Off-islanding

No sooner had we arrived on St Mary's it seemed odd that we spent the next few days trying to get off it, constantly checking the daily timetable of boats from the chalkboards along the quay or in town. Our desire to escape was no reflection on St Mary's, which we would explore a few days later, but only to make the best of the weather (always a consideration when travelling in the UK). 

The Seahorse

'Off-islanding' as commuting between the archipelago is known, is done, as you would expect, by boat. The main service between the islands is run by St Mary's Boatmen's Association, a co-operative set up in 1958 and made up of ten independently run and brightly coloured boats with appropriate seaworthy names (no 'Boaty McBoatface' here). You can even buy a small wooden kit to make a model of your favourite from the fleet (Seahorse, Kingfisher, Sapphire, Meridian, Osprey, Sea King, Golden Spray, Surprise, Britannia and Guiding Star). I certainly had my favourite, the scarlet Seahorse which had its own very keen spaniel crew member, who completed a swift check of all passengers with his velvety nose on boarding.

The sailor spaniel, checking passengers on board

As a long-time, long-distance commuter I loved the daily boat trips, scoffing breakfast and racing down to the quay to catch a trip to our next island adventure. Perched on the hard wooden benches it was practically a necessity to strike up conversations with the stranger pressed up against you, easy chats with fellow explorers and occasionally an islander. 

Tightly packed, conversations with strangers are a necessity

Tickets for a return trip to any of the islands cost £12 (adult fare; children £6; dogs £2), sold at the quayside kiosk, a couple of shops and at the tourist information centre on Porthcressa Beach. In addition to travelling to each of the main islands, there are also trips to the Bishops Rock (England's most westerly lighthouse) and bird watching specials to Annet, Norrard Rocks and the Eastern Isles to see puffins, shearwaters and seals as well as evening 'supper boats' to St Agnes and St Martin's. On sunny mornings the queue at the kiosk sometimes snaked almost back to the Mermaid pub but it was possible to 'jump' the queue with cash and pay at a side window. I'd strongly suggest to ask from which steps your boat will board (they are numbered) or you may find yourself with a different itinerary than intended as we nearly did. 

The Meridian

Excited by the whole prospect of being on a boat, mesmerised by the sunlight slicing through the turquoise sea and basically daydreaming of escaping life on the 'mainland', we forgot to pay too much attention to the somewhat important announcement of the details of the return journey from Tresco. The crew must see this every season, passengers lost in the romance of travelling by boat and failing to appreciate the tidal differences that mean the return is from the other end of the island at certain points in the day. Not that this is a major issue with all of the smaller islands being no more than a few kilometres in length, although its surprisingly hard to cover even a short distance at speed after a bottle of local cider.

Westward Farm dry cider

Stopping off for lunch at the relaxed beachside (and a little pricey) Flying Boat Cafe in New Grimsby on Tresco, mid-way through a round the island walk, we failed to consider the combined effects of delicious food, a sunny afternoon and alcohol. The second half of the walk we despatched with the map and followed our noses past idyllic houses hidden in blue clouds of swaying agapanthus, almost stumbling onto empty beaches edged with triangular Norfolk Island pines. It was a joy to get lost. 

Agapanthus and crocosmia growing wild

As we picked up the track again and rounded the reed fringed circle of Abbey Pool and then got sidetracked through the heather to Great Rock Beach, one of us spotted a tiny scarlet boat chugging back to St Mary's. The Seahorse, long since departed on the return journey from the quay at Carn Near leaving us just under an hour to head back up to the high water quay at New Grimsby to catch the last boat. Speed walking back onto the track (as fast as the cider would allow us) and reaching the hill behind the heliport we must have looked the rarest of island visitors, people in a rush. A Tresco buggy (used for ferrying luggage and passengers from the heliport) stopped in surprise at seeing our sweaty red faces as we marched up the track and kindly offered us a lift, offering up lots of island tips as well as a chance to rest our weary feet.

View from the last boat

As the boat left the high water quay at New Grimsby, we laughed at our typically mainland stresses of 'missing the connection'. So what if we had? I'd have happily sunk a few more bottles of cider and slept on the golden sands of Appletree Bay until woken by the spaniel sailor, leading the rescue fleet.