Staying near the top of Green Mountain, Ascension Island

On Thursday, March 15, the only slight excitement as we sailed the calm Atlantic seas was that a large tanker passed within about two miles of us.  On Friday, March 16,  Ascension Island came into view out of the haze and we dropped anchor about half a mile off the Georgetown pierhead.  Again, the drill of lifejackets, down some steep stairs onto a pontoon tied to the ship, jump the gap to a launch, motor in to shore and jump another gap onto the "pier."  The pier is just a concrete pad at sea level with steep steps leading up to the top of the low cliff on which the port sits.  We had arranged to hire a car - a Ford Focus - from Mr. Birdie, the owner of the only petrol station on the island who sent his daughter (?) to meet us at the port.  The daughter, a saint as are most people living on Ascension, was anxious to get back home to finish packing, since she was leaving for St. Helena that evening on the RMS. We then drove to the foothills of the major mountain (extinct volcano) on the island and up the 18 hairpin bend road, nearly to the top at about 2,800 feet, where we have rented Garden Cottage.  It was the residence of the farm manager in the days when there was a farm here,  including 50 milking cows.  With the advent of more frequent supply ships the farm was abandoned about 20 years ago.  The pigsties and cowsheds are derelict and overgrown.  For a week, we are living at a higher elevation than anyone on the island!  The mountain top is usually cloud-covered and has frequent rain showers, so we are living in a tropical jungle.  (Everything  in the cottage is damper than you can possibly imagine!)  That means a variety and abundance of beautiful flowers, ferns, bananas and other plants and a variety of insects, including cockroaches, and geckos.  We also have rabbits and the occasional wild sheep grazing on our lawn!  On Saturday, March 17, we visited the ruins of Fort Hayes in Georgetown.  Ascension was claimed and occupied by the British in 1815 and fortified to defend against any French attempt to use it as a base to rescue Napoleon.  Late that afternoon, we went to the pier in hopes of getting some fresh fish.  One small sport fishing boat did return with two four foot long dorado and some Brits kindly gave us about five pounds of fish, filleted right there on the pier!  We made good use of the fish in a lunch party the following Monday for several fellow-travelers with whom we have been crossing paths on the ship and on St. Helena - a geologist from Dublin, two young men making a film about the flora and fauna of the remaining British Overseas Territories, and a retired man from Northamptonshire and his wife, whose grandfather was once Postmaster in St. Helena.