After days and days of nothing but sparkling blue water on all sides, it was something of a surprise to look out my office window and see land thrusting up from the horizon. And not just any land. This is an island made famous in history and literature and almost any other form of popular culture available.
Many years ago a group of mutineers sailed their newly acquired ship into what would later become Bounty Bay on what today is known as Pitcairn Island. They had supplies with them, and even women – most likely taken from the French Polynesian islands. They made what must have been a difficult landfall, made what would become a permanent settlement, and set fire to their hard-won prize of the HMS Bounty. The remnants of this once proud ship can still be seen through the waters of Bounty Bay, but few other than marine archeologists (it was a National Geographic Explorer who originally discovered the wreck), have ever seen it as landfall on the island today is considered basically impossible. For us this is a visual only stop. We’ll scenic cruise around the island for a few hours, before heading on our way to Tahiti and ‘normal’ civilization.
From a distance the islands are breathtaking. Far from appearing desolate and deserted, it’s easy to see how one could believe everything you needed to survive here. The green mountains and crashing waves look like something out of a fantasy story, and there are colors splashed across the land that seem unrecognizable. They say the honey here is the best in the world, as it’s made by a species of bees found nowhere else, from flowers that grow only on this island.
Normally we would have the locals come on board and host a craft fair (which would include the opportunity to purchase some of that honey), thus generating revenue for the island as well as providing the guests and crew with a chance to purchase souvenirs from a place they will never physically set foot on. However, fortune was not with us this season, and the entire population of the island has been exposed to a particularly nasty strain of flu. Not wanting to risk exposing our shipboard population to such a contagious virus, the captain made the wise choice to forgo the normal market. Instead, we performed a simple one way drop off of supplies (the island is nearly completely dependent on passing ships and puts in their orders on a scheduled basis). The islanders are still floating around in their longboats looking at us.
Only about 60 people live here, probably less. All from the same five families. The sad (and somewhat disturbing) truth is that they are all related. Directly related. At one point a long time ago, the island supported a population of over 200, but emigration ultimately caused it to dwindle. One would suspect that the settlement is not the island paradise it looks like. Various people have told me that it’s actually got a lot of very severe problems, most of which are likely a direct result of the inbred bloodlines. As outsiders, we’ll never know what it’s really like. Or what it was like all that time ago, when the Tahitian blood was still fresh and things had not become what they are today.
As we pull further away from the island the seas once again change from sapphire blue to a dim blue grey, indicating that we once again are at the mercy of mother nature. But she seems to be in a good mood today, and will hopefully continue to grant us smooth sailing as we make our way to French Polynesia.