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.

Mallets & Balls

Over last weekend I joined Tom & Emily at Little Bay for something a little unusual - helping out at the Montserrat Reef Project, building reef balls. What are reef balls? They are gumdrop-shaped concrete structures ranging from 4-6 feet tall, built using a pre-fabricated mould that consists of a central inflatable bladder. Right, that was a rather befuddling attempt to explain it, so here's a picture.

Freshly made reef balls.

And on Saturday, we turned up at 8 in the morning ready for some manual labour. With Tom & I not having wielded many a hammer in our lives so far, we embarked on a good start by taking and hammering apart the moulds that were filled in the day before. Each mould consists of three or four panels, and on each panel are small inflatable 'buoys' that give each reef ball it's signature 'cheese' layout. These holes within the structure will allow for water filtration and movement which will aid in coral growth. It also, of course, enhances the 'playground' effect for fish when it is finally put in the sea.

We then proceeded to reset and build the moulds again, for a marine-specific concrete mix to be poured in eventually. Each mould has a central inflatable bladder that gives the reef ball a hollow interior, and this bladder along with the smaller buoys are inflated before the concrete mix is poured in.

Andy & I with a smaller reef ball.

Looking very 'wieldy'.

Reef ball hatching.

The Montserrat Reef Project has been working with the Reef Ball Foundation, a non-profit organisation that specialises in artificial reef technology, reef propagation and public education & outreach; these fibreglass moulds were specially designed and built by the foundation. This project itself has been propelled by the dedication of Emmy & Andrew, the ocean-loving owners of Scuba Montserrat.

I certainly was glad to break out the tools (and muscles, of course) for this worthwhile cause, as well as contribute towards some sort of direct investment of Montserrat's marine future. And given how the corals will take about a year to propagate to reefs, from the time of transplantation, I will just have to come back in a year's time for a dive to marvel at the fruition of this project!