Off to St Helena today - a small island in Moreton Bay. Beautiful sunny day, calm sea, a short journey by ferry. This island started as a quarantine centre - how of the times - and ended up as Queensland's first penal colony.
Its name has a story - An aboriginal man whose nickname was Napoleon was exiled to the island for stealing an axe. He was exiled to "Noogoon The place of the Flying Fox" the Aboriginal name for the island. Of course the real Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled to an island similarly called for six years until his death. In the case of this Napoleon he didn't think much of his prison, made a canoe from local trees and sailed off in a short period of time. The island however has been known as St Helena since 1828.
The island operated as a successful model prison for 65 years. Ruins suggest a well organised and cruel prison which was profitable. It was a harsh life for both the inmates and the prison wardens. There was a perimeter wall around the prison so they could not enjoy the beautiful views and the wonderful butterflies in their thousands which we saw. It was hard to reconcile what we were hearing with what we were seeing.
The island is now a National Park and most of it is restricted. However the prison is heritage listed and can be visited and it makes for a fascinating insight for the early days of the state. They died young from tuberculosis, phthisis, typhoid. They were flogged and whipped. The wardens had to live without their families for months on end and needless to say this was no a place for women.
We wandered over the prison area listening to the stories of the times, learning about the characters and their misdeeds. There was an Aboriginal called Julius Caesar. He was sentenced to 16 years of hard labour for murder. James Kenniff excelled at everything he undertook in the prison's workshops and when he finally left the prison he was given a set of tools with which to start a new life.
For me the day, tinged with the horrors of the system, was full of the affirmation of life and nature taking its place on and around the island once more. We saw Sting rays buried in the sand as we walked across the pontoon, oyster catchers, cormorants and bee eaters everywhere. Thousands of Monarch butterflies, Blue Tigers, Orange Ringlets and Painted ladies abounded on trees which offered their red and fertile fruit and flowers to them. It was just magical. Fields had crocuses and lilies in them, old Olive trees, once planted by a Superintendent to extract oil.
This is good management of both history, place and nature. Do visit - To go to the heritage areas you need a guide.
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