50 the spectator | 29 february 2020 | http://www.spectator.co.ukLuxury villas
VILLA CETINALE
Available for private rental. Fully staffed and
restored to the highest standard.
Sleeps 25. Swimming pool, tennis court and
famous private gardens.Contact Isabella for bookings and enquiries-
[email protected]
See http://www.villacetinale.com for more details.“The most beautiful
villa in Tuscany”
Architectural Digest
15% discount
for Spectator
readersHelen’s Reef nearby. In 1904, the Danish
liner SS Norge was suddenly ripped open,
disappearing with her 650 passengers. The
danger persists: although a light beacon was
installed in 1972, it would not survive long.
So who’s in charge of Rockall? Angus
Macneil, MP for Na h-Eileanan an Iar (the
Western Isles)? Or the clan Mackay, who
claimed Rockall for their own as long ago
as 1846? Given the abundance of fish in
the area, Ireland and Iceland keep a beady
eye. And it was here, in 1997, that the last
land invasion of the UK came: protesting at
the growth of the oil industry, Greenpeace
squatted for six weeks on the rock they
redubbed Waveland. But, like the passports
they issued, the relics of their time on the
island were soon washed away.
Back to that invitation. Ten hearty souls
made the trip to Rockall as a fierce gale
blew in. After a five-day search for the
blasted island, the team at last summited
the rock. When they did, roughly the same
number of humans had set foot on the
moon. Scrambled eggs, champagne and a
general knees-up ensued. When drink ran
out, they leapt off the island, pilfering the
plaque and rewilding its rock.I
n 1978, an invitation was sent to some
200 members of Oxford’s Dangerous
Sports Club, which simply read: ‘Tea,
Rockall, Black Tie.’ The good news was
that invitees had never visited this part of
the UK; the bad was that it is way out west.
Forget Land’s End, or the Western Isles,
or even far-flung Fermanagh. First get to
the Outer Hebrides and then head into the
Atlantic for 230 miles or so. There a single
tooth of granite, 60-foot high, will emerge
from the waves. Welcome to Rockall, the last
acquisition of the British Empire.
Though known to the Vikings, and to
map-makers since the 16th century, Rockall
was until 1955 terra nullius: land claimed by
no one. No wonder. With no trees, no bush-
es, no shrubs, no soil, and no permanent
wildlife, Rockall is, well, all rock. But when
Britain started nuclear testing in the north
Atlantic, fears arose that this uninhabitable
island would give a foothold to Soviet spies.
So the Union Flag was raised in the 1950s,
and a brass plaque affixed: ‘Possession of the
island was taken in the name of Her Majesty.’
Tourism is not really on the cards. ‘No
place,’ the Lords were told when Rock-
all became part of Scotland, ‘is more deso-late, despairing and awful.’ It cannot sustain
human life; even the gannets and guillemots
that stop there are dislodged by storm waves
that wash over the entire island. Save for
the stoic periwinkle, there is no permanent
resident. Intrepid humans wanting to give
Rockall a go must bring supplies and lash
themselves Prometheus-like to Hall’s Ledge,
the only flat part of the rock. The record stay
— 45 desperate days spent in a bespoke plas-
tic pod —was set by Nick Hancock in 2014.
A couple of centuries earlier, in 1811,
HMS Endymion had made landfall on
Rockall. But most ships that end up there
do so unintentionally, foundering on it orAn 1862 etching of RockallNOTES ON ...
Rockall
By David Butterfield
Classified_29 Feb 2020_The Spectator 50 26/02/2020 10:51