Saints Sing Themselves Silly
St. Helena Island is really, truly, an actual island. Only a year ago did I learn of its existence when first hearing the planned route for this sailing trip. Well, here I am breathing this perfect air, feeling the lush tropical grass between my toes, and swimming in the crystal clear waters.
This is one of the most relaxing and serene places I’ve ever been. There is no rush to anyone or anything here and I feel silly walking a step faster than the other locals casually going about their business downtown. There isn’t a rush because being on an island without an airport means there isn’t anywhere to go until the next royal mail ship arrives…six weeks from now. There isn’t a need to get to the next meeting because the population of 4,000 can be met within minutes or dialed on the telephone using four digits. Life here is at a refreshingly calm pace and it’s evident everywhere, including the local music scene.
After a visit to the local bank to withdraw money (there are no ATMs here) I see posted in the window an advertisement for a new book by young author Emma-Jane Yon titled “For The Love of The Music: Capturing the Enthusiasm and Passion of the Saints.” Bingo! Iâ??ve found the perfect resource in which to begin my search.
After reading the book cover to cover in just a few hours I learn the local music scene owes its roots to the first sailors who visited the island in the 16th, 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries. Sailors, like me, who never thought this island existed until they saw it with their own eyes rising out of the sea. Granted, these sailors had to endure bouts of scurvy, mutiny, treachery, famine, and rotten water between their brief stints of leisure time to perform music. While I on the other hand am trying to find a more comfortable position to brace myself against a rolling boat as I take a nap in the sun listening to my iPod. Regardless this sailor and the thousands before me rely on our music to get us through our weeks long passages at sea.
While music helps sailors pass time at sea, music is crucial to the citizens of St. Helena to help them pass the time waiting for the next mail ship. Luke, one young musician I spoke with, informed me that without music life on the island would be “unbearable and not worth living.” He added that there are no beaches to swim in, there is no breaking surf to surf in, and “we are tired of fishing so all we have left to do is make music.”
And make music they do. By the thousands of songs and hundreds of bands from the heydays of the 1960’s and ’80’s to a resurgence in bands during the last few years, the Saints are self-defined music fanatics. From synth and keyboard based dance bands to brass & marching bands using what could be instruments brought originally by the tall ships, the Saints create boat loads of music. Kids are found walking the streets with guitars slung over their shoulders. Mothers and children sing in the local restaurant when the CD player is on the fritz. Bands practice anywhere that might provide decent acoustics. Homemade instruments are created from old oilcans, scrap wood, fishing line, buckets, and anything else that could make a sound. The Saints are using all possible resources to create what they love.
Although rock, pop, and dance are growing in popularity on the island any visitor can easily, but surprisingly, determine that Saints love American country western music. Emma-Jane works for the only local FM radio station, Saint FM, and estimates 60-70% of what’s played is C&W. She says, “Since we’re a relatively young radio station our rotation is primarily influenced by listener requests.”
Photo of myself and author Emma-Jane Yon at the Saint FM studios.
So here I am on a tiny tropical British island in the South Atlantic that can only be reached by boat with a music-loving population of 4,000 people all listening to one radio station and primarily one genre, country. Whodâ??ve thunkit? I guarantee there is no other place like this. Or is there?
Thereâ??s only one way to find out, move on to the next port! We’re sailing for Rio de Janeiro, Brazil in the next few days to see what we’ll find there. It’s a three-week passage in the south Atlantic trade winds and I’ve got my iPod charged and a new playlist of country tunes. It’ll be a great journey.
