establishing slavery in France.

Longwood House

Longwood House was Napoleon’s long term residence on St Helena, until he died, in 1821. It started life as a barn, for the Governor's use. There are various stories about the inadequacy of the building and around the death of the Emperor (as he always styled himself). He is said to have perished from arsenic poisoning, (possibly even via the wallpaper) though the official and most likely explanation, is stomach cancer. Another, more sheltered house, was being built for him. (Longwood was exposed and very damp) but was not completed, and he never moved there.

Longwood has been restored so as to replicate the decoration and furnishing when it was Napoleon’s home. You can visit three mornings a week, for a couple of hours and buy an audio guide for two pounds.(I bargained for mine, as I didn’t have much change.)The allocated numbers for the guide are a little confusing. Some of them don’t seem to exist at all.

There’s a parlour/billiard room, then a drawing room, (where he drew indeed, but it was his last breath, on a green canopied bed). . There seems to be some debate over Napoleon’s last words. It seems they were garbled and may or may not have included:' Head of Army, France, Josephine.' I'm most excited to see the iconic hat propped up there. Along with drawings of it, from every angle.

Next, is the dining room ( the map room to begin with), converted to the chapel on Sundays and feast days. The study, like other rooms, is liberally sprinkled with death masks. Here, there's the field bed, where his body was laid out, on a purple covering. (That was the only time the residents of the island ever got to see him.)

Another old field bed, in the bedroom. His specially imported four poster was rejected as being too rickety and awkward and British and designated to become firewood. A bathroom. He liked to read, eat and talk in the bath. And several smaller rooms used for storage and accommodation for others. His will is laid out in one. .

Guarding Napoleon

The British were paranoid about making sure Bonaparte didn’t escape. Two garrisons were deployed on St Helena, doubling the population of the island and initiating the need to import food and goods (mainly from Cape Town). They even went so far as to claim the island of Tristan da Cunha, so it could not be used as a base to expedite a rescue.

And, even after his death, the British were worried about Napoleon becoming a figurehead. They were not keen to release his body to the French, for some years. Eventually, in1840, Napoleon’s body was returned to France and buried in Les Invalides, a tomb you absolutely cannot miss, dominating the skyline, in Paris. His fame and notoriety have still not waned. In 1858, French emperor Napoleon III purchased Longwood House, by a convoluted route, from Queen Victoria, who wanted to foster relationships with the French.

Napoleon’s Tomb

Napoleon’s original tomb, in the Sane Valley, is the third piece of French property, on St Helena. You can visit, using a steep, kilometre long track, but there’s only a rail enclosed concrete slab, at the end. And you’re not allowed to go very close to that. Twenty four garrison soldiers took it in turns to carry Napoleon’s body to this, its first resting place and it was still guarded, day and night.

Celebrities on Saint Helena

Napoleon (and Wellington) were by no means the only famous visitors to St Helena. Amongst many notables, a young Halley made his observations of the southern night skies here. Explorer Dampier called by; Captain Cook visited on the return legs of both his round the world voyages, with his men documenting the vegetation and upsetting the locals, with criticisms of the treatment of the slaves. Horatio Nelson was on the island, in 1776, followed by Fletcher Christian and later Captain Bligh (they little knew what was to follow). The nineteenth century brought Raffles, Thackeray and Charles Darwin. February 12th is known as Darwin Day on St Helena, but no-one knows why and he’s not venerated, as he failed to notice St Helena’s famous wirebird.

Exploring the Island

I gather much of the above information from my amazing guide, Aaron, of Aaron’s Adventure Tours. He’s lived here all his life and is exceptionally knowledgeable. The Atlantic weather is wildly unpredictable and he patiently shows me around the island criss-crossing the maze of roads and retracing our route to take in views which have earlier been obliterated by rolling cloud. It’s well worth it. The scenery on this isolated, natural fortress of an island has to be described as breath-taking. It’s stunning, with the steepest of slopes either emerald and velvety or a vibrantly contrasting palette of multi-hued ash, cascading into the sea.

South West St Helena

We career along Sandy Bay (black volcanic sand and dangerous currents) and through an arch over a stream - more defences. The view back down to here, from Blue Hill and the South Western Point is arguably the most impressive of all - vivid ash and an azure horseshoe bay presided over by the two peaks, Lot and Lot's Wife. (I thought he avoided petrification in the Bible story?)

There are some 22 named rocks and islets to be spotted off the coast. Their names both prosaic and utilitarian: Castle Rock, Speery Island (spear shaped) the Needle, Lower Black Rock, Upper Black Rock (South), Peaked Island and so on.

Once, the island's interior was a dense tropical forest, with green coastal areas. The Portuguese introduction of goats and pigs (sheep, rats. mice and rabbits followed) soon put paid to that. Today, there’s mainly bare volcanic rock, in the lower areas, and an astonishing mix of introduced vegetation higher up. Prickly pear flourishes alongside Scots and Norfolk Pine. Neglected New Zealand flax undulates, as it drops down steep slopes. Nasturtiums and fuchsia add a riot of colour, along with hibiscus, bougainvillea and morning glory.

There are rapidly decreasing patches of St Helena’s unique indigenous vegetation, including a remarkably spiky cabbage tree species, most commonly found around Diana's Peak, the highest point on the island. There are panoramic views from here and to here, but the peak is thickly forested and there's a cloud forest microclimate. It's more commonly obscured than visible.

The Roads (and Off-roads) of St Helena

The roads are the epitome of steep and narrow, mainly built on the original goat and horse tracks. They have stone walled edges, to prevent cars careering over the edges and the craziest of narrow hairpin bends. The maximum speed limit is 30 mph but, despite the twists and turns, some of the taxis don’t take a lot of notice. There’s one mobile speed camera. We off-road for much of the time, teetering over mini crevasses along ridges and over grassy knolls, beside precipitous drops. It’s definitely an adventure tour.

It’s raining at lunchtime and we eat our packed salads on a small covered terrace by a grocery store. Kindly owner Marcus isn’t at all disgruntled at being disturbed on a Sunday. He opens up, so I can buy a Coca-Cola and then brings us delicious tiny roasted potatoes, from his own kitchen. This is one of those places where everyone smiles and waves at each other. The Saints aren’t hugely easy to understand though. They have accents, with very long-drawn-out vowels, like stuck records.

East St Helena

There are also (if you are lucky - I have mixed fortunes)) views from Flagstaff Hill and The Barn Hill, to the north east. All the peaks are linked by so called Post Box Walks. You can stamp your log book at the beginning and/or end of each trail at the specially built stands.

To the southeast, towards the airport, in an especially bare area, are the Millennium Forest replanting project, the most glorious painted ash and the wirebird nests; they poke fluffy heads out of holes in the ground.

North Central St Helena

To the north from High Knoll Fort, built on a hill 584 meters above sea level, another viewpoint. There’s a roughly grassed golf course (nine holes with two tees on each) and more historic buildings to admire. Alarm House, home to the main signal guns, which sounded every day to mark the time and also to warn of danger. Halley’s observatory. Hutts Gate Store and St Paul’s Cathedral. This main church was built out of town, because, in its heyday, Jamestown was 'too raucous with its taverns and brothels’. Things have certainly changed.

Aaron finishes up on the top of Ladder Hill, above Jamestown. I quickly realise that there’s no way I can climb this ladder without a bad attack of vertigo. Aaron laughs, drapes himself across the railings and slides down. Watch him slide here!

Aboard The Enchanted Isle

The last tourist must-do is a boat tour. There’s swimming with whale sharks later in the summer, but I’m too early for that. And the humpback whales have departed, for this season. But there are still plenty of dolphins. I’ve been invited along with Anne-Marie and Marina, from South Africa, and their husbands, Harvey and Daniel. Harvey was the engineer on the runway building.
We depart from the quay at the end of the harbour, past the Happy Fisherman and The Yacht Club (home of the weekly fish-fry.) The port is humming in the morning. A dinosaur like monster of a machine lumbers along the waterside, containers grasped in its mouth.

A great opportunity to see those volcanic walls, gun metal grey stone fortifications and narrowest of valleys from the water. We embark on The Enchanted Isle and sail southwest along the coast dropping round Southwest Point, where Aaron scared me with the precipitous slopes. Round Speery Island. It’s far more impressive from the water. We’re about halfway round St Helena now.

The cliff faces are spattered with guano and black noddies chirp from their ledges, tiny fluffy chicks waiting anxiously for lunch. The highlight is a huge pod of pan tropical dolphins. These are small and porpoise like and wheel around us, leaping out of the water in unison, or throwing themselves up to extraordinary heights and flopping back, a very welcome cirque de soleil performance. Watch the dolphins here.

Food on Saint Helena

I’ve read that ‘Most of the food on the island is a version of international staples adapted by the diverse population’. I’m struggling to find anything that tickles the palate. Tuna is popular, as it’s the most common fish caught locally. Other fish on offer, like wahoo, is mostly of the tuna family. Fishcakes are ubiquitous, but dense and bland. I’ve also been told that an island favourite is a risotto-with-curry dish called pilau (or plo), based on the Asian varieties of that name. I’ve not seen it on any menu yet.

The Orange Tree Oriental Restaurant, next door to the Mantis, says it opens at five, but there’s no sign of activity at six. Anne’s Place, in the peaceful Castle Botanic Gardens, is the go-to, with tender and flavoursome lamb and pork chops. Originally the government stables, this is now a yachtie hang out, the rafters decorated with pennants and flags. My new South African friends ply me with food and alcohol in here.

Native juniper berries are used to flavour the local (very antiseptic tasting) gin. The St Helena Distillery his the most remote distillery in the world, but it's not currently operating. The owner died recently. Saint Helena has also produced and exported Tungi Spirit, made from the fruit of prickly pears, (Tungi is the local Saint Helenian name for the plant), though demand has fallen lately. There are also coffee plantations. The green tipped Arabica bourbon coffee (originally from Yemen) is often touted as the best in the world and is amongst the most expensive in the world. It costs five times as much in Harrods (£150 per 250 gram bag), as it does here. Ironic that the alcohol abjuring Buonaparte, who said , 'I would rather suffer with coffee than be senseless', should end his days here.

The Leaving of St Helena

Great excitement on my last day in St Helena. There’s a cruise ship in port. Jamestown is swarming with visitors and with Saints watching the visitors. There are stands dispensing leaflets by the harbour wall and all the gift shops have opened their doors expectantly.

We’re off to the airport mid morning and anxiously monitoring the airwaves from the departure lounge, after a ploddingly slow check in, to make sure that our plane has taken off and is expecting to land. Farewell to the second most remote island on earth. It definitely is a world apart.

But not so fast. Our plane has landed, and apparently it’s not going to take off again. The weather is closing in and there is no other fall back airport in case of an emergency. So the day is spent tediously awaiting immigration to get set up, so we can get stamped back in, after the lucky new arrivals, and then receive instructions and transport back across the island. It doesn’t help that the cruise ship folk have commandeered all the island taxis. I’m finally at the Mantis again at four in the afternoon. So now I’ve visited St Helena twice. (Though they didn't make me pay the £20 entry permit again.) And tomorrow is another day…