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| Journal - |
| October 12th, 2005 > back to the world |
| Setting off down the hill, another trailer piled high with luggage. It’s hot and I’m tired, another five boats left today, can’t stop until everyone has arrived or departed. I check my watch – thirty minutes past the hour - it can only mean one thing. Cutting it fine to meet the next boat, again. Looking behind I peer through the rising plume of dust and instantly recognise the familiar shape laying on the track. Another suitcase has fallen off.
Times like these, and there has been a few, October seemed a very long way off. But just like the ferry boat always arrives on time, in spite of my prayers it will be late, so has the end of my stay on the island. It has all worked out perfectly, really. Most of the seasonal workers have already gone; the weather is turning and the work running out. So it has been a good winding down period, giving me time to adjust and prepare onward plans. There is a similar intimate atmosphere as I had found on my arrival in April. Once again the few remaining staff can settle in their favourite corner of the Mermaid Tavern. We can even reclaim the pool table as our own. |
| There have been so many memorable moments over the six months. Some have been written about here, many not. They wouldn’t all make good reading (the “you had to be there” moments) or I didn’t get around to it, and certainly a few should never be written about. Those will reside only in my memory, along with all the other useless information in there. I couldn’t begin to thank all the people who have made my stay here so memorable. Just like when I’m on the road, some have become the sort of friends I’ll keep in touch with, others will go their own way – but the varied bunch of people that have made Herm 2005, seasonal and resident alike, will be with me for a long time. In particular though, I’d like to thank Will. His profile appeared on an earlier journal (that’s right, click the underlined link to view)! We have worked alongside each other all the way, through some crazy days. Unlike myself, he has almost always retained his sense of humour. His ability to not retain tractor keys, pens and clothing is legendary. His energy, and once in a while a complete lack of, has time and again amazed us all. During an off day, it merely takes coffee and slices of bacon to build him back up to full fighting force – thankfully two commodities readily available on the campsite. It’s during one of his bad hair days though that Will has given me some of my best memories. I won’t mention the suitcase that got dropped into the harbour during a particularly busy boat arrival. What else could we do but retrieve it, leave it in the sun to drain, and scarper? |
| But I do have to mention the day I discovered Will is, among his many talents, an excellent diver. At the end of a balmy August weekend, the last boat on a Sunday is always big going-home time for tourists. Days like this, an extra ferry is provided to take the overflow of sunburnt bodies off the island. Due to the tide at this time, all departures were from the low water landing steps – a small logistical nightmare when around three hundred and fifty pink bodies, in high spirits after a post beach visit to the tavern, all want to be on the first boat. The ferry was quickly loaded to its 250 max, along with the usual assortment of luggage. Ropes were thrown as Trident IV’s engines rumbled into reverse. As she backed away, I wondered where on earth Will had got to. It didn’t take many seconds for me to locate the distressed calls of my partner, arms above his head as he waded through the crowd of people gathered on the foredeck of the departing boat. Caught out in the worst possible way a baggage handler can be, putting on a last minute case he had become a passenger himself.
We simultaneously looked up to the bridge, hoping to appeal on humanitarian grounds to the skipper. Responding with a wink and boyish grin, we both knew there would be no recourse. Ten metres….eleven…..twelve…. faced with a growing watery void a decision had to be made. At this point most passengers had homed in on the action, as had the hundred or so people awaiting the next boat. There was now almost total silence as everyone held their breath in anticipation. Not wishing to spend a lonely night off the island, our involuntary stowaway climbed the railings and executed the finest dive I have ever seen. To this day, I wonder how his steel toe-capped boots didn’t drag him straight to the bottom. Looking rather like a half drowned Spaniel, we pulled him out to loud applause and much camera clicking – Will had once again made my weekend complete! |
| the last of the campers leave, as does very nearly Will |
| escape time on a Sunday - this is the line before you even get near the steps |
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| click logo to visit Herm |
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| click logo to visit Herm |
| Over the past six months I have used a couple of my journals to elaborate a little on the island’s interesting history. They took us up to the mid eighteenth century and largely explained the varied uses to which Herm has been put. From first settlement to religious centre for Norman monks, then private hunting grounds for the governors of the bailiwick, the next two hundred and fifty years were arguably the most significant period of all. In 1737 Herm became a Crown owned farm, and was leased to the first Tenant of Herm, a Guernsey farmer. As the agriculture continued to be developed by various short term tenants, by 1777 Herm entered the industrial era. This also proved to be a turbulent time as various entrepreneurs tried to capitalize on the exceptionally hard Herm granite. The toughness of the granite would eventually cause the downfall of the industry; proving too costly to produce. By the 1850’s many scars had been left on the island as the last of the quarrymen began to leave.
Several Crown Tenants would continue to develop the island from here on, mostly for their own personal pleasure. Limited public access gradually increased. As with the industrial era, most of these tenants met a sorry end in financial ruin. At the end of the Second World War, the states of Guernsey opted to buy the lease to Herm from the Crown in a bid to ensure a more settled future. The Board of Administration was entrusted, and still is, with the job of ensuring “that the natural attractions and peacefulness of the island are preserved and made available to all who visit it”. The task of choosing a suitable tenant begun in earnest. A number of proposals from prospective tenants resulted from an advertisement in The Times. The successful applicant proposed to develop the island “slowly and soundly” into a high class holiday resort. Thus, Mr A G Jefferies, a retired glove manufacturer became the first tenant under the control of the Guernsey Board of Administration. However, by 1949 Jefferies found it impossible to run the island, the sheer amount of work and investment required proving too much for this ageing man. During his short time on the island, he is remembered for creating a pigeon postal service that operated from Herm to a loft in Guernsey. *and was probably somewhat more efficient that Guernsey’s current system* On hearing the tenancy to the island was for sale, Major Peter Wood and his wife Jenny made their way to the island for a look. They instantly fell in love with the place, and in July 1949 Major & Mrs Wood became the new tenants. They oversaw the installation of water, electricity and telephone lines and created the Herm postal service. Development has been steady and in keeping with the environment. Above all, it has been a success, a position that has mostly evaded all previous tenants throughout the history of the island. The name would continue to be associated with Herm until the present day, becoming the longest running lease holders since the Norman Church. In 1987 the tenancy was transferred to a company formed entirely from members of Major Wood’s family, Wood of Herm Island. It is an arrangement that brings us to the present day and has ensured a prosperous future for Herm; the current lease runs until 2049. The crucial thing about the company is that it is all about maintaining and conserving the island. Of course, it has to make money, but certainly the real motivation is the sheer love of the place. In my opinion, having a long term and settled tenant will always be for the good of the island; frequent changes would surely mean bad management, radical ideas and loss of balance. Adrian Heyworth, chairman of Wood of Herm Island, manages the island along with his wife Pennie (daughter of the late Major Wood). It is with Adrian that I have had most contact during the summer, as do all of the outdoor workers. Chartered surveyor by profession, conservationist, accomplished mariner, special constable, fire-fighter and first-aider, there is nothing this man does not get involved with on the island. He even reads the weekly Sunday service in St Tugals, the island church.. His passion for the island is infectious, after twenty five years the drive is still there to meet the first boat each morning, seven days a week. It’s when gathered at the boat that I typically receive a telling off for a noisy party and general island jobs can be discussed with outdoor staff. Make no mistake, working on Herm is no holiday and Adrian expects people to pull their weight. But outside of work, he wants people to enjoy themselves and takes a keen interest in the lives of employees. |
| People |
| Among the wide range of folk that have passed through my field this year, it’s the seasonal campers that I have come to know the most. These are the guys that rent an annual site, move everything (including the kitchen sink in one case) over and visit as much as they can. Think of it as a holiday home made of canvas. Forget sleeping mats and gas lamps – think solar panels and bbq’s the size of a family car. They all have their own reasons for coming here; for some it’s to socialize, others prefer to unwind in silence with a book. This year saw the arrival of a few new campers. They pride themselves on bucking the trend and taking a minimalistic approach to their set-up. But I’ve noticed them looking with envy over the fence at the neighbours, and feel it is only a matter of time before they turn up with picnic bench, assorted chairs, trampoline and car-sized bbq to add to their collection. Time will tell. |
| Adrian, Pennie & three daughters, all brought up on Herm. It's an old image, borrowed from the official Herm website. |
| I couldn’t resist the invitation to run a small shooting day on the neighbouring island of Jethou. Partly for the novelty of being a gamekeeper again for a day, mostly because it’s a private island and I wanted to have a good poke around. The island is less than a hundred acres, and has an interesting history as a base for smuggling. The weather complemented the relaxed and friendly atmosphere among the guests, and we all enjoyed the physical exertion of clinging to the steep slopes. A particular highlight was lunch in the private pub, The Admiral, where the door is always unlocked and the refreshments flow freely. I’ve spent ten years of my life doing this (not drinking in pubs - gamekeeping), it was the first time I have ever had to take a boat to get there. |
| Back to the world |
| I managed to pin the man down long enough to answer a few questions, before I left the island: How long have you been running the island under the current set up? 25 years Was taking over the tenancy inevitable, did you relish the challenge? Yes, in order to maintain continuinity of family ownership. Apart from developing the tourism, did you ever consider anything else – perhaps a giant casino or secret scientific research station? Always considering alternatives, but sadly no obvious money makers! You obviously know a great deal about island history. Which period most fascinates you? 19th century Do you think all the secrets of Herm have been discovered? Yes What are the biggest changes you’ve noticed over the years? Fewer day visitors, more private boaters. Better standards. How do you juggle your tasks successfully? Tenaciously What are you most proud of? Maintaining the peacefulness & natural beauty. Tree planting. What’s the most frequently heard complaint? Quads & tractors! How do you enjoy the island for yourselves? Winter walks and Lobster potting. Your most memorable moment? 5 lobsters in one pot! So many other memorable moments. Do you have a favourite place on the island? North end of Bears Beach. If it couldn’t be Herm, where else? New Zealand. Will Pennie add chapters to her mother’s extraordinary book “Herm Our Island Home”? Hopefully. What do you think the future holds for the island? Should be fine, provided people continue to seek peacefulness and natural beauty. Finally, any funny stories? Yes, but not for repeating! |
| Meet a camper |
| And so I actually made it to the end. It’s a strange feeling; I’m ready for the next adventure, but sorry to leave some great friends and happy memories. The Lurve Shak has hosted its last party under my command *it hasn’t been such a nice place to live in since we creosoted it last week anyhow*. Following tradition I was thrown into the sea fully clad on my last day – thanks Euan, Brett, Juan & Will, I would have been thoroughly disappointed if you hadn’t! My very last night coincided with the White House Hotel shutting down, and the true end of season party. All staff, seasonal and resident alike, were given free run of the facilities with a disco. We had one of those Dj’s who spends more time at the bar than actually worrying about the music, but all was well. I went to bed early, compared to some, at six thirty AM! |
| We had these shirts made up - had to keep them out the way of the boss though... |
| the magnificant interior of the tepee |
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| Profile |
| Next they had to source around fifteen twenty eight foot poles, settling on Black Bamboo imported from Asia as the most suited to local conditions. I remember clearly the fun and games I had getting them up here from the boat, in my fifteen foot trailer. They have found the tepee to be exceptionally robust and maintenance free; last year during a summer storm many people lost their tents all together, whereas the wind simply flowed around the curved tepee. Looking closer you notice the beautiful artwork that decorates the interior and windbreaks. The basic shapes which make up this traditional Native Indian art are brought out into striking contrast against the ashen canvas; the vivid colours are produced from acrylic ink – all John & Helen’s own work. |
| One tent tends to look like another, and frankly if I never see another again it will be too soon. There is, however, one couple that take a different approach. John & Helen both hold a fascination for all things Native American, which they apply to many aspects of their camping. Most obvious is the huge Tepee, which I’ve noticed can be seen from quite a way out to sea. They made the move from a conventional tent four years ago, after locating a specialist company that could supply a genuine canvas made to traditional design. |
| Gamekeeper for a day |
| I am currently in Guernsey, plotting my escape and saying a few goodbyes. Because of the delays this summer, I have chosen (after much thought) to postpone the Russian leg of the journey until after Christmas. I will be travelling from the UK into Northern Europe; from there I’ll fly to New Zealand for a short trip in order to take care of my residency application. The theory is, it will be processed while I am happily on the road for a year.
Coming to Herm was never part of my plan, but then I had purposely left things open anyway. I am hitting the road six months late, meaning a few things change – most notably I will experience Siberia, Mongolia and Northern China in the depths of winter. No bad thing, I say. With my mother beginning to believe I will never actually make it to New Zealand, I made a quick calculation to put her at ease. It didn’t – I’ve covered about 400 miles in seven months. At my current speed, it will take me a tad under eighteen years to get there. If you have followed even just a few of these journals from Herm, I hope they have given you an impression of life here, and perhaps even inspired you to check it out yourself one day. Over the centuries many people have been captivated by the island and its atmosphere – that includes me - there is truly something special here. I wanted to thank all the people that made my time here what it was, but really the list would be too long. You know who you are. Keep in touch. |
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| you've seen enough sandy beaches - one of my favourite views looking over the village and across the lagoon to Jethou Island |
| hard drinking Chef's Graham, Martin & Johny with Steinuun |
| the team for the day, outside private pub The Admiral |
| from left: Herm resi Jonothan, myslef, resi Euan and Salty |
| not necessarily the wisest choice of head-wear! |
| The Jethou Flyer is a prototype lifeboat - and packed with more gadgetry than you can shake a stick at. Riding in this was an exciting way to start the day |
| So much to do.... so little time. I had a long list of folk who wanted their profiles up - sorry guys we just could not squeeze you all in. So, for this final time I'm rather chuffed that I worked out how to do these little mini window, thus enabling me to squash quite a few in. Simply click on the image, it will open a special window made to fit exactly the information, and should load real quick too! Genius! |
| Modern Herm |