Islands & Treks

Having now almost completed my stint here in Montserrat, I have been recently reading up more about the other British Overseas Territories and trying to get a feel of the infrastructure of music education in other OTs. My work here has been, if not inspiring for the students, then very much so for myself. And one of the long-term ideas that I've allowed to fester in my mind has been one that involves collaboration amongst music students in all the different OTs around the world.

Of course, I am certain the potential groundwork seems massive - but having lived in a small(ish) island community, leading and supporting music education schemes, I must admit it is very relentless but rewarding work. Montserrat is only but one of the 14 OTs around the world, ranging from large, populated islands like Bermuda and the Cayman Islands - both well known for tourism and the occasional tax evasion - to smaller, isolated islands such as the Falkland Islands and Pitcairn Islands.

At pop. 67 (2011 est.), Pitcairn is the least populous jurisdiction in the world. The main island is the only inhabited one, with three other small islands making up the group of Pitcairn Islands. With no airstrip and a nearly-perpetually tumultuous bay, the only access to the island is an overnight journey by sea from the other nearest landmass, Mangareva, French Polynesia - 300 miles away. The regular ship that services the island (bringing island stores and occasionally, tourists) makes only two return trips every three months.

There is only one school on the island (pre-school and primary), with what I guess appears to be between 5-7 pupils overseen by a qualified teacher appointed from New Zealand. Each teaching contract in Pitcairn lasts for two years, and other duties include editing the Pitcairn Miscellany, a monthly newsletter filled with island happenings, ship arrivals and local gossip.

And it's this newsletter that I have been rather absorbed with recently - it's like reading a local newspaper about a family living in a somewhat Swiss Family Robinson-esque fashion. Add that to Pitcairn's somewhat illustrious history - Pitcairners are mostly descendants of the Bounty mutineers and the Tahitians who accompanied them - and charming isolation, I have been quite fascinated with the inner workings of such a close-knit community. Which brings me back to the idea of possibly setting up some form of collaborative project with the students on Pitcairn, perhaps starting with my new students in my upcoming job at St John's next academic year.

For those who might be interested in a glimpse of a country populated by only (approx.) 67 people, sharing a newly-upgraded 1 Mbps satellite internet connection and living with 14-hour electricity cycle per day and only one privately-owned car on the island, you can read the latest copy of the Pitcairn Miscellany which I have uploaded here. Regular subscription costs US$15 per year. Pitcairn is now trying to expand tourism to the island, reaching out to the numerous cruise ships that sometimes call whilst traversing the Atlantic. However, access to the bay is extremely weather-dependant and it's never a guarantee that you will be able to set foot on the island after your lengthy journey.

Of course, if you think the work gossip in your office building was bad enough, think again. Pitcairn is also no stranger to controversy, having come into the spotlight for the 2004 sexual assault trials where charges were laid against seven men living on the island and six living abroad, including the island's mayor at that time. All but one of the defendants were found guilty, some with multiple counts of sexual attacks of children, and were housed in a converted prison set up by the British government. Particular consideration in sentencing had to be given due to the fact that if too many able-bodied men were incarcerated for too long, the island would essentially cease to function properly. Talk about a serious case of cabin fever.

The beguiling charm of Pitcairn still holds steadfast, however, and short of obtaining my own sailing yacht and traipse across the Atlantic, I shall content myself to the role of couch traveller and perhaps get to work on seeing that collaborative project through. Who knows, if this is successful, the next step could be Ascension Island (pop. 1,122) or Tristan da Cunha (pop. 264). Interestingly, Tristan da Cunha, while being the most isolated inhabited island in the world, already has an ongoing music collaborative project between the island's school and amateur composers in England, led by a certain music teacher named Tony Triggs.

In other more local news, I have been doing a bit more trekking around Monty, doing some last-minute exploration of nature before I leave. Last Sunday, Sonja kindly agreed to take me on the trail to the dry waterfall, with Pepper tagging along. It was a mildly easy, 3-hour return trek which culminated with the dry waterfall looming over a the wide and rocky Soldier Ghaut - most impressive. A few photos from the morning.

An exceptionally clear day: Redonda out at sea, with Nevis just faintly beyond.

Sonja ducking under the two 'kissing' trees.

Arrival at the dry 100-ft waterfall.

This Friday, Em, Gerren & I are attempting to trek up Katy Hill, the tallest peak in the Centre Hills. Trés bien.

Ghauts & Scuba diving

This weekend gone has been a busy one, and as I now settle back into this mid-week post I can see my arms slightly reddish from a bit too much exposure to the sun. On Saturday, a group of us - Doug, Mel, Rob, Dan and myself - went on a hike in the north, starting from Drummonds heading to Rendezvous Bay and going via Silver Hills. What was meant to be a rather straightforward undertaking quickly turned into somewhat of an intrepid bush hike as we somehow veered off the trail, stumbled onto a farm and then proceeded to edge our way slowly down a steep slope into a valley before clamouring down the entire length of a ghaut on our hands and feet.

At this point we were beginning to wonder if we were truly lost, but by some fortuitous chance we came across two men who were building a goat fence, albeit in the seemingly most random and remote location as where we were. They, however, did seem to know the local geography well and managed to point is in the right direction - this time following yet another different ghaut down the valley, towards the sea. The aim was to reach Crystal Beach, a rocky beach along the north coast purportedly containing crystals.

And crystals we did find! Well, nothing too grand, but crystals nonetheless - they were embedded in some form of limestone. Following the coast, we continued on to Rendezvous Bay, the only white sand beach on the island. The water was pristine and nothing short of relieving, after our long detour.

My return to the summit of Silver Hill.

Carib or Arawak ruins, perhaps?

At the summit of Silver Hill, we spotted what appeared to be ruins of some sort - two monoliths strangely sticking out of the tree canopy. While I can't profess to know much about Caribbean history, I did hear that the earliest evidence of humans in Lesser Antilles arc of islands dates all the way back to 2,000 BCE in Antigua - which is right next door from Montserrat. This area certainly has seen lots of human history.

Dan being a bit of a geology nerd.

Attempting to reconcile with the trail.

At some point, the trail we were trying to follow disappeared, and no amount of consultation with Doug's hi-tech GPS tracker could point us back in the right direction. We crossed a farm gate and, after avoiding a potentially irate cow looking after a calf, arrived at a steep side of a hill overlooking a valley which, we reckoned, would lead us to the ocean.

Rolling hills and valley.

A rocky respite.

At a scenic rocky outcrop.

After pushing our away through some low but thick vegetation, we arrived at a dry ghaut that was bordered by a goat fence on the east side. Which, I suppose, was good news - that meant someone had been here previously before on foot to build these fences. Although, considering how remote where we were, it seemed like a massive effort to go through just to make sure a few goats don't accidentally wander off.

And just as I was pondering on that point, we ran into that pair of fence-building farmers.

Mel expressing some rocky love.

The intrepid five.

Familiarizing myself with more local flora.

And finally, two-and-a-half hours later, we finally heard faint sounds of splashing waves. At the end of ghuat we emerged at sea level, on a rocky beach that was Crystal Beach. From there, we followed the coast west-ward and arrived at neighbouring Rendezvous Bay. This beach is only accessible by boat, or a hilly 30-minute trek from the port in Little Bay.

First stop: straight into the sea.

The cliffs which cut Rendezvous Bay off.

My little spot of paradise.

On Sunday, Mel, Philippa and myself returned to Little Bay - not for more walking though, but to get our sea legs in shape with a boat dive with Emmy and Andrew, a couple who run a diveshop on the island called Scuba Montserrat. We went out to Rendezvous Bay (again!), but anchored off about 400 metres form shore for our dive and a spot called Rainbow's End.

As I don't have an underwater camera, I didn't get any pictures from our dive, unfortunately - but it certainly was a beautiful sight of corals, fishes and a couple of sea urchins. At 45 feet, one tank lasted pretty long, and we managed to clock just above an hour for our dive.

After returning to shore, we headed over to the nearby beach bar for some lunchtime beers to finish off the weekend - for me, at least - I was completely knackered. Here is a map of the trail we took for the trek on Saturday, taken off the GPS.

In other music-related news, the Montserrat Youth Choir will be having their inaugural performance on Cultural Day, 12 March. Montserrat Secondary School celebrates the annual cultural day with a parade from Salem, with students dressing up in cultural costumes representing all the countries which the student population derives from. There will be a UK contingent, and I have agreed to 'choreograph' a ceilidh-style Scottish reel routine for the parade.

The parade will then end at the school itself, where there will be a varying range of food and merchandise being sold to raise funds for the school. I almost thought I might be cornered into preparing some Singaporean-type cuisine for this, but thankfully I was spared. Not that I have the slightest inkling on how to whip up chicken rice, laksa or char kway teow! (I make a pretty damn good carbonara meatball pasta though.) And finally, There will also be a 'concert' of sorts, with students performing different artistic routines derived from different cultures.

Come next Tuesday, I will be meeting with the Rotary club here in Montserrat to see if we can raise even more funds for instrument donations - which is in itself a positive development. On the other hand, my order of music books from Chappell still hasn't arrived, and it's been nearly three weeks. Very frustratingly so. The postal system in this region really needs a big kick up the bum!