At 0615 I spot the first faint light and, in a half hour, can clearly see St. Helena's outline. I confess, forty years after buying that book, to be quite excited.
Charles Darwin was here in 1836 during his Beagle voyage. His first impression: ‘(St. Helena) rises abruptly like a huge black castle from the ocean.’
Returning Saints, some leave for decades to find work, look at their home. They have an attachment and sense of belonging we who live in cities can but imagine.
Visitors - there are a handful of true tourists - take in what I inadequately describe as a fearsome sight. Cliffs hundreds of metres high, sharp peaks and uninviting valleys sliced into the side of an extinct volcanic cone.
In 1845, 1,458 ships called at Jamestown. It was an important provisioning stop for ships travelling between Europe and the Far East. The Suez Canal's 1869 opening abruptly ended that. In 1948 only 31 ships. Nowadays, just the RMS and occasional tanker.
Here's Jamestown in the days of sail.
The view this morning.
There's no natural harbour and, even in 2012, no breakwater and no docking. The RMS anchors and passengers go ashore on a small tender, the Gannet Three, which you can see below.
Cargo is transferred on towed barges; this will take two days before the RMS departs for Ascension Island.
Rough seas can make landings hazardous. Rare cruise ships - St. Helena is well off the normal tracks - sometimes find it too dangerous to land passengers for a quick visit. Frustrated travellers then inspect Jamestown through binoculars while island merchants bitterly regret the loss of much needed business.
Bar horrendous seas, the RMS must land passengers and cargo. Today, the water's calm and the tender takes about five minutes.
Amanda, a South African tourist, and Keith, former senior prison official in the UK and here to advise on the island's tiny lockup, share the tender with me.
Passengers in 2012 land much the same as three hundred years ago. Two dockers grab and haul you ashore. Fortunately, I don't go into the drink as did a former governor when welcoming Prince Andrew in 1984.
After a little over five days at sea, I'm on St. Helena. Other than Tristan de Cunha, this is the normally inhabited land, which is furthest away from any other land on earth. Africa is 1,950 kilometres (1,200 miles) and South America 2,900 kilometres (1,800 miles) distant.
First impressions? Coming up in the next post.
