St Helena sits roughly halfway between Africa and South America, one of the most isolated inhabited islands on earth. AMADI’s Dawn Jorgensen visited recently, and what follows are her reflections on a destination that rewards a particular kind of traveller.
Mountainous, subtropical and shaped by shifting microclimates, it has an impressive diversity of landscapes. Formed around 12 million years ago, when the tip of a volcanic mountain broke through the sea’s surface, St Helena remained isolated, uninhabited and undiscovered until the Portuguese arrived by chance in 1502. For much of the following century, it was rarely visited. That changed in 1659, when the British East India Company took possession of the island and began the process of fortification that has left it scattered today with old cannons and crumbling stone forts.
Its strategic position made it an important place for restocking and refuelling passing vessels, and for a time its port received more than 1,000 ships a year. Over the centuries, St Helena also drew a range of notable visitors, including Edmond Halley, Captains Cook and Bligh, Charles Darwin and British royalty. Its isolation made it a natural place of exile too, most famously for Napoleon Bonaparte, who died on the island, but also for King Dinuzulu, Boer prisoners of war and Zulu leaders. Slaves, liberated Africans and Chinese indentured labourers also left a significant imprint on the island’s cultural heritage.
The opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 changed the island’s role dramatically, and St Helena became a quieter, increasingly forgotten outpost. For many years, it remained connected to the outside world primarily through the RMS St Helena, a passenger and cargo vessel operating between Cape Town, St Helena and Ascension Island. The voyage took around five days each way, carrying supplies, mail and the occasional traveller prepared to stay for weeks between sailings.
That changed in 2017, when St Helena Airport opened, connecting a population of around 4,000 Saints, as St Helenians are known, with weekly flights to and from South Africa. I arrived from Johannesburg, with a stop in Walvis Bay for refuelling. Getting to St Helena remains part of the journey, with tightly managed, weather-dependent landings and an approach over open ocean to a landing strip perched on a volcanic outcrop above the sea.
For such a small island, a week fills easily. On the drive from the airport to Jamestown – the capital – we passed through black volcanic landscapes, lush valleys, rural communities and historic sites. Jamestown lies tucked between steep mountains, with Georgian architecture, faded pastels and an old fortified waterfront.
A drive around St Helena the next day made the island feel much larger than it is. Winding roads reveal a landscape that shifts between volcanic outcrops, green valleys and unexpectedly lush, forested slopes. Ferns, bougainvillaea, New Zealand flax, mature trees and grazing cattle give parts of the island an almost Alpine feel, while homes sit high on the ridges above the sea.
Much of this was brought vividly to life by our guide, Saint Helenian Aaron Legg, one of the first to curate high-end experiences on the island. With place names such as Deadwood, Longwood, Sugar Loaf, Half Tree Hollow and the Gates of Chaos, St Helena has a sense of character that feels entirely its own.
It’s also a more active destination than one might imagine. We hiked, kayaked, walked the pathways around Jamestown, swam in the bay and snorkelled both a reef and a wreck in clear, warm water. Jacob’s Ladder, originally built in 1829 to move goods between Jamestown and Ladder Hill, remains one of the island’s most recognisable climbs, with views over the valley and harbour.
St Helena’s most infamous resident, Napoleon, may only have spent around six years on the island, but his presence remains one of the defining chapters. Exiled after Waterloo, he arrived in October 1815 and was initially housed at Briars Pavilion before being moved to Longwood House, where he lived under close supervision until his death. He was buried in Sane Valley, although his remains were returned to France in 1840.
The ocean is central to life here. The surrounding waters are clear and warm, with turtles, rays, dolphins and whale sharks, as well as eight accessible shipwrecks. The Papanui wreck lies in shallow water in James Bay, its stern occasionally breaking the surface. Sunk in 1911, it is now a sanctuary for marine life and can be reached by an easy swim from the shore. Whale sharks visit between December and April and dolphins frequently accompany you when out on the water.
Coffee is another part of the island’s story. St Helena’s green-tipped Bourbon Arabica beans are grown from stock introduced from Yemen in the 1700s and remain disease-free and unblended. Coffee tours offer a hands-on experience from harvest to cup, ending with a tasting that reflects the island’s distinctive character.
What makes St Helena so compelling is the way its landscape, history and people come together. Much of the island’s character is revealed through its guides: a politician who runs the e-biking, a French historian whose life’s work is documenting Napoleon’s time on the island and a woman running a return travel programme for visitors seeking ancestral links with St Helena.
There is also Eddie of the National Trust, protecting the island’s endemic wirebirds and other red-listed species; conservationist Stedson, who has discovered plant species new to the world; and marine biologists who swim with visitors while keeping careful watch on protected marine life.
St Helena suits a considered approach to travel: slowing down, not to do less, but to understand more. In this remote part of the world, my visit was shaped as much by its volcanic terrain and marine-rich waters as by its layered history and encounters with Saints themselves.
If this sounds like somewhere you’d like to explore, please do be in touch [email protected].