I don’t remember a place where I’ve ever felt more alive

19 March 2014

Update by Claire: “Although much of the landscape of this black volcanic island is forbidding, there were beautiful surprises everywhere, perhaps the most being the people we met, beginning with a couple of concerned American military members who were delighted to give a fellow countrywoman a big hug and were more than ready to whisk me back to base to show me a good time had I not had to return to the ship for dinner; a bartender from nearby St. Helena who was more than happy to share her philosophies on a life well-lived with two curious young women (‘head held high, middle finger higher’), a fire-fighter who had just returned from the Congo who touchingly had his entire family’s faces tattooed on his arm so would always be able to see them, and two enthusiastic English conservation workers who, before going on their ‘sea turtle check’ (they ended up later at the same bar we did) told us all about what life was really like on the island—not as lonely as it seems (just don’t lose your job—it’s instant deportation!) From there, the night only got wilder as we headed to the pier with three new friends and their mobile bar. The pier some of us dived off didn’t look like much in the light of the next morning, but at night it was terrifying, at least for me at first, even if we witnessed the locals do it first and manage to survive. After the first jump (actually a push over which I had no control) I landed on poor Lotte, who was a bit shaken up and for which I must sincerely apologize. Later, figuring there was no point trying to sleep that night, I spent it on deck, continuing to drink and getting to understand some mysterious people better—and besides, we had sea turtles to watch the next morning, where, by the light of the full moon, we silently crept up to the prehistoric behemoths to watch them shovel out sand and lay the groundwork for the next generation. The next day I made a three-minute call home to talk my parents and dog, then Pablo and I combed tidal pools looking for treasures to bring home. I had to swim, but the beach I ended up at was a bit lonely– though nevertheless more picturesquely tropical than anything I expected to see, with water spurting out between black lava rocks whenever a wave crashed, while sea urchins, tiny fish, snails and red crabs scuttling in the depths. The ocean we had been crossing for a week before this was starting to feel like a desert, with nary a bird in sight—but here, despite what we’d read, there was life everywhere. For the record, the reports of Ascension Island being dead are greatly exaggerated—on the contrary, I don’t remember a place where I’ve ever felt more alive.”