Ascension Island’s mid-Atlantic geography and Equatorial proximity lends it to communications of a wide variety. European Ariane and Russian Soyuz rockets are tracked by the European Space Agency; the BBC World Service runs a relay station; there is a GPS base station; and the Anglo-American militaries pursue their own interests.
The hardware relating to all this communications activity is visibly scattered about the island, but seems to intensify closer to Georgetown and, farther to the south, Wideawake Airfield at RAF Ascension.
Georgetown is the central administration area, a small village of temporary-looking buildings mixed around 19th century installations set in from Clarence Bay – about the best attempt at an anchorage the island can offer.
Georgetown and Clarence Bay
As we got closer to Georgetown an bewildering array of man-made trees, steel structures, masts of various sizes and heights, and arrays of wires and cables came into view. White buildings, parabolic dishes, and domes of varying sizes stretched along the coast.
The island is cobwebbed with antennae like these, provenance of the BBC.
These wind turbines power the BBC relay station, wind power broadcasting short wave vibes to Africa.
The land here is lower in profile but still craggy and uninviting. Neat little cones of volcanic rock are set back a little.
Other stations communicate with satellites.
Finally, the Clarence Bay anchorage came into view, marked by the appearance of two other sailboats at anchor disappearing periodically behind the unbroken Atlantic swell. Our Rocna anchor was going to earn its stripes.
Anchored well out was a large sealift ship, the MV Eddystone, a British naval auxiliary vessel.
We found a spot between a large floating hose siphoning petroleum products from tanker to shore, and a large shoal that projected out from the shore and dampened the swell. Anchoring in these conditions requires finding deeper water, 10 meters or more, and using plenty of scope to allow for the surge. A good long spring line is needed to absorb shock and protect the anchor chain as it goes taut on the uplift. This can snatch 25 tonnes of boat with enough force to stretch chain and damage deck bollards, not to mention unbalance a cup of coffee. As we have come to expect the Rocna did not budge.
A local self-propelled barge was moored to a buoy in the ideal spot but we got as close as prudent.
Georgetown began life as a naval base in the early 1800’s, and, with a resident population of less than 500, is now host to some basics of civilization: a supermarket, a post office, a hotel, and even a police station.
A small ferry launch was running out to the ship occasionally, and it picked up crew from one of the yachts. Watching the dangerous antics involved with the possibility of serious damage, we concluded that a shore visit to stretch one’s legs was not of the highest priority.
Kiwi Roa’s transatlantic was recontinued the next day.
This was to be the final leg of our diagonal crossing, traveling the bulk remaining of the 6,000 NM route from Namibia to Newfoundland. That passage was to include an isolated mid-ocean rock archipelago and a lethal depression which saw Peter dragging out the boat’s series drogue for the first time. Read about it at: Transatlantic.