A good day in Tristan da Cunha

The archipelago is under persistent westerly winds, but today it blows from the opposite direction, making the settlement harbour relatively sheltered. Rain and limited sunshine, it is pretty common here under the wet oceanic climate area where Tristan lies.

But, the island is also known for being one of those places where the weather changes several times a day.

A cloud passes by, and gets stuck on the steep slopes of the 2062m high volcano peak. It rises, grows, and falls. A quick shower, a gusty wind. Then the sun shines again, until the wind increases, climbs up the mountain, and shoots down over the opposite side, speeding up around the island’s perimeter. Another shower, another sunny spell afterwards. And so it was today: variable and changeable weather in the morning, a bit more stable and clearing up in the afternoon, with winds picking up and seas growing around the settlement in the evening. Which made for a rough zodiac operation to come back on board at the end of our visit.

Shielded by high cliffs and steep terrain, the island offers great views from our anchorage despite the morning’s pouring rain.

The only place we can land is at the concrete walls of the sheltered Calshot Harbour, at the shores of the only relatively large expanse of flat and low undulating lands.

Behind is the residential area for the approximately 250 people that live here; to the southwest, the agricultural fields for the island’s community; to the east, the black lavas of the most recent eruption; in the background—now and then visible amongst the clouds that came and went during the day—the impressive Queen Mary’s Peak.

There’s a long swell beating the coast, but we can consider that the ocean is calm today. On days like this, one can only imagine the storms that have written many chapters in Tristan’s past. The remoteness and the fierce waters around the island have had a profound influence on its history. It took over three centuries after it was first sighted before people definitively settled on Tristan. First sighted in 1506 by the Portuguese Admiral Tristão da Cunha as he sailed past en route to the Cape of Good Hope, the first recorded landing had to wait until 1643 by the crew of the Dutch vessel Heemstede. It still took until 1810 for Jonathan Lambert, from Salem, Massachusetts, to lead a party of three men to establish a trading station—an enterprise that lasted for a year, until he and one of his companions were lost at sea, leaving Tomasso Corri marooned for two years on his own until he was rescued by HMS Seiramis in 1813.

Three years later, it was the British Crown that secured the political future of Tristan, when a garrison aboard HMS Falmouth took possession of the island to prevent the French from launching a rescue mission for Napoleon from here (he was imprisoned on St. Helena).

From here begins a history of shipwrecks and people who chose to stay behind and live on Tristan.

The first ship sent to pick up the English soldiers sank. When the second ship came the year after, six people asked to stay on the island. These were William Glass, his wife, two children, and two more men. They laid the foundation for a joint project they called "The Firm," based on equality and cooperation—the seed for the present community on the island.

From then on, several shipwrecks left more people interested in remaining. But by 1826, Tristan had become an island of bachelors. They asked the captain of the Duke of Gloucester to bring them some women from St. Helena. He would supposedly be paid one bag of potatoes for each. Surprisingly, the next time he passed the island, he did bring five women with him. The rest was pretty straightforward: by 1832, there were six couples and 22 children on the island.

Afterwards, the increasing isolation caused by the opening of the Suez Canal (which redirected global sea trade), the replacement of sailing ships by steamships, and the American Civil War brought what is known as the Tristan Lifeboat Disaster.

Virtually all of Tristan's able-bodied men (15) decided to attempt to trade with the ship West Riding when it sailed off the island on 28 November 1869. They set out to sea in a lifeboat—never to be seen again. Tristan da Cunha, once an island of men, became an island of women.

For several years, the women and children had to run the island. In 1892, a shipwreck brought a crew of Irishmen, who stayed for a while, helped out, and took over the potato production. In the same year, an Italian shipwreck brought two new settlers: Repetto and Lavarello. Their carpentry skills helped to design and build the fleet of the well-known Tristan longboats. Fishing and travels to neighbouring islands for birds and eggs set the foundations for the future fisheries and crayfish trade of Tristan.

By now, all the seven surnames that make up the population of Tristan had arrived: the original Scottish settler Glass; the English sailor Swain; the two American whalers Hagan and Rogers; and the two new Italians. It would be until 1986 before a new member arrived—the Scot Patterson, who married an island woman.

The base for a sustainable community had been built.

Future developments brought the construction of new facilities and accommodations during the Second World War, the creation of the Tristan Development Corporation, the establishment of a successful commercial fishery, and the appointment of an Acting Administrator by the Colonial Office.

Once ashore on such an intriguing, interesting, and beautiful island, we were welcomed by the locals, who had prepared several different tours and visits to their lands.

Along the settlement, a dirt road leads to the latest lava flows of the most recent eruption, which in 1961 posed quite a problem for the settlers. A cone, which today offers spectacular views from its elevated viewpoint, began forming just north of the town. Everyone was evacuated to the potato patches and then to the island of Nightingale the next night. The volcano erupted that same night, and lava started flowing towards the houses. The Tristanians were brought to Cape Town by the Dutch ship Tsjisadane, and from there they went to England. But not for long. Just two years later, most of the islanders were already back. After the volcano years, Tristan has managed to balance her traditions with the developments of the outside world. The photo we take of the welcome sign of the remotest island in the world, for example, can be sent straight away to anywhere else in the world via the tourist office’s internet.

Of course, another highlight in Tristan is visiting the famed potato patches, which often come up in conversations about the island. Besides being the area where the local families all have a piece of land to grow their vegetables—yes, including potatoes—they have played an important role in the island’s history and are still part of daily life. One could say that potatoes are what made it possible for the Tristanians to be independent. The first type of money that circulated on the island was based on potatoes: they were called potato stamps, with a value of 4 potatoes to one shilling. There are very few Tristan recipes that do not include potatoes—even cakes are originally made from a mixture of flour and potatoes. Income is now largely based on stamps, handicrafts, and crayfish, but at the patches, potatoes are still grown carefully to supply food. At the same time, the patches are a way to get away from the busy settlement life—many of the small huts and buildings are used on weekends or holidays.

The local economy wouldn’t have grown without the Fish Factory, which stands out in town as a large grey shed. Fishing is one of the main occupations here. Done from their longboats, every year they try to fulfil the quota for the much-appreciated Tristan lobster, and about twice a month, deep-water fishing outings take place when conditions allow, catching enough fish to be distributed among all settlers. And indeed, there is fish in these rich waters—and lobsters. Lots of them.

Without doubt, one of the most fascinating experiences, if you are lucky enough to land on Tristan, is to venture out again at sea—this time with the local fishermen. They are one of the main economic pillars and the basis for the islanders’ subsistence. Half a day in a longboat, soaking in the local fishing culture with a couple of friendly islanders, is an adventure to remember. Not much more than two hours deploying different fishing techniques can give you enough crayfish and fish for days.

Despite the slowly growing seas and increasing wind, their local knowledge and expertise told them that the weather would hold for a while, and they agreed to go out to some coastal areas with a few of us. Crayfish pods were deployed first, then deep-water fishing lines loaded with several hooks were dropped to about 100 meters. Back and forth between a few of them—every time one of the lines was hoisted aboard, it carried Southern Butterfish and Oval Driftfish (locally known as Bluefish and Stumpnose, respectively). Dragging a line behind the boat as she repositioned to a different spot brought a large Cape Mackerel. And several Five-Fingers were caught while line-fishing around and amongst the kelp forests surrounding the island. Then it was time to collect the crayfish pods, which also yielded a successful catch.

Lots of fresh fish for our galley—lots of time needed too for gutting and cleaning it before bringing it aboard Europa. The next couple of hours ashore after returning from our fishing escapade were busy dealing with the catch.

There was time too for walking a bit on our own, meeting the locals and experiencing their hospitality, joining some of them in the pub, shopping for souvenirs, sending postcards from the remotest post office in the world, and connecting our phones to the internet.

Just about when we had to start wrapping up our visit, the harbourmaster called for the start of zodiac operations. The wind picked up, the waves grew. It was time to leave. An adventurous ride brought everyone safely aboard again, together with fresh filleted fish and live lobsters. What a treat of a dinner tonight—and a succulent meal for tomorrow too.

Heaving anchor in the late evening also marked the beginning of the sea watches again. We set sail! Windy at the start, our enthusiasm for good sailing was high. Getting away from Tristan and its land effects on the wind field, everything calmed down. Seas abated; just a fair light breeze blew. Europa gently rolled at a slow speed eastbound. Next port: Namibia.