Welcome to Bunce Island
Our team arrived in Freetown yesterday so we could visit Bunce Island today. It was quite a day.
For those who may not know, Bunce Island
was where captured Africans awaited slave ships to begin their passage across
the Atlantic. 30,000 Africans passed through Bunce Island, most going to SC and
GA due to the rice growing skills of Africans in Sierra Leone.
Our day trip began at the ferry terminal. It
was a long wait as our boat had trouble locating fuel.
Plenty of time to visit the bathroom…except
I was the last one, and then the door stuck and I couldn't get out my little
stall!!! Screaming and beating on the door did not produce a rescue and no one
seemed to notice I was missing. FINALLY, one more person visited the loo and
heard me. Whew!
The boat ride was 20 miles (1 hour) long)
and the weather slightly overcast with calm seas. Really lovely. We passed all
of the city with mountains just beyond. Then, as we got further away, it seemed
exactly like riding in the rivers and large creeks of the Lowcountry.
Bunce Island is tiny. An easy walk across
it in any direction. And beautiful. The ruins of the old fort sit atop a hill.
Brick pathways, covered with bright green (and slippery) moss lead from the
boat ramp to the ruins. The island has enormous trees that our guide said are
called cotton trees, but I think we call them something else in the US. It is
all overgrown with grasses and some little
wildflower with an abundance of tiny bright yellow flowers. Calla lilies, stag
ferns, appear randomly.
It's also a silent and solemn place. Once
you step off the tiny dock on the beach, your eyes are drawn left to a mound of
black rock with remnants of a stone foundation holding an old cannon that
appears out of place. It leads right into the water. It is here where the
Africans' feet last touched their homeland. They walked to small boats across
those stones, which then moved them to the large slave vessels. Our guide told
us that the new African American Museum in Charleston was given one of the
stones to put on display in the museum.
Our guide was so knowledgeable about what
happened on Bunce Island and also what happened in Charleston when the ships
arrived, or in the islands when the ships went there.
We spent 2 hours on the island, following
our guide and hearing the stories. Occasionally, I just tried to stand by
myself to allow the enormity of what happened there sink in.
Man's inhumanity to man is hard to fathom
when you stand on that beautiful spot. Yet you can feel it in the heat, the
dampness, the green moss, the ruins of walls. Like being in a cemetery. And
knowing that my own ancestors profited from what happened on Bunce… that made
my feelings even more intense.
The ride back was choppier, with overcast
skies. We sat quietly for the most part. Really tired, and yet, for me anyway,
reflecting on what we had seen.
An experience I will always remember. With
huge thanks to TD who held my hand and kept me from falling on the rocks and
the moss.
I'm left with much to think about from
Bunce Island.




What a stirring description of the Island. You are a good writer, Ellen. I’m so glad you were rescued and that Tommy kept you safe. Reminds me of Easter Island where he kept Romayne safe. I have so enjoyed sharing your experience through your stories.
ReplyDelete"Screaming and beating on the [outhouse] door did not produce a rescue and no one seemed to notice I was missing." We're reading "Tommy" where you wrote "no one":-). Pretty darned moving description, e, of a somber day. Thanks (as always) for well-worded thoughts. See you tomorrow night at the airport. Joyce and w
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