The World in the Wonder of Tristan

The Parish of St Mary, Tristan da Cunha, is a seven-day ship’s journey south of Cape Town and is easily the most distant congregation in the Diocese of Cape Town. It is part of the Waterfront Archdeaconry and has the uncontested title, “the most remote inhabited island in the world”.

I left Cape Town on board the MV Edinburgh on the 25 July during a particularly stormy week in winter. Yet despite the inclement weather, I had an enjoyable journey. The quiet confidence of Captain Clarence October assured me that all would be well. The cook, Howard Assur, an Anglican in the care of Fr Clarence Chi Mi, besides being an excellent cook was also a wealth of information on the culture and life in general on Tristan. The First Mate, Ian Thompson, was once a server in the Parish of Blackheath. So with this contingent of fellow Anglicans I knew that Neptune would be well disposed to us on my maiden voyage to Tristan. Apparently there were certain benefits attached to going to sea. My cousin, Desmond, who knows about these things, had informed me that on my return from such a long journey I would qualify to wear an earring. Something I obviously would need to apply my mind to. On the Sunday, I had the privilege of celebrating the Eucharist with the crew and my fellow passengers of mainly Tristanians returning to their island home. There in the midst of the Atlantic I reflected on how all of us on board were descendant from people, who some time in the distant past, had travelled these waters either as slaves or settlers.  We, their descendants, were free of the impediments of our forebears.

We saw Tristan in early in the morning of grey and gloomy Thursday, 2 July. A foreboding sight that loomed more intimidating as the ship moved closer. I sought momentary comfort from the thought of how early missionaries after months (compared to my seven days) at sea must have felt at first sight of the island. However, all changed when we rounded Tristan from the east: The village spread out along a narrow plateau, the back of which was bounded by cliffs reaching majestically into cloud covered heights. It was beautiful, the contrast of the green meadows atop the rocks that lined the shoreline with that of the black lava rock remnant of the 1961 volcanic eruption, the blue white-crested waves rolling onto the black-stone beach.

Two small boats headed our way and with much shouting and gesturing, we, the disembarking passengers, were guided into what was ominously referred to “The Cage” and hoisted by crane onto the boat. Despite the choppy waters, the skilful crew ferried us safely to the harbour where it seemed as if the whole village had gathered. To welcome me were the churchwardens, Carlene Green and Eddie Rogers. The latter informed me, as we were walking up to the Rectory, that there were two things to avoid when at sea, a priest and a pig. A sense humour from an honest soul helps with the settling in.

That was two months ago and by the time this is published in October I should be on the homeward leg of my travels. I have been blessed by much kindness and generosity. On Saturday I had young Amber at the Rectory door with a fish, part of her dad and grandfathers’ catch for the day. For supper then I had “Five fingers”, a delicious and fine textured fish apparently only found locally.  One is well cared for by this friendly and welcoming community.

The rhythm of life is regulated so much by the weather which determines when the boats could go out to fish, or when the ship bringing the needed supplies for the supermarket and factory can be off-loaded. On Sunday past, the village gong sounded which meant that the weather was good enough to offload the MV Edinburg which had arrived late afternoon on Thursday but only the passengers were able to disembark. 

Early beginnings

A Portuguese navigator, Tristão da Cunha, discovered the island in 1506 but never went ashore. However in 1816 a small party of British marines landed on the island to pre-empt any attempt on the part of the French to liberate Emperor Napoleon who had been exiled to St Helena. They were later relieved by a garrison which included in its number

William Glass, a Scotsman.  Corporal Glass had been stationed at the Cape. Glass, along with his Cape born wife, Maria Magdalena Leenders, is today remembered as one of the founders of the Settlement of Edinburg. (The village is named after Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburg who visited the island in 1957). On the second day of my stay on the island I passed a sign that read “Hottentot Bus Shelter” in close vicinity to “Hottentot Gulch” which led down to “Hottentot Beach”. The beach, etc were named after fifty Khoi soldiers who had accompanied Glass and the rest of the Royal Artillery. Glass held these men in high regard as described them in the following manner: “Men particularly adapted for artillery drivers, from their firm and perfect seat on horseback, and their fearless sort of character, since they would dash with their horses and guns over roads and precipices that would make a white man tremble to look at”.[1] They eventually returned to Cape Town but their presence has been memorialised in the manner in which I referred to. During the 1820s the loneliness of five bachelors on the island was alleviated by the arrival, at their requests, of five women from St Helena. Today the island population is divided into the following seven families: Glass, Swain, Green, Rogers, Hagan, Lavarello and Repetto. A long time friend of the islanders, Allan Crawford, described the Tristan community thus: “Since the introduction of St Helena wives, themselves of very mixed origin, English, Scotch, Cape, America, Dutch, Italian and Irish blood has come to the island one way or the other”. The world in the wonder of Tristan

Island English

The islanders have appropriated the English language and speak it in a delightful and unique way. Nothing brings a smile to my face more than “So, how is we today?” or when mention is made a icy cold “lazy wind” – to lazy to go around you so it just cuts through you! During this week past a member of the Confirmation Class asked, “Father, can we talk Tristan to you? Weez tired of talking posh”. Godparents are referred to as “Fardish” and “Mardish”, the origin of “Fardish” might be in the Dutch “Vader” and due to the influence of Pieter Groen, a Dutchman shipwrecked on Tristan in1835. 

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The faith community consists of the Catholic St Joseph’s and the Anglican St Mary’s.  The average Sunday Eucharist attendance is about 90 to 110. On Wednesdays we number from between 12 to 14. After the weekday Mass I take communion to the sick and housebound and alternate between the east and west ends of the island.

My experience here has been a rewarding one and I have learnt much from the people of St Mary’s, exemplary in their patience and the day-to-day practice of following our Lord Jesus Christ.