Returning to St. Helena Island

I moved to the remote island of St. Helena when I was 7 years old.

Although my mam was born on the island, she hadn’t explained much about what to expect so I arrived full of fear and apprehension. Not only was I moving to a new place over 1,100 miles from mainland Africa, I hadn’t lived with my mam since my parents separated when I was 3. However, those anxious feelings quickly dissolved once I stepped off the RMS St. Helena into Jamestown after a 5-day voyage from Cape Town.

My childhood on the island

It had been 19 long years since my mam had been home and it’s fair to say that she received a welcome home party worthy of any Saint (the endearing nickname of people from St. Helena). Five uncles and their wives/partners/children awaited our arrival, along with myriad other family members and friends from my mam’s early years – all of whom welcomed me with open arms.

It didn’t take long before I came to think of St. Helena as my home and cherish its +/-4000 residents as my neighbours, friends, and family.

The majority of my childhood was spent exploring and playing. After school, I always checked in at Auntie Molly, Uncle Eric, and Patsy’s house. They looked after me whilst my mam worked long hours as the Air Access Project Manager – managing the build of the island’s first airport – and have had a profound positive effect on the rest of my life.

Once I was fed and they’d been caught up on all that occurred that day at school, I’d head straight to the pool (there was only one on the island) and spend a few hours swimming with friends. We’d then explore the areas of the town that people rarely visited, trying to stay out of sight of the adults whilst we played in the Run (a concrete water channel that runs through Jamestown) or tried to climb as high up the steep cliff edges as possible without falling into the tungis (cacti) below.

Fast forward nearly 5 years and I was waving a teary goodbye from the ship as I started my journey back to the UK. Although I loved the island and its people more than I could have ever imagined, when I stepped onto the dock as a terrified 11-year-old, I was adament that moving in with my dad was the right thing to do (and I still agree).

Back in the UK

After my mam passed away when I was 15, my chances of going back to the island became slim. The cost of travel – even with a new airport – was more than I thought I could ever afford and slowly, my life on St. Helena became a distant memory, and 15 years passed by in a flash.

In 2022, I began studying for a master’s in Biodiversity & Conservation at the University of Leeds and my first module was the one I was looking forward to most, Insect Identification Skills. Since I had completed my bachelor’s degree online, it was my first taste of the uni-experience and my first chance to work in a lab so it’s fair to say I was eager and a little nervous.

During my second day at Leeds, I was examining hoverflies under a microscope when I thought I overheard “St. Helena” mentioned within a conversation between my module lead, Steve, and his colleague. I made my way over to them and asked if I had heard correctly.

To my amazement, my suspicions were confirmed and I was informed that Steve’s close friend and another lecturer on the module, Dr. Roger Key, was over there as we spoke conducting research. Steve was shocked to hear of my background and informed me that, if I was interested, he should be able to create a thesis project that would take me back to help Roger with his work. It seemed like the stars were perfectly aligned!

I tried not to get my hopes up too much but surely enough, with my partner, Jordan, by my side, I was making the journey back to St. Helena in June 2023. My thesis would see me conduct research on the biocontrol impacts of a chalcid wasp (Megastigmus transvaalensis) against an invasive Wild Mango (Schinus terebinthifolia).

You can read more about my research here.

Returning after 15 years

After two unsuccessful landings at St. Helena airport due to side winds, it’s fair to say that I was a bag of nerves as the plane came in for its third attempt. Would the island be as wonderful as I remember? Would my family welcome me? Would Jordan enjoy his time here? Am I skilled enough to conduct this research? Many people had warned me that I may have built the island up in my head and, in reality, my memories may be far from the truth.

However, my nerves dissolved instantly as I saw the lush green cloud forests out of the window and we were greeted by waves and smiles from my family as we stepped off the plane.

Although we’d all changed physically in 15 years, it felt like no time had passed as I reunited with my family and friends and Jordan was taken in as one of their own.

Thanks mainly to the island’s remote setting, since I had left in 2008, very little had changed. Buildings – although given a lick of paint – were largely untouched. Donny’s was still the go-to Friday night bar. My primary school was still buzzing with children. The market where my Nanny Dot owned a cafe was still open and busy.

The people were just as friendly and welcoming as I remembered. Each passing car still waved to each other and everyone said a friendly “hello” on the street. Every day, someone popped by Patsy’s to share the potatoes, onions, bread, or fish they had managed to acquire. In the pub, people rarely bought their own drinks and those seen walking out of town wouldn’t need to walk far without being offered a lift.

And, of course, the landscape was just as breathtaking and diverse. With rocky cliffs, pebble beaches, multi-coloured deserts, shrubby woodland, and lush cloud forest – the island offers so much in such a small space. Miles upon miles of ridges and valleys make for perfect hiking trails and photography opportunities, as well as the opportunity to wonder at St. Helena’s fascinating ecology.

The island has over 400 endemic species (only found on St. Helena) including the spiky yellow woodlouse (Pseudolaureola atlantica) and the blushing snail (Succinea sanctaehelenae), and is an internationally important breeding site for seabirds.

Due to the high cost of internet, technology hadn’t had the same impact that it had on the rest of the world. Mobile phones were rarely seen outside of the house meaning that quality time was uninterrupted and often spontaneous. Unlike before, travel had become easier since the opening of the airport so tourists were more common (although minute compared to European islands).

Jordan spent the first two weeks with me, acting as my field assistant as we collected seeds from remote locations across the island. When we weren’t working, we were spending time with loved ones – eating a year’s worth of fish (my idea of heaven!), sharing old memories, and catching up on what we’d missed since we’d been apart. After 9 years together, Jordan could finally put faces and places to names, and understand why, even after so long, St. Helena was always my home.

After Jordan left to return to work, I spent my remaining 2 weeks trying to take in the beautiful island and its people while I continued my research. My days were usually spent buried in a microscope. My evenings would find me driving out of town to visit family. And my nights were often spent laughing at The Standard pub with friends.

As always happens when you’re having fun, the days flew by and it wasn’t long before I was back at the airport, surrounded by my friends and family, waving a teary goodbye as I walked onto the plane.

St. Helena is a special place. Its remoteness is both a blessing and a curse. It’s a place where time seems to slow down, where the outside world feels distant, and where relationships are at the heart of everything. Despite the years that had passed, St. Helena embraced me as if I had never left, reminding me that this small island in the middle of the South Atlantic will always be a part of who I am.

The people, the laughter, the quiet moments, and the feeling of belonging – it was all there, waiting for me whenever I needed to return. The island had shaped who I was, and as the plane flew to Johannesburg, I realised just how deeply those roots ran. Coming back had shown me how much of St. Helena had stayed within me all these years and will continue to stay with me until I return.