Category Archives: Annie Brassey

In sympathy with Annie

Coming to the small island east of Bali, Nusa Lembongan, I took the slow boat from Sanur, along with boxes of supplies, wood for building and various other stuff we were bundled into the back of the boat with. I don’t have any memories of being seasick, ever. Even since leaving the UK in September I’ve travelled on big boats and small, ferries, kayaks, canoes, yachts, motor boats, river boats, speed boats, without any problem. On Monday I felt a little queasy during the hour and a half trip across. On Tuesday I went no more than 5 minutes on a speed boat for my first dive in the sea (I’ve long harboured an ambition to do the PADI open water course). I felt dreadful. Admittedly, the sea was really rough, an effect from some wild weather off Northern Australia apparently.

I back rolled into the water, no problem, sunk to the bottom (eventually), and a combination of feeling queasy, not being entirely sure about the new sensations, and finding it hard to swallow to equalise. I went back up. What was worse was then having to spend the next 40 minutes in the boat while I waited for everyone else to do their dive before going back to shore. If I had anything in my belly I would have lost it. On Wednesday I took an anti sickness tablet. I tried again, while not as bad, still feeling queasy, to go diving did not feel right. I got in the water and got back out again. I knew this was mixed with nerves (traumatised since watching Jaws as a child!). I felt very disappointed but thought that perhaps I had reached my limitations, that this wasn’t for me.

Annie Brassey circumnavigated the globe on several occasions. She sailed from the UK all the way around the world on no less than three occasions. In addition to this she made many other seafaring journeys of some distance, taking in India, South America, Canada, Australia to name just a few. Annie suffered severely with seasickness. I have no idea how she managed it, out at sea for months at a time. I have renewed respect for Annie.

The happy ending to this story is that I had the chance to take my time and build my confidence with all my diving skills ticked off in the pool before going back out into open water. A very nervous Friday morning (awake at 4am) I went out to sea. The weather has quietened considerably since the start of the week and the reef was like an aquarium. Two dives later and I am jubilant, although a little nervous about what is to come. Today (Saturday) I am just back from my two deep water dives and passed my exam. I am now a PADI approved open water diver! Ridiculously excited. Off to celebrate.

There are no tuk tuks in Penang

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The sign says 327km to Kuala Lumpar. The landscape is greener, with a greater variety of trees and shrubs. Increasingly colourful, flowers can be seen in reds, oranges, yellows and now purples too. Leaving the island of Penang and heading for Kuala Lumpar, I have arrived in Malaysia. Another shift in culture, language and infrastructure. The roads are densely packed with cars, the roads are densely packed, and initially suggest that I could be on the A21 or the M25, housing estates along the road leave me thinking I could be in Eastbourne.

I have been travelling by bus through Malaysia, so am missing the trains. It has meant I can visit places not on the train lines though (like Melaka which is lovely).

Chew Jetty, Penang (Louise Kenward, 2013)

Since Annie Brassey visited in 1879, Penang has grown and been heavily developed. Staying in Georgetown, however (now a UNESCO World Heritage Site) much of what she saw is still intact. The large colonial buildings can still be seen, like city hall. Chew jetty has been preserved and Penang Hill remains, although the view rather different from Annie’s.

Funicular Railway, Penang Hill (Louise Kenward, 2013)

View from the top of Penang Hill (Louise Kenward, 2013)

Leaving another country takes a while to get used to. Adjusting to a new place and noticing the differences. Venturing into an increasingly ‘developed’ world I’m missing the haggling and contact with people at market stalls and hawker stands. Venturing back down Penang Hill, on the super new funicular/venicular train I arrive to a dark and quiet spot, half an hour’s drive from Georgetown. Teksi’s are all booked and awaiting customers and there are no tuk tuks in Penang.

After some time, the 204 bus arrives and I’m once again reminded of the kindness of strangers.

Victoria

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Happy Valley Races, Hong Kong (Louise Kenward, 2013)

A particularly colonial couple of days have been spent treading in Annie’s footsteps and following up a mission from Bexhill Museum. Arriving in Hong Kong the weather and landscape has become more tropical, a balmy 27 degrees and beautiful flowering plants make my time here feel more like I’m on holiday.
Annie does not write very much about her time here, it was only a brief stay of a couple of days, a visit to Government House could not be replicated unfortunately, but she does talk in some detail of her trip to the races:

“We were puzzled to imagine where, on this rocky, hilly island there could possibly be found a piece of ground flat enough for a race-course. But the mystery was solved when we reached a lovely little valley, about two miles from the town, where we found a very fair course, about the size of that at Chester, but not so dangerous. The grand stand is a picturesque object, with its thatched roof, verandahs, and sun-blinds. the interior, too, looks comfortably arranged, and certainly contains the most luxurious basket chairs one could possibly desire. There are a lawn and paddock attached, and very good temporary stables, over many of which are private stands and tiffin rooms…” (from Voyage on the Sunbeam, 1876-77).

A great fire some years ago saw off the thatched roof and the race track has been modernised over the years, but The Happy Valley Racecourse remains a key attraction of Hong Kong Island. Visiting there last night it continues to be a site with great atmosphere (albeit a somewhat altered view since Annie’s arrival) surrounded by tower blocks and skyscrapers, lights flashing and glittering in the night’s sky. Most of that which is flat ground today has in fact been reclaimed from the sea. Annie’s Hong Kong (or Victoria) was entirely mountainous, at least three main roads and streets in between have been built in the last 20 years alone, so Victoria Harbour remains, albeit a bit further out to sea than it was in 1877.
The complex social and political history of Hong Kong has left it with a mixture of British and Chinese characteristics, and many traces of colonialism remain (despite post boxes being painted green). Another link with Bexhill is the statue of Queen Victoria which was made in Pimlico by a founder of the museum, and which I was duly sent to look for on my arrival. She has had quite an eventful time having been relocated from Statue Square, painted red as an act of protest by a local artist, and finally placed at the entrance of Victoria Park, for what I hope is a more restful place to remain. Some time was spent searching the park without success, works were being done along the harbour side and I feared she had again been removed. In a final attempt I eventually resorted to showing people pictures of the statue from ‘google’ on my ipad, in asking if they knew it, and helpfully being pointed in the right direction. Delight at her discovery, this did little to make me feel I was integrating terribly well.

Queen Victoria Statue, Victoria Park, Hong Kong (Louise Kenward, 2013)

Hong Kong (Louise Kenward, 2013)

St Petersburg

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The first stop for a couple of days is also the first time my path will cross with Annie Brassey’s. All the information in the hotel brochure details statistics about transport and architecture. Apparently the ‘capital of trams’, there are a lot here, it has a Guinness World Record of 600 kilometres of tramway. My preferred transport is on foot (exhausting after a few days) or by metro, the stations of which are a wonder in themselves, several are particular tourist attractions for their decoration and grandeur. The metros are apparently the deepest in the world, of up to 70-80 metres, initially a slightly daunting prospect at the top of the escalator. It is also a city of rivers and waterways, rivalling Venice and Birmingham with 217.5 kilometres of canals. Only the canals would have existed when Annie visited on her ‘Flight of the Meteor’ in 1866. St Petersburg is however mostly known for the grandeur and scale of its palaces, cathedrals and churches. It is not good enough merely to paint the building a vibrant colour, it is mostly then adorned with reliefs and statues, often then painted gold. An awesome skyline, it aids navigation around the busy city to spot a golden turret here or a heavily decorated roof there.

The Church on Spilled Blood (The Church of our Saviour)

Time was spent today, however, escaping the bustle of Nevsky Prospekt, and taking in the tranquility of the Botanical Gardens. While I have as yet been unable to read Annie’s account of her time here, I felt there was a pretty good chance that she would have visited the gardens. ‘The Flight of the Meteor’ was only published privately and unlike her latter blockbusters, has not yet seen a reprint. The Botanical Gardens have been here since 1823, so they existed at the time of her visit, and therefore stand a good chance of her having visited them. Although there probably wasn’t a Burlesque bar opposite then.

Joining a guided tour I hoped to learn more about the history to be able to compare notes with 1866. After a pleasant hour of being spoken to in Russian I learned little but did enjoy access to the temperate greenhouses. The luscious greenery of the inside contrasted starkly with the lacklustre outside. It seems to be undergoing a transitional time, appropriately in October, but buildings have been poorly maintained while new ones are under construction. The museum was also closed which was a shame, I shall have to find out more the old fashioned way, through google.

In memory of Annie

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From expeditions into the Borneo jungle and meeting with the Sultan of Brunei, to collecting botanical and geological treasures in South America and seeing off pirates in China, Annie Brassey’s adventures were notable by anyone’s standards. In the late 1800’s they were all the more compelling. Twenty eight years of travel and Annie had left few stones unturned. Along the way she also did great work for the health and safety of employees, identifying the need and promotion of early versions of first aid and the development of the St John Ambulance. Annie’s legacy goes far beyond her wanderlust. When at home in the UK she promoted the arts and saw this very much as a tool to improve the quality of life for those less fortunate than herself.

“…we dropped our anchor in the Mersey, exactly three months and a day after we left it, in the “Hibernia” on the 9th of August. During that time how much we have seen, and how much we have to be thankful for!

The entire change of air, of scene, and consequently of thought, has refreshed us all both in body and mind, and inspired us with renewed vigour for the duties and pleasures of home life.” A.B. 1872

Life on Board the Sunbeam – crossing the equator celebrations (photograph taken with kind permission of Hastings Library from one of Annie’s photograph album c1887)

Annie sadly lost her fight with malaria shortly after this photograph was taken. On this day in 1887 Annie died at sea, surrounded by her family. Her son TAB recorded her last days in his own account of this ‘Last Voyage’.

“Monday September 12th – Last night we all thought mother better, but this morning I was fanning her as she lay asleep, and I felt by the expression on her face that the end was not far off. The conviction came on me like a sudden blow. She has been so often very ill before that I always thought she would pull through now…

Tuesday September 13th – This morning mother was much weaker; she was generally asleep, and when she was awake her mind was wondering. In the afternoon, about 4 o’clock, when father, Mabelle and I were in the room, she suddenly opened her eyes and we saw that she was conscious. We called the children in at once, when she saw us all crying she said: “Is it quite hopeless then?” and father replied: “we can only put our trust in God”. We asked her if there was any wishes she wanted carrying out. She gasped out something about photographs which were in the cupboard at her side…She spoke with great difficulty, but we made out that she wanted the journal on which she had spent so much pains to be published, and she must have meant it to be illustrated by the photographs….We all kissed her in turn. Father read a prayer, she had the strength to put her arm around his neck and then exhausted with the effort she lost consciousness…” TAB 1887

Annie died just off the coast of Australia, following their last stop at Darwin. She was buried at sea the same evening at sunset.

“…Nothing can be more solemn or more impressive than a funeral at sea, and it was a fitting end for her who loved the sea so well.” TAB 1887

Sunbeam

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This week’s research has taken me to the National Maritime Museum, Greenwich (UK). The only remains of the Sunbeam, the vessel that sailed and steamed around the world so many times, is the figurehead. Dedicated to Constance, it is said to bear some likeness to Annie’s daughter, who died aged 4 of scarlet fever. It is thought the first round the world voyage was in part a response to this loss.

Figurehead of Sunbeam (photograph Louise Kenward)

Figurehead of Sunbeam – National Maritime Museum (photograph Louise Kenward)

Figurehead Sunbeam – National Maritime Museum (photograph Louise Kenward)

Photographs, sadly don’t do it justice. The golden glow of the sculpture quietly set it apart from everything that surrounded it. Much larger, more brightly coloured figureheads compete for attention in the museum space. The closeness to the floor, and the viewers ability to stand in front of it, almost the full size of me, made it a much more personal connection. This object of wonder, in conjunction with the knowledge of the voyages and history it represents offers one of the few tangible connections with Annie. I found this perhaps as moving as seeing her handwriting, in the journal of her Tour of Scandinavia.

Bexhill to Bexhill

A journey by train with a nod to Annie Brassey