Green and lovely, Pitcairn Island (settled by Christian Fletcher and some of his fellow mutineers) is one of the most isolated inhabited places in the world.
Accessible by small boat in good weather, it is too small a place and too tricky a landing for the Pacific Princess to either moor or tender passengers in. So, instead, the island comes to us.
Most of the island’s population came over in that boat, along with all of their wares (mostly wood carvings, stamps, honey, postcards, and tee-shirts) and soon a market has been established in one of the lounges.
The people themselves are funny and friendly, eager to make some sales, but also happy to talk about themselves and their lives on this tiny rock far out in the Pacific.
The market lasts most of the morning, we passengers shopping for souvenirs, the islanders shopping both in the ship’s store and below decks, where there are deals to be made for basic provisions like potatoes and a good supply of frozen meat.
But their safe return is dependent in large part on the wind and the tides (had we been here yesterday, they would not have been able come to the ship due to choppy waters) and by noon they are again loading up their boat for the return trip to their homes.