Atlantic Crossing, Part Two. From the crew of the Balance 526 Väster.
After more than 2,000 miles of open ocean, the first sight of St Helena does something strange to you. It is not just relief. There is a quiet pride that comes with it, and underneath that, a feeling that you can finally let your guard down. So many Balance owners have made this same passage before us, and many more will do it in the years to come. Arriving on this particular island, a single volcanic outcrop sitting almost exactly in the middle of nowhere, felt like joining something much bigger than one boat and one crossing.
First things first. We dropped anchor in James Bay and called the island ferry over to collect us, to take us into the customs office to check in.
Finding our land legs (and the water taxi we could not do without)
Stepping off the boat after that long at sea is its own small adventure. In our footage from that first morning the whole world tilts through the phone screen, all of us walking like we had borrowed someone else’s legs. The body spends days learning the rhythm of the ocean, then has to unlearn it just as quickly on solid ground.
The ferry, or water taxi, is the thread that holds the whole visit together. There is no marina here and the mooring field has been out of action, so every yacht anchors and every trip ashore happens by launch. Arriving dry, with the dinghy left safely behind, made the comings and goings far easier than wrestling a tender in the swell. It was excellent, and it was necessary. I came to look forward to that little run across the bay.
Becoming yacht club members, and the magic of the anchorage
One of the first things we did ashore was head to the St Helena Yacht Club, sign ourselves up as members, and enjoy a well earned drink with the locals. It is the only yacht club in the South Atlantic, and there is a nice resonance there for a South African built boat, because the club hosts the Governor’s Cup, the ocean race that runs from Cape Town across to James Bay.
What made the anchorage truly special, though, was the company. Anchored right up close to us were our friends on Windigo, the first ever Balance 580 to make this passage. We had a couple of hours together that evening before they left the next morning. You always hear stories about Balance owners visiting one another at anchor in far flung places. This was the first time I was part and parcel of one, and it was magical.
A word about the bank
Money on St Helena deserves its own mention, because it is one of those details that tells you exactly how remote you are. The island has its own currency, the St Helena Pound, pegged at parity with the British Pound but spendable only here and on Ascension. British Pounds are accepted freely, there are no cash machines anywhere on the island, and card acceptance is still limited, so the Bank of St Helena runs a clever prepaid Tourist Card system and a local tap to pay scheme to fill the gap. It is the kind of small logistical puzzle that becomes part of the charm. Plan a little, carry some cash, and the island looks after you.
Hiring a car and driving it all in our own time
We wanted to see the whole island on our own clock, so we hired a car. It was one of the best decisions of the stop. Driving St Helena yourself, at your own pace, is absolutely worth it.
The roads are single lane for the most part, hilly, and full of hairpins, with little passing bays where the etiquette is for the car going downhill to give way. You drive on the left, the limits are gentle, and the hire scene is wonderfully local and personal. None of it is polished. All of it is part of the experience.
The drive also takes you straight into the island’s living history. We made time for Jonathan, the giant tortoise who grazes the lawns of Plantation House, the Governor’s residence. He is thought to be more than 190 years old, the oldest known living land animal on the planet, and standing a few feet from a creature that was already an adult before the telephone was invented is a genuinely humbling thing. From there it is a short hop into Napoleon’s St Helena. This is the island where the emperor saw out his exile and died, and his presence is still everywhere. Longwood House, where he spent his final years, the Briars Pavilion where he first stayed, and his original tomb are all open to visitors and well worth building into the day.
And the island itself is a revelation. As you climb away from Jamestown the landscape turns lush and green, and the deeper you go the more it feels like a land before time, the sort of place where you half expect a dinosaur to wander across the road. By chance we found a tiny shop seemingly in the middle of nowhere that had everything we needed for lunch, and the shopkeeper turned out to be a wonderful host, happy to sit and trade stories about life on the island and how it has changed. That is the kind of encounter you simply do not find in places built up for tourism. It was a true delight.
Jamestown, Anne's Place, and a tradition we could not resist starting
Walking into Jamestown feels like stepping back a hundred years. It does not just look the part. The sounds and the pace of life are a real breath of fresh air from what we are used to on the mainland.
At the heart of it, for any visiting sailor, is Anne’s Place. It is a bit of a legend in the cruising world, part restaurant, part advice centre, part living scrapbook. Its ceiling is a canopy of flags from boats all over the world, and its visitors’ log books carry the names and stories of crews going back decades. Rummaging through those books, you find people who passed this way years ago, sometimes generations of the same family.
We loved it so much that, with the current log book almost full, we left them with a brand new one to start. So if you are a Balance owner reading this and you find yourself in St Helena, do not forget to sign the new book and put your sticker on the phone booth. We started that tradition right there, and we would love to see it carry on. The more the merrier.
The other Jamestown highlight was the weekly fish fry at the Yacht Club. We managed to arrange a one night only live gig for Catherine to play, hauling the sound gear over from Väster and setting up on the waterfront. Word spread fast that there was music on, and by the time the townspeople arrived the whole place was buzzing. It was one of those evenings that reminds you why you go to sea in the first place.
699 steps to say goodbye
We could not leave without taking on Jacob’s Ladder. These 699 steps run almost straight up the side of the valley out of Jamestown, an average incline of around 40 degrees, and they are every bit as tough as they look. The staircase is all that survives of an old inclined railway built back in 1829, and reaching the top is a genuine rite of passage. You can even collect a certificate for it from the museum at the bottom. We earned ours.
Before that final climb there were the less glamorous jobs that come with every passage. Captain Josh walked us through the maintenance checks, the engine room, the rig, the interior and the electrical inspection. We arranged the fuel barge, topped up the jerry cans, provisioned hard for fresh greens, and gave Väster a deep freshwater clean so she would be ready to go. Checking out customs had to happen on Friday, because nothing officially opens on the weekend, and we planned to leave on Sunday.
Until next time
Two thousand miles from anywhere, this incredibly unique piece of land gave us refuge, adventure, hospitality, supplies, and rest. There is far more to St Helena than I could ever fit into one video or one post, and if you ever find yourself passing this way, it rewards every minute you give it.
For us, the sea was calling again. Next stop, Fernando de Noronha, on the far side of the Atlantic.
Until next time, stay in balance.
Addendum: a practical guide for sailors visiting St Helena
A short reference for any owner or crew planning this stop. Details change, so confirm current procedures with Port Control and the official channels before you arrive.
Arrival and the ferry. St Helena is approached at James Bay on the northwest coast, the island’s only harbour. Yachts make radio contact with St Helena Radio on VHF Channel 16 well offshore, then with Port Control on VHF Channel 14 on close approach. The mooring field has been closed for maintenance, so yachts currently anchor and clear in through Immigration and Customs ashore. The passenger ferry runs across the bay through the day and is the standard way to get on and off the boat.
Money. The local currency is the St Helena Pound, at parity with Sterling and usable only on St Helena and Ascension. British Pounds are accepted everywhere. There are no ATMs on the island. The Bank of St Helena offers a prepaid Tourist Card and a local card payment scheme, plus cash advances against major cards for a small fee. Carry some cash and plan ahead.
Driving. You can drive on a valid overseas licence for up to three months. Traffic keeps to the left, limits are 30mph on the open road and lower in town, and roads are narrow, steep and winding with passing bays. Hire is handled by small local operators, mostly manual cars, and booking ahead is strongly advised because demand is high.
Anne’s Place. The traditional gathering point for sailors in Jamestown, set behind the Castle Gardens. Famous for its flag canopy, its visitors’ log books, and its fishcakes. Worth a visit on any day you are ashore.
Jacob’s Ladder. 699 steps from Jamestown up to Ladder Hill, the remains of an 1829 inclined railway, climbing roughly 183 metres at close to a 40 degree pitch. Complete it and you can claim a certificate from the Museum of St Helena at the base.
The island’s famous coffee. St Helena grows one of the rarest coffees in the world, a pure Green Tipped Bourbon Arabica grown from seed brought from Mocha in Yemen in 1733. Napoleon, exiled here in 1815, is said to have praised it as the one good thing about the island. Plantation tours can be arranged on-island and make a memorable half day.
Napoleon and history. Jonathan the tortoise aside, the island’s Napoleonic sites, Longwood House, the Briars Pavilion and Napoleon’s Tomb, are open on set days through the week and are worth building into a drive. The Museum of St Helena and the Jamestown walking tours round out the history.
Diving and the whale sharks. St Helena is a world-class diving destination, with accessible shipwrecks, dramatic volcanic topography, and water clarity that regularly runs past 30 metres. Its headline act is the whale shark aggregation. This is one of the only places on Earth where adult whale sharks, males and females alike, gather in roughly equal numbers, and you can snorkel alongside them under strict, well-managed guidelines. The catch is timing. The sharks are here through the southern summer, roughly December to March. We were not on the island in the right season for them, which is reason enough on its own to come back.
Climate and when to go. St Helena sits in the path of the southeast trade winds, which keep it mild and subtropical the year round, with temperatures mostly between 20 and 27 degrees Celsius. The island stays on GMT all year. The warmer summer months bring the best diving and the whale sharks, while the cooler middle of the year is quieter but still very comfortable for walking and exploring.
