Tag Archives: St Helena

Means of escape

Wednesday 29th January 2025, 1.55pm (day 4,906)

Means of escape, 29/1/25

Four days late, I finally leave St Helena. There were genuine concerns in the morning that the flight would be cancelled yet again — apparently at about 9.30am visibility on the runway was practically zero — but, hallelujah, the clouds cleared and the incoming plane duly landed, about half an hour late (and of course carrying passengers who had all been waiting since Saturday themselves). An hour after this picture was taken, we boarded, took off and I type this in a hotel at Cape Town airport, waiting for my flight back to Heathrow this evening.

This is the blog’s 76th photo to be taken on St Helena: the first one being 9th November 2021 at the same place, the airport, the day before I began my 10-day period of quarantine (spent in a rather nice house not far from where I have been staying this time, Alarm Forest). Will this be the last shot from here, though? At the moment I have no definite plans to return — and, perhaps more significantly, no more research grant money to do so. Data collection for the project is done and I really should now concentrate on writing it all up. But, you know, never say never.

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High Knoll: Code?

Tuesday 28th January 2025, 2.25pm (day 4,905)

High Knoll Fort, 28/1/25

I have absolutely no idea, for certain, whether this will be my last full day on St Helena or not. I have given up speculating, for if I don’t leave tomorrow as currently scheduled, I might succumb to despair. I tried to avoid this emotion today by going on a walk up to High Knoll Fort — appearing for the third time on this visit. This view is taken from inside, looking down through the battlements to the island’s secondary school on Francis Plain. What the code means, I have absolutely no idea either. One Exits Now? That would be good.

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Cobweb and fingers

Monday 27th January 2025, 6.05pm (day 4,904)

Cobweb and fingers, 27/1/25

Yep, still here. And for another 48 hours, at least. This shot pleases me, though. The third one in a row to depict a creature in some kind of repose, but that is how I feel right now.

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Stoicism

Sunday 26th January 2025, 2.20pm (day 4,903)

Stoic bull, 26/1/25

There are worse places to be stuck, that is true. And I’ve not been turfed out of my accommodation, I’m not running out of money, and so on. But this has now become my life’s longest-ever flight delay, or indeed travel delay of any kind, and I may not even be halfway through it yet. I am trying to develop a stoic outlook on life — as this guy appears to have done.

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Sandy Bay scene

Friday 24th January 2025, 5.35pm (day 4,901)

Sandy Bay scene, 24/1/25

The island is generally good-looking, but perhaps I am getting used to the scenes in my usual haunts of Jamestown and Alarm Forest. Over on the other side of the central ridge, though, the less-frequented Sandy Bay area can still take the breath away. Lot and, on the further ridge, his Wife preside over a scene as fair as any you could name.

This was going to be my last evening on St Helena but I post this on Saturday morning already knowing the flight’s been postponed for at least 24 hours. “Bad weather” supposedly but I can’t say it seems that bad to me. So there’ll be one more picture from here, at least.

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Francis Plain, early

Thursday 23rd January 2025, 7.40am (day 4,900)

Francis Plain, 23/1/25

Was ‘at work’ ridiculously early this morning, at least by my standards. Francis Plain is the location of St Helena’s secondary school: that this view is taken across the nearby football pitch is not a further manifestation of my, perhaps, over-interest in that sport but just because that’s what the view is. On a generally dull day this was one of the few observed shafts of sunlight. Yes, the litter bin to bottom left does irritate, but otherwise, there are worse views to gee one up at 7.40am.

100 days to go until day 5,000. I guess I can keep it going until May 3rd.

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Elephant head plant

Wednesday 22nd January 2025, 1.50pm (day 4,899)

Elephant heads, 22/1/25

I have no idea about the actual identity of this species — and I think these are buds rather than the mature plant — but tell me you don’t think the name is appropriate. Look at the one third from the right on the stalk, it even has an eye in the right place.

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Invasive species: two for the price of one

Tuesday 21st January 2025, 2.30pm (day 4,898)

Flax and chicken, 21/1/25

St Helena has been subjected to many invasive species since humanity first arrived here five centuries ago, some deliberately planted or otherwise introduced, some accidentally so. In the background, New Zealand flax (Phormium tenax), which a while back someone decided would be a good cash crop, it being the basis of things like rope and mailbags. The cash for it stopped flowing fifty years ago, but that doesn’t mean it all decided to stop growing. In the foreground, well, you know what bird that is (Gallus gallus domesticus, according to the biologists): much the same thing happened, but as a chicken is for life and not just for Sunday dinner, when there stopped being much economic point in people looking after them, out into the environment they went. There are now large numbers of feral chickens on the island.

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High Knoll Fort

Sunday 19th January 2025, 12.35pm (day 4,896)

High Knoll Fort, 19/1/25

I spent the day entirely in my accommodation, marking. Something I could have done at home (whether on a Sunday or otherwise). The options for a photo were of the garden at the flat, or its view, so let’s try the latter. I have a decent view at home, too… but the day was what it was. Anyway this is High Knoll Fort, or one end of it anyway: a significant St Helena landmark, visible from most of one half of the island, which is, of course, why they built it there.

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Rollers on the wharf

Saturday 18th January 2025, 5.10pm (day 4,895)

Rollers, 18/1/25

St Helena sits in such a vast expanse of uninterrupted ocean that sea conditions can often have no direct relationship to what the weather is like locally. The atmosphere was calm today, a beautiful day of weather (in fact, all of them have been, since I came here, except for one bout of mild drizzle last Wednesday afternoon). But the sea…. that was a different story.

“Rollers” are the local name for waves driven by storms way to the north, like off Canada, or Florida, and which just roll down the ocean for thousands of miles until hitting this small lump of rock that happens to be in the way. On one day in February 1846 (see this page) the rollers were so intense that they took out half of Jamestown and about thirty moored vessels. They weren’t quite that bad this afternoon but still, it’s noticeable no one was parking their cars on the wharf.

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