Life Aboard Ship, Dispatches From South of the "Roaring Forties"
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Sunday, July 11, 2004
I’m sure you have all been dying to find out if we got to Tristan and if we got the fish. YES! A good thing, too, because we are now on our way to Capetown and the end of the voyage.
We finally were able to get ashore the morning of Friday, 9 July. Although the weather was beautiful on the 8th, we still could not land because the swell was too big. The “harbor” at Edinburgh does have a pair of jetties, but it is open to the northwest, and there was a big ground swell that would break all the way across the entrance and then sweep in to break against the sea wall inside. Not safe. We learned later that it’s not unusual for ships to wait two or three weeks before being able to land cargo or passengers. So we waited it out, and luckily for us the next morning it was beautiful.
The “first wave” consisted of our two inflatables with 6 people each plus all our collecting gear (waders, buckets, dip nets and beach seines, insulated containers for keeping fish alive). The Fisheries Officer, James Glass, met us with several assistants, a light truck, and a Land Rover. After all the introductions and some brief discussions, they took us down the coast about three miles to a tide pool area where we were able to collect fish.
![]() Members of the PALMER's science team tidepool on Tristan da Cunha with residents of the island. |
Tristan is an extraordinary place, both in terms of topography, fauna, and society. In the last Bulletin I described some of the island, but to repeat: it is a large volcano, with a central crater about 6000 feet high, now dormant and filled with water. There is comparatively little arable land. In 1961, there was an eruption just to the north of the town, and all the residents were evacuated to the UK for two years. It’s a measure of how much they prefer their own society that almost all of them returned when given the opportunity to do so in 1963. There are slightly fewer than 300 residents of the island, which has been settled since 1810. Tristan is British and always has been, although it was discovered by a Portuguese explorer around 1550. There is no military base, no airfield, only one road. There are only seven family names among all the locals, who (as you might expect) are all related to some degree. Oddly enough, two of the surnames are Italian, stemming from two sailors who were shipwrecked in 1892 and decided to stay on. The island is quite self-supporting because it has a profitable lobster fishery that provides steady income for the government. In addition to their “regular” occupations, almost everyone farms, raising their own meat and vegetables, and fishing.
![]() B. diacanthus were captured in tidepools with seine nets and in the harbor with hook and line. |
The lobster fishery is carried on from small open boats, called Tristan longboats. These are 23 feet long and have a small motor but can also be sailed, which of course they originally were. Because there is no safe harbor, all of the boats are stored on land and are put in and out by crane.
![]() Tristan longboats are used for the island's lobster fishery, powered by small engines or sails. |
So, I set off to walk to the end of the road south (the longest one on the island). It was about four miles, and I went from rough pavement to dirt to mud track to just following tracks across open fields. One thing I noticed very clearly during my walk was the absence of man-made noise. Except for the surf, the wind, and the noises of sheep and cattle, there was no sound not even birds! Although there are quite a few birds that nest on Tristan (rock hopper penguins, Atlantic yellow nose albatross, three species of petrels, an endemic thrush, and several other locally occurring species) these are not out in the fields and, except during breeding season, not many of the seabirds are ashore.
About 1/2 mile before reaching the end, I was stopped by a closed gate in a fence line that ran down to the cliffs. While I was wondering if I should go through the gate (I didn’t see a locked anything throughout my time on the island), a Land Rover came across the field and stopped at a gate farther down the fence. I went down to it while the passenger, a woman, was unfastening the gate. I asked her if I could walk across the field and she told me that I could walk anywhere I wanted except on the mountain, which would require a guide. Then she asked if I would like a ride, which I accepted. It turned out they were Dr. and Mrs. Bloem, and Dr. Bloem (the driver) was the doctor for the island. They were South African, there on a three-year contract to provide both medical and veterinary services to the islanders and their animals. We had a very nice conversation as we drove (very slowly) down the track to the road’s end, and I would have liked to talk with them longer but needed to walk back to the harbor to return to the ship.
![]() Tristan da Cunha's single road ends and the walker has two choices: the ocean or the mountain. |




