TRESCO. Firstly I don’t want this to be read as a negative. It is more my memories and todays realities.
Taking the small boat from St, Mary’s we arrived at New Grimsby Quay. If I was lucky the boat was The Tean and old package boat. Bigger than the Nemo or Kinsley. More a working boat.. My style.
Mr. Chudley’s boat was there in the center of the harbor. The first sign we were “home” The Commodores yacht was also there in the sound between Tresco and Bryher.
First things first we needed ice cream from the small shop on the quay. A familiar “ding” from the bell as you opened the door. A block of vanilla was opened and a heavy slice of it was placed between two wafers. The only way to eat ice cream. Then we began the walk to the other side of the island. Along the quay road, past the row of stone cottages on the left. The post office was in the middle. Turning left onto Palaces Lane. Past the small pub The New Inn. With it’s aviary of singing birds in the garden. And on up t
he hill. Past Vernon Hicks at Dolphin House at the top past the Doctors office and we have the view of all views. Old Grimsby in front of you. St Martin’s across the sound. St Helens island, Round Island with its lighthouse. Men-a-V aur to the left.
Now down the hill towards the church left to Rose’s house on the left. Rose was always there at the gate as we went past. “Been expecting you,” she would say cheerfully. Past Rose and then to the school field with it’s donkey tethered. To the small shop on the left and the Hicks, Michael, his wife and son Godfery. And at last “home” Just Home. Uncle Eddie and aunty Ada.
The beach. The Block House. Mr. Clements house. And the shells on the beach. A local gardener, fisherman, and boatman grounds man occupied nearly every house. Today there are over 100 places to stay on Tresco. Now there are not many “local” families. I’m sure people live there to upkeep the properties. But it will never be what it was. For me a place of unbelievable beauty but at what cost. It has had its soul removed.