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We Bought an Island #1
We Bought An Island
Evelyn Atkins and her sister Babs were two middle-aged spinsters who lived in suburban Surrey and led the humdrum life of so many commuters. Like others, Evelyn dreamed of owning an island. And Evelyn was a very determined daydreamer...
Then Evelyn broke her leg and it meant an early retirement from her demanding job. The two sisters scraped together the money for a dilapidated cottage in Cornwall. From the cliffs they could see tiny Looe Island glimmering tantalisingly in the sunshine. Then came the momentous day when the island came up for sale. Needless to say, Evelyn and Babs were soon the proud - though somewhat bemused - owners.
Life on an island certainly seemed to raise a lot of problems. But, while the locals looked on with scepticism, the two sisters, nothing daunted, rallied to meet the biggest adventure of their lives.
Then Evelyn broke her leg and it meant an early retirement from her demanding job. The two sisters scraped together the money for a dilapidated cottage in Cornwall. From the cliffs they could see tiny Looe Island glimmering tantalisingly in the sunshine. Then came the momentous day when the island came up for sale. Needless to say, Evelyn and Babs were soon the proud - though somewhat bemused - owners.
Life on an island certainly seemed to raise a lot of problems. But, while the locals looked on with scepticism, the two sisters, nothing daunted, rallied to meet the biggest adventure of their lives.
148 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1976
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February 22, 2025
“Below at last was the sea shimmering in the early morning sunlight, but what riveted my gaze in spellbound astonishment was what I thought at first must be a mirage. There, beyond Hannafore, rising like a lost Atlantis out of the mist, was an island. Tender and green in the soft morning light it looked infinitely alluring as the mists melted in the rays of the rising sun. Enchanted, I took a photograph, although I knew that no camera could capture the evanescent quality of the light or the magic of that moment of discovery.”
It feels like a dream experience, doesn’t it? And that quality stays with the reader for many years after reading this true account. At least it did for me.
The events described take place in 1962, We Bought an Island being published 2 years later, and I first read the book avidly just over a decade later. It passed the time nicely as I was strap-hanging on the tube train; in fact several times I would come dangerously close to missing my stop! Strange that as a young professional I could totally empathise with the two elderly ladies (for they were of the generation and class who would far prefer this designation to the term “women”) in this book. Strange too, that now, reading this many years down the track, I have the same responses.
“Less than a mile away it looked tantalisingly close yet with the sea between, elusively remote. Rising gracefully to the sky it looked like the tip of a submerged mountain. It seemed another world. Did anyone live there? We could see a cottage nestling in the woods below the slope of the summit and a house and a low building on the distant headland where the eastern tip ran down to the sea. How to set foot on the island? For that we must surely do.”
If you have ever dreamed of leaving the rat-race, you will recognise a fellow spirit in Evelyn and Babs Atkins. Living in a large desirable house in Epsom, part of suburban Surrey, their lives were comfortable and orderly. They had good jobs, many friends, pursued fulfilling outside interests and had full social lives. Yet they had a dream … and the dream would not be quashed.
We Bought an Island has been criticised as not sticking to chapter and verse of how to actually go about it, should this also be your dream. All I say to those who object on these grounds, is talk to an estate agent if you want to read a “how to” book! This book is the quirky autobiography of two rather eccentric English ladies, telling the part of their lives when they confounded the stereotype, not to mention: “the Wailing Winnies chorus of our friends.” It was not easy. “We, too, sometimes had our moments of doubt and despair. It is difficult to ride the crest of a wave all the time.” Nevertheless they persevered, and did something wildly improbable; something which should never have worked, but by which they achieved their wildest dream, which others had said was merely a pipedream.
The book starts when Evelyn broke her leg, necessitating a lengthy recovery period, and an early retirement from her demanding job as head of personnel at I.C.I. We read a lively account of how she “fell into” a job for the Coal Board (whilst not understanding the least thing about coal) mostly because she had to register as unemployed, and therefore eventually had to accept a job. Her bemusement at the ins and outs of the Benefits system paves the way very well for the later picture we gain of the two sisters as innocents abroad.
We learn about her sister Babs too, a talented deputy headmistress of a Surrey school, who was a few years younger than Evelyn. And we learn the family history, which is absorbing in itself. Their father, William, had run away to sea at 13. He returned home, but still yearned for the sea. Their mother had a string of suitable beaux; however, there was something about the rather wild William. The couple eloped, and she proceeded to take lodgings in every port where William was expected to dock.
“Mother told us that when she married she could not even boil an egg, for in those solid Victorian days there were always servants for domestic chores even in middle class households. Nevertheless she was a fine needlewoman and made all our clothes, even the boys suits, when they were young.”
I did wonder how this family became so prosperous, once they had turned their backs on their comparatively wealthy heritage. But detailing this family history revealed that the grit and tenacity the sisters exhibit in the book, might well have come from the examples they and their brothers had been witness to throughout their lives. Their daredevil brothers, sadly had both died at the age of 39.
Please do not expect to necessarily identify with the Atkins sisters’ background experience. Not only were they from an upper-middle class English family, but also one from very much an earlier time, with rigid social codes. They accepted that it was normal to have a woman who came to clean, and whose husband took care of their huge garden. Another example is that they were seriously challenged by what to do with their collection of ball gowns, once they had bought their island. They hosted ambitious themed fancy dress parties, staged amateur dramatics, and along with their wide circle of friends, attended cocktail parties on a regular basis. Their calendar was also crammed with interesting but expensive hobbies and pastimes. Along with the hectic diary of social events, they led comfortable, some might say privileged, lives:
“A good detached house in Surrey, near the Epsom Downs racecourse, with lovely landscaped gardens. Standard roses [led] to an archway of ramblers; this led through from the lawn and flower borders to fruit trees, more lawn, vegetable patch and so on to a copse where it was a delight to swing in a hammock, with the sun dappling one’s face, listening to bird song and the murmur of insects and the breeze rippling through the leaves … We had a “treasure” Mrs Penman, who came three hours every day, and and a gardener of the old school who tended the garden one day every week”
No wonder our friends thought we were mad to give all this up to live alone on an island off the wild coast of Cornwall.”
The events read like an extraordinary set of coincidences. Evelyn had decided she wanted to work with ceramics and create a pottery, despite the fact that she had never thrown a pot in her life. One holiday, the two sisters set off for Cornwall, and bought a side-by-side pair of cottages in the coastal town of Looe. One was quite dilapidated, and they hoped to install a kiln in there, and convert it into a thriving concern, whilst living in the neighbouring one. Babs would no doubt find teaching employment locally, they thought. But walking their dog on the cliffs nearby, Evelyn could see a tiny island glimmering tantalisingly in the sunshine. She scrambled back to the cottage to tell her sister. How could they resist finding out about this paradise? They simply had to step foot on it for themselves.
The island was no mirage. It lay about one mile off the coast near Looe. A natural sanctuary for sea and woodland birds, and partly wooded, it was of outstanding natural beauty in anyone’s eyes. It measured 22.5 acres in area and one mile in circumference. The sisters learned as much as they could from the local people. “St. George Island” had magnificent sea and coastal views, stretching from Prawle Point in Devon to the Lizard Peninsula. Frost and snow were virtually unknown there, as it had an exceptionally mild climate. Many flowers were even in bloom as early as Christmas. They learned some of the history of the island: that at one time it was a smugglers’ haunt, and there were the remains of a Benedictine chapel built in 1139. Legend had it that Joseph of Arimethea landed there with the Christ child.
Not surprisingly “St. George Island” was owned already, by a couple who fiercely guarded their privacy. Why else would they consider living in such an inaccessible place? There was no way of communicating with the island except by going there. And there was no proper landing stage on the shingle beach. But there was talk that the elderly couple were becoming frail, and considering putting the island up for sale.
Events conspired to Evelyn and Babs’s advantage, and the local people seemed to fall over themselves to help. These two sisters seemed possess an irresistible charm! Or perhaps it is simply the way of the English. We like eccentricity; admire the tenacity of fighting against the odds for something you value, and usually support the underdog in any situation.
Solicitors, estate agents, removals men, handymen, shopkeepers, neighbours - in fact everyone they could possibly need, seemed to view the sisters’ dream as a challenge they would like to support. Incredibly, they managed to visit the island and the elderly owners took an instant liking to the pair.
“they showed us the main dwelling, “Island House” with its farmhouse kitchen, stoneflagged and oak-beamed; the lounge with its huge windows facing south and west with magnificent views of the sea; the two cottages and the many outhouses. We climbed the hill some 150 feet high and down through the woods to the tractor shed. We were shown the cliff walks, the beaches, the bridge to the ”Little Island“, and the daffodil fields where fifteen different varieties grew. These start to bloom at Christmas time and were sent to Covent Garden by the hundredweight.
But of all the fascinating things we saw the one that riveted our attention was the generator building” This unpredictable monstrosity had been put in by a previous owner: Major General Rawlings a “D” day commander in the Second World War. He had retired to the island, and taken advantage of its mild climate to establish and run the still thriving market garden.
The Whitehouse couple needed to move back to the mainland for health reasons, and were willing not only to knock £2000 off the £22,000 the island had been valued for, but also to provide a private mortgage for half of it. All the sisters would need to do now would be to sell their home in Surrey, and move there lock stock and barrel. This proved to be no mean feat.
Only a madman would try to navigate the treacherous Cornish coast over Christmas and the New Year, they were told, so a “madman” they found - a young daredevil of a sailor, “Wren Toms” who enjoyed the challenges more seasoned boatsmen would blanch at. He kept an eye on the weather, and told them when it would be comparatively safe to cross in his small boat, the “Orlando”. Clearly some of the episodes where they visit the island were just plain crazy, and it is a miracle that anybody came out of them alive. The “jetty” consisted of a few wooden posts, safe enough when the sea was calm, but here is a typical episode:
“Today the westerly gale backwashed the seas round the island and together with the ground swell from the spring tide the sea raced past the jetty like an express train. Very skilfully Wren managed to manoeuvre and juggle the metal boat into one of these runs. As we swept past the jetty on the crest of a breaking roller at breakneck speed he yelled, “JUMP! Grab a post - it’s slippery!” With the abandon of despair I flung myself onto the jetty clinging with both arms round the nearest post as the metal boat shot past from under me. I managed to haul myself onto the jetty which was indeed as slippery as black ice from algae built up over the winter months with rain, and the seas sweeping over it with spring tides. I managed to slither my way on to the steps to await for Babs to be decanted. Wren however had decided that it was too dangerous to land anyone else at the jetty.”
This particular episode ends with the others rolling over the side of the little boat onto the beach itself. And due to the force of the weather, which could change in an instant, Wren allowed them a mere 20 minutes on the island before returning to the mainland. Just enough time to chit out their seed potatoes, and cast a cursory eye over the daffodils.
Eventually the sisters tried for themselves, viewed at a distance by the Cornish folk on the mainland, who must have been astonished at the lengths these two would go to.
“Babs and I … tried to lever the heavy boat ashore with the use of planks which were stacked up by the boathouse. We extended the cable of the winch to its limit and slowly, inch by inch, levered the boat up to within a rope’s length of the cable end. It was a difficult operation, for all the time the surf was dragging at the boat and pulling our feet from under us. At last we managed to attach the rope to the cable but twice the rope broke and twice the boat was sucked back into the breakers. Babs hung on for dear life to the stern, and I was the one with the rope I tried frantically to tie a knot to join the broken ends … Desperation is a good teacher … The resulting knot will not be found in any naval, boy scout or girl guide manual, but Glory Be! it held.”
There are descriptions of purchasing all the paraphernalia the sisters considered essential for island life, such as an industrial size concrete mixer, a huge printing machine, several hurricane lamps, and many unfamiliar tools. These were coupled with all the assorted possessions one or other could not bear to leave behind, for instance the potter’s wheel, kiln, tape recorders, photographic darkroom equipment - not to mention 40 gallons of fermenting wine. Storing all their acquisitions over several months became quite a challenge, especially when the friend who finally agreed to take them over to the island with their first belongings, insisted that the packing cases at the back of the warehouse be got out in first. Quite apart from the difficulty of negotiating these outside and on to the small craft, it meant that what Evelyn and Babs first took over to their island, where they hoped to stay until the weather was milder, were several crates containing all their books, and not the basic food, fuel, bedding, pots and pans etc., which they had planned.
Another extraordinary piece of luck came, when Babs was offered a job as a senior mistress as a school in Looe itself! Of course this meant that she had to stay on the mainland during the week and could only go to the island at weekends - and sometimes not even then depending on the weather. Her sister Evelyn lived entirely alone on the island at these times and at that time there was no method of communicating other than flags and hand-signals.
The good humour which which this is all described is infectious, and the book is an absorbing read. Evelyn Atkins writes very engagingly, with both intelligence and wit. At times, it reminds me a little of the affectionate portrayal of island folk in Lillian Beckwith’s books. And the descriptions of the island itself conjure up just why this island was so tempting:
“Although only 22 and a half acres, the island, with its indented coastline, appeared much larger. The west coast, wild and rugged and remote, looked like a Land’s End in miniature. Here, above the forbidding cliffs of rock and caves, the island rose to a height of 150 feet. On the north and east the wooded hillside sloped steeply down to cliffs above shelving beaches of rock, sand and shingle. The south coast, like the west, was buttressed with perpendicular rocky cliffs but sloped down to a promontory on the south-eastern tip where it was joined to the island by a stone bridge … The trees that bordered the cliffs of the eastern shore and climbed the slopes of the hill that crowned the island were a blaze of reds, oranges and gold as the leaves gleamed in the autumn sunlight.”
This book stayed in my mind for many years, and I eventually spotted a brief but interesting article, tucked away in a corner of the “Sunday Times” some time in 1997. At the age of 87 Evelyn had died, and although Babs was still living there, she announced at the age of 83, that on her death the island was to be given over to the “Cornwall Wildlife Trust”, for them to preserve it as a nature reserve.
Their original promise to the Whitehouses would be kept. Nobody would ever develop this island into a theme park or anything similar. It would be preserved as it was, and the wildlife would stay protected and intact. At the age of 86 Babs Atkins died too. She had lived for 40 years on the small island she and Evelyn loved so much. Continuing to live on the island at such an age, even after her sister Evelyn had died, without many of the luxuries and amenities that most of us take for granted, showed great courage and strength. Inexperienced in navigating, self-sufficiency, not to mention living in isolation, they rose to the challenge at the age when many people are thinking of taking it a little easier.
I often think of these two sisters, when I hear people’s misguided thoughts about the elderly. Even the kindest, most loving relatives use the language which seems to have evolved to describe old people. “Cantankerous” is one such word, often allied with “crotchety”, “stubborn” or “awkward”. “Doughty”, or “feisty” sound like compliments, but are actually very patronising. Apply them to yourself, and you will appreciate this. Even the term “independent” is often used as an insult, or at least as a criticism, when applied to the elderly.
Will I read this book again? Probably, after another while, perhaps when those words are misapplied to me.
So what has happened to “Looe Island”, as it is now called?
It is indeed protected, but open to day visitors in the Summer, when the weather permits. In calm summer weather it remains an idyllic paradise, not commercialised in any way. There are no roads, no shops and no traffic, but there is safe bathing, two beaches, a natural rock swimming pool, rocky coves, caves and woodland walks. But in winter it is still a treacherous place, lashed by wild storms in which the sea spray sometimes goes right over the island. It can remain inaccessible by boat, and cut off from the mainland for days, or even weeks.
I rate this book 5 stars. It ticks all the boxes for me. And very oddly, at the end of this reread, I found myself in Evelyn’s position right at the start of the book. Everything began to kick off for her (if you’ll pardon the pun) when she broke her leg, and was forced to recuperate for a while. I had just finished the book, and started to mull over my review. The next day I had planned to go to visit my own little paradise, just a couple of counties along the same coast.
And by an extraordinary quirky coincidence, I too broke my leg, necessitating a few weeks in hospital, and a continuing recovery period. It has taken me a while to be able to get back to reading, and of course this is the first book I have reviewed since.
Some might say this is synchronicity. All I know is that this book continues to speak to me. Try it, if the idea appeals to you, and perhaps you too may find more than an entertaining read here.
It feels like a dream experience, doesn’t it? And that quality stays with the reader for many years after reading this true account. At least it did for me.
The events described take place in 1962, We Bought an Island being published 2 years later, and I first read the book avidly just over a decade later. It passed the time nicely as I was strap-hanging on the tube train; in fact several times I would come dangerously close to missing my stop! Strange that as a young professional I could totally empathise with the two elderly ladies (for they were of the generation and class who would far prefer this designation to the term “women”) in this book. Strange too, that now, reading this many years down the track, I have the same responses.
“Less than a mile away it looked tantalisingly close yet with the sea between, elusively remote. Rising gracefully to the sky it looked like the tip of a submerged mountain. It seemed another world. Did anyone live there? We could see a cottage nestling in the woods below the slope of the summit and a house and a low building on the distant headland where the eastern tip ran down to the sea. How to set foot on the island? For that we must surely do.”
If you have ever dreamed of leaving the rat-race, you will recognise a fellow spirit in Evelyn and Babs Atkins. Living in a large desirable house in Epsom, part of suburban Surrey, their lives were comfortable and orderly. They had good jobs, many friends, pursued fulfilling outside interests and had full social lives. Yet they had a dream … and the dream would not be quashed.
We Bought an Island has been criticised as not sticking to chapter and verse of how to actually go about it, should this also be your dream. All I say to those who object on these grounds, is talk to an estate agent if you want to read a “how to” book! This book is the quirky autobiography of two rather eccentric English ladies, telling the part of their lives when they confounded the stereotype, not to mention: “the Wailing Winnies chorus of our friends.” It was not easy. “We, too, sometimes had our moments of doubt and despair. It is difficult to ride the crest of a wave all the time.” Nevertheless they persevered, and did something wildly improbable; something which should never have worked, but by which they achieved their wildest dream, which others had said was merely a pipedream.
The book starts when Evelyn broke her leg, necessitating a lengthy recovery period, and an early retirement from her demanding job as head of personnel at I.C.I. We read a lively account of how she “fell into” a job for the Coal Board (whilst not understanding the least thing about coal) mostly because she had to register as unemployed, and therefore eventually had to accept a job. Her bemusement at the ins and outs of the Benefits system paves the way very well for the later picture we gain of the two sisters as innocents abroad.
We learn about her sister Babs too, a talented deputy headmistress of a Surrey school, who was a few years younger than Evelyn. And we learn the family history, which is absorbing in itself. Their father, William, had run away to sea at 13. He returned home, but still yearned for the sea. Their mother had a string of suitable beaux; however, there was something about the rather wild William. The couple eloped, and she proceeded to take lodgings in every port where William was expected to dock.
“Mother told us that when she married she could not even boil an egg, for in those solid Victorian days there were always servants for domestic chores even in middle class households. Nevertheless she was a fine needlewoman and made all our clothes, even the boys suits, when they were young.”
I did wonder how this family became so prosperous, once they had turned their backs on their comparatively wealthy heritage. But detailing this family history revealed that the grit and tenacity the sisters exhibit in the book, might well have come from the examples they and their brothers had been witness to throughout their lives. Their daredevil brothers, sadly had both died at the age of 39.
Please do not expect to necessarily identify with the Atkins sisters’ background experience. Not only were they from an upper-middle class English family, but also one from very much an earlier time, with rigid social codes. They accepted that it was normal to have a woman who came to clean, and whose husband took care of their huge garden. Another example is that they were seriously challenged by what to do with their collection of ball gowns, once they had bought their island. They hosted ambitious themed fancy dress parties, staged amateur dramatics, and along with their wide circle of friends, attended cocktail parties on a regular basis. Their calendar was also crammed with interesting but expensive hobbies and pastimes. Along with the hectic diary of social events, they led comfortable, some might say privileged, lives:
“A good detached house in Surrey, near the Epsom Downs racecourse, with lovely landscaped gardens. Standard roses [led] to an archway of ramblers; this led through from the lawn and flower borders to fruit trees, more lawn, vegetable patch and so on to a copse where it was a delight to swing in a hammock, with the sun dappling one’s face, listening to bird song and the murmur of insects and the breeze rippling through the leaves … We had a “treasure” Mrs Penman, who came three hours every day, and and a gardener of the old school who tended the garden one day every week”
No wonder our friends thought we were mad to give all this up to live alone on an island off the wild coast of Cornwall.”
The events read like an extraordinary set of coincidences. Evelyn had decided she wanted to work with ceramics and create a pottery, despite the fact that she had never thrown a pot in her life. One holiday, the two sisters set off for Cornwall, and bought a side-by-side pair of cottages in the coastal town of Looe. One was quite dilapidated, and they hoped to install a kiln in there, and convert it into a thriving concern, whilst living in the neighbouring one. Babs would no doubt find teaching employment locally, they thought. But walking their dog on the cliffs nearby, Evelyn could see a tiny island glimmering tantalisingly in the sunshine. She scrambled back to the cottage to tell her sister. How could they resist finding out about this paradise? They simply had to step foot on it for themselves.
The island was no mirage. It lay about one mile off the coast near Looe. A natural sanctuary for sea and woodland birds, and partly wooded, it was of outstanding natural beauty in anyone’s eyes. It measured 22.5 acres in area and one mile in circumference. The sisters learned as much as they could from the local people. “St. George Island” had magnificent sea and coastal views, stretching from Prawle Point in Devon to the Lizard Peninsula. Frost and snow were virtually unknown there, as it had an exceptionally mild climate. Many flowers were even in bloom as early as Christmas. They learned some of the history of the island: that at one time it was a smugglers’ haunt, and there were the remains of a Benedictine chapel built in 1139. Legend had it that Joseph of Arimethea landed there with the Christ child.
Not surprisingly “St. George Island” was owned already, by a couple who fiercely guarded their privacy. Why else would they consider living in such an inaccessible place? There was no way of communicating with the island except by going there. And there was no proper landing stage on the shingle beach. But there was talk that the elderly couple were becoming frail, and considering putting the island up for sale.
Events conspired to Evelyn and Babs’s advantage, and the local people seemed to fall over themselves to help. These two sisters seemed possess an irresistible charm! Or perhaps it is simply the way of the English. We like eccentricity; admire the tenacity of fighting against the odds for something you value, and usually support the underdog in any situation.
Solicitors, estate agents, removals men, handymen, shopkeepers, neighbours - in fact everyone they could possibly need, seemed to view the sisters’ dream as a challenge they would like to support. Incredibly, they managed to visit the island and the elderly owners took an instant liking to the pair.
“they showed us the main dwelling, “Island House” with its farmhouse kitchen, stoneflagged and oak-beamed; the lounge with its huge windows facing south and west with magnificent views of the sea; the two cottages and the many outhouses. We climbed the hill some 150 feet high and down through the woods to the tractor shed. We were shown the cliff walks, the beaches, the bridge to the ”Little Island“, and the daffodil fields where fifteen different varieties grew. These start to bloom at Christmas time and were sent to Covent Garden by the hundredweight.
But of all the fascinating things we saw the one that riveted our attention was the generator building” This unpredictable monstrosity had been put in by a previous owner: Major General Rawlings a “D” day commander in the Second World War. He had retired to the island, and taken advantage of its mild climate to establish and run the still thriving market garden.
The Whitehouse couple needed to move back to the mainland for health reasons, and were willing not only to knock £2000 off the £22,000 the island had been valued for, but also to provide a private mortgage for half of it. All the sisters would need to do now would be to sell their home in Surrey, and move there lock stock and barrel. This proved to be no mean feat.
Only a madman would try to navigate the treacherous Cornish coast over Christmas and the New Year, they were told, so a “madman” they found - a young daredevil of a sailor, “Wren Toms” who enjoyed the challenges more seasoned boatsmen would blanch at. He kept an eye on the weather, and told them when it would be comparatively safe to cross in his small boat, the “Orlando”. Clearly some of the episodes where they visit the island were just plain crazy, and it is a miracle that anybody came out of them alive. The “jetty” consisted of a few wooden posts, safe enough when the sea was calm, but here is a typical episode:
“Today the westerly gale backwashed the seas round the island and together with the ground swell from the spring tide the sea raced past the jetty like an express train. Very skilfully Wren managed to manoeuvre and juggle the metal boat into one of these runs. As we swept past the jetty on the crest of a breaking roller at breakneck speed he yelled, “JUMP! Grab a post - it’s slippery!” With the abandon of despair I flung myself onto the jetty clinging with both arms round the nearest post as the metal boat shot past from under me. I managed to haul myself onto the jetty which was indeed as slippery as black ice from algae built up over the winter months with rain, and the seas sweeping over it with spring tides. I managed to slither my way on to the steps to await for Babs to be decanted. Wren however had decided that it was too dangerous to land anyone else at the jetty.”
This particular episode ends with the others rolling over the side of the little boat onto the beach itself. And due to the force of the weather, which could change in an instant, Wren allowed them a mere 20 minutes on the island before returning to the mainland. Just enough time to chit out their seed potatoes, and cast a cursory eye over the daffodils.
Eventually the sisters tried for themselves, viewed at a distance by the Cornish folk on the mainland, who must have been astonished at the lengths these two would go to.
“Babs and I … tried to lever the heavy boat ashore with the use of planks which were stacked up by the boathouse. We extended the cable of the winch to its limit and slowly, inch by inch, levered the boat up to within a rope’s length of the cable end. It was a difficult operation, for all the time the surf was dragging at the boat and pulling our feet from under us. At last we managed to attach the rope to the cable but twice the rope broke and twice the boat was sucked back into the breakers. Babs hung on for dear life to the stern, and I was the one with the rope I tried frantically to tie a knot to join the broken ends … Desperation is a good teacher … The resulting knot will not be found in any naval, boy scout or girl guide manual, but Glory Be! it held.”
There are descriptions of purchasing all the paraphernalia the sisters considered essential for island life, such as an industrial size concrete mixer, a huge printing machine, several hurricane lamps, and many unfamiliar tools. These were coupled with all the assorted possessions one or other could not bear to leave behind, for instance the potter’s wheel, kiln, tape recorders, photographic darkroom equipment - not to mention 40 gallons of fermenting wine. Storing all their acquisitions over several months became quite a challenge, especially when the friend who finally agreed to take them over to the island with their first belongings, insisted that the packing cases at the back of the warehouse be got out in first. Quite apart from the difficulty of negotiating these outside and on to the small craft, it meant that what Evelyn and Babs first took over to their island, where they hoped to stay until the weather was milder, were several crates containing all their books, and not the basic food, fuel, bedding, pots and pans etc., which they had planned.
Another extraordinary piece of luck came, when Babs was offered a job as a senior mistress as a school in Looe itself! Of course this meant that she had to stay on the mainland during the week and could only go to the island at weekends - and sometimes not even then depending on the weather. Her sister Evelyn lived entirely alone on the island at these times and at that time there was no method of communicating other than flags and hand-signals.
The good humour which which this is all described is infectious, and the book is an absorbing read. Evelyn Atkins writes very engagingly, with both intelligence and wit. At times, it reminds me a little of the affectionate portrayal of island folk in Lillian Beckwith’s books. And the descriptions of the island itself conjure up just why this island was so tempting:
“Although only 22 and a half acres, the island, with its indented coastline, appeared much larger. The west coast, wild and rugged and remote, looked like a Land’s End in miniature. Here, above the forbidding cliffs of rock and caves, the island rose to a height of 150 feet. On the north and east the wooded hillside sloped steeply down to cliffs above shelving beaches of rock, sand and shingle. The south coast, like the west, was buttressed with perpendicular rocky cliffs but sloped down to a promontory on the south-eastern tip where it was joined to the island by a stone bridge … The trees that bordered the cliffs of the eastern shore and climbed the slopes of the hill that crowned the island were a blaze of reds, oranges and gold as the leaves gleamed in the autumn sunlight.”
This book stayed in my mind for many years, and I eventually spotted a brief but interesting article, tucked away in a corner of the “Sunday Times” some time in 1997. At the age of 87 Evelyn had died, and although Babs was still living there, she announced at the age of 83, that on her death the island was to be given over to the “Cornwall Wildlife Trust”, for them to preserve it as a nature reserve.
Their original promise to the Whitehouses would be kept. Nobody would ever develop this island into a theme park or anything similar. It would be preserved as it was, and the wildlife would stay protected and intact. At the age of 86 Babs Atkins died too. She had lived for 40 years on the small island she and Evelyn loved so much. Continuing to live on the island at such an age, even after her sister Evelyn had died, without many of the luxuries and amenities that most of us take for granted, showed great courage and strength. Inexperienced in navigating, self-sufficiency, not to mention living in isolation, they rose to the challenge at the age when many people are thinking of taking it a little easier.
I often think of these two sisters, when I hear people’s misguided thoughts about the elderly. Even the kindest, most loving relatives use the language which seems to have evolved to describe old people. “Cantankerous” is one such word, often allied with “crotchety”, “stubborn” or “awkward”. “Doughty”, or “feisty” sound like compliments, but are actually very patronising. Apply them to yourself, and you will appreciate this. Even the term “independent” is often used as an insult, or at least as a criticism, when applied to the elderly.
Will I read this book again? Probably, after another while, perhaps when those words are misapplied to me.
So what has happened to “Looe Island”, as it is now called?
It is indeed protected, but open to day visitors in the Summer, when the weather permits. In calm summer weather it remains an idyllic paradise, not commercialised in any way. There are no roads, no shops and no traffic, but there is safe bathing, two beaches, a natural rock swimming pool, rocky coves, caves and woodland walks. But in winter it is still a treacherous place, lashed by wild storms in which the sea spray sometimes goes right over the island. It can remain inaccessible by boat, and cut off from the mainland for days, or even weeks.
I rate this book 5 stars. It ticks all the boxes for me. And very oddly, at the end of this reread, I found myself in Evelyn’s position right at the start of the book. Everything began to kick off for her (if you’ll pardon the pun) when she broke her leg, and was forced to recuperate for a while. I had just finished the book, and started to mull over my review. The next day I had planned to go to visit my own little paradise, just a couple of counties along the same coast.
And by an extraordinary quirky coincidence, I too broke my leg, necessitating a few weeks in hospital, and a continuing recovery period. It has taken me a while to be able to get back to reading, and of course this is the first book I have reviewed since.
Some might say this is synchronicity. All I know is that this book continues to speak to me. Try it, if the idea appeals to you, and perhaps you too may find more than an entertaining read here.
May 16, 2019
Amazing-just amazing! The Atkins sister's story of how they came to buy an island is really quite fascinating. They both were so diversified in their interests and hobbies and would make a great dinner party guest. The slow migration of their household and persons to the island from the mainland was fraught with gales and tides-so treacherous. I will be reading the second book sometime this year and look forward to more of their adventures!
April 22, 2019
This is a delightful book recommended by GR friend, Bionic Jean. Written in 1976 it tells the true story of two spinster sisters who buy an island off the coast of Cornwall. I think it was the 1950's or 1960's but I am not sure. These two ladies are an inspiration to us all.
I have never met two women involved in more things. One breaks her leg and takes early retirement and takes up a myriad of activities including pottery, wine making, photography and socializing. The other sister is a head mistress at a school who puts on plays, throws charity events, and collects and polishes rocks.
The two women gamble everything and buy 2 run down cottages and fix them up. The school teacher finds a new job in town. An island comes up for sale. They buy it on a wing and a prayer. They don't have the money but move on faith and it works. It's amazing how many people step up for them and help them.
It's a joyous book about two older women who survive without a man and depending on themselves and their abilities. It's just refreshing.
I have never met two women involved in more things. One breaks her leg and takes early retirement and takes up a myriad of activities including pottery, wine making, photography and socializing. The other sister is a head mistress at a school who puts on plays, throws charity events, and collects and polishes rocks.
The two women gamble everything and buy 2 run down cottages and fix them up. The school teacher finds a new job in town. An island comes up for sale. They buy it on a wing and a prayer. They don't have the money but move on faith and it works. It's amazing how many people step up for them and help them.
It's a joyous book about two older women who survive without a man and depending on themselves and their abilities. It's just refreshing.
October 9, 2018
Wow. These two sisters really did buy an island. What an adventure! Did they have money for it, no. Did they know what they were doing, no. Did they keep going, YES! This was a great story.
And I loved that they loved books, had a zillion, and were buying more. And that they had a dog that instantly loved the island.
And I loved that they loved books, had a zillion, and were buying more. And that they had a dog that instantly loved the island.
October 19, 2020
I think it would help to be familiar with Cornwall (and Devon) to fully appreciate the book. The pre-decimal prices I didn't even try to understand.
I know it's probably been covered elsewhere, but just wanted to let anyone reading these comments know that this book covers their early lives up to the first night they spend on the island as the new owners. The most fascinating aspect of the story to me where the countless times that everything aligned perfectly for them. Seriously, the story serves as a new thought manifestation testimony on steroids in that regard! The author regularly reports how astounded she has been by the "coincidences" popping up every so often.
I was thrown by the term "radiogram" which signaled how dated the book could seem in places with her gushing over the item as though it were the latest iPhone model. Dictionary gives the American equivalent as "console" although I think of that as more a television set style. In this case, what was meant I decided I would probably call a "hi-fi"?
Verdict: it was interesting, but not certain I'd go out of my way to obtain a copy again.
I know it's probably been covered elsewhere, but just wanted to let anyone reading these comments know that this book covers their early lives up to the first night they spend on the island as the new owners. The most fascinating aspect of the story to me where the countless times that everything aligned perfectly for them. Seriously, the story serves as a new thought manifestation testimony on steroids in that regard! The author regularly reports how astounded she has been by the "coincidences" popping up every so often.
I was thrown by the term "radiogram" which signaled how dated the book could seem in places with her gushing over the item as though it were the latest iPhone model. Dictionary gives the American equivalent as "console" although I think of that as more a television set style. In this case, what was meant I decided I would probably call a "hi-fi"?
Verdict: it was interesting, but not certain I'd go out of my way to obtain a copy again.
March 6, 2020
An intriguing read about two people who followed a childhood dream - by a circuitous route - and took a leap into the unknown. There are plenty of well-drawn characters and an insight into a time and a pace of life that have long past.
May 5, 2019
A fascinating book probably made even more interesting for me because I love islands.Recommended.
October 3, 2021
A sweet memoir about 2 nearly-retired sisters who buy and island off the coast of Cornwall in the mid-1960s. They are both such kind and sweet sounding ladies and, the idea of buying an island for oneself is quite appealing to me. They dreamed big and were able to see it fulfilled. The story was very nice but got bogged down quite a bit by rabbit trails. I think this would have made a much better book if the author had pared down some of the extraneous stories about their past that weren't really necessary to understand who they were. Otherwise, it was a very sweet story. Both sisters have since passed away but you can find old interviews with them on Youtube.
September 23, 2022
This was such an interesting autobiography about two sisters who bought an island off the coast of Cornwall. It ends with them finally getting to live there (there was a lot of prep work to get them to their dream). I look forward to book number 2.
May 14, 2014
This is a great book about the pros and cons of buying an island. Amusing and well documented.
February 22, 2023
Too stressful for me! Although I adore the concept of buying an island, I did not want to hear every detail of moving furniture, producing money with smoke and mirrors, and dangerous boat trips. This book wasn't about living on the island at all, just about procuring it and moving there. Not a bad book, just not for me right now.
October 14, 2025
This was the book that inspired The Island House which I read earlier in the year, and it is about a million times better. It tells the true story of two middle aged sisters who lived in Surrey and bought a small island off the Cornish coast near Looe.
Atkins's (cool surname!) writing style is very conversational and she has a knack for spinning a yarn and everything sounds like so much fun.
This book ends with the sister's first night on the island.
The sequel, Tales from our Cornish Island, will be on my Christmas list.
Atkins's (cool surname!) writing style is very conversational and she has a knack for spinning a yarn and everything sounds like so much fun.
This book ends with the sister's first night on the island.
The sequel, Tales from our Cornish Island, will be on my Christmas list.
January 12, 2018
What an amazing pair of women! I am hesitant to describe books as 'inspiring', but this story genuinely is. These two sisters had such a fantastic outlook on life, such an adventurous spirit, and Evelyn writes in such an entertaining, humorous and good-natured way it is not only a thoroughly enjoyable read it's also not surprising that so many people quickly became their friends, offered no end of help and wanted to come and stay with them on their island. I would too, in a heartbeat!
August 4, 2019
3.5 stars. I enjoyed reading this one, but I would have appreciated more about their lives after they actually moved to the island. I guess I need to read the sequel. The writing was intriguing, though the author got bogged down a bit on random rabbit roads.
May 12, 2020
Brilliant! Fascinating true story. I want to read the sequel now too!
January 10, 2021
We Bought an Island is the story of two sisters who bought St. George’s Island, a 22-acre island that is a mile off the coast of Looe, Cornwall. This was in 1964 and Evelyn had recently taken early retirement from her job due to a broken leg that never healed well. Her sister, Babs, was a school head mistress, and she quit her job and hoped to find another teaching position in Cornwall.
These are two of the most interesting women I’ve ever read about! They had so many hobbies and interests – wine-making, beekeeping, ornithology, travel, archeology, cooking – just to name a few. Every where they travel, they make more friends and their home is always filled with visitors. It is no wonder that they never had time to marry.
My only disappointment in the book is that I wanted to know what life on the island was like. This book just deals with the difficulties they had in being able to purchase the island and moving their possessions there. It ends when they spend their first night on the island. Fortunately, there is a sequel, Tales From Our Cornish Island, that details their lives there.
These are two of the most interesting women I’ve ever read about! They had so many hobbies and interests – wine-making, beekeeping, ornithology, travel, archeology, cooking – just to name a few. Every where they travel, they make more friends and their home is always filled with visitors. It is no wonder that they never had time to marry.
My only disappointment in the book is that I wanted to know what life on the island was like. This book just deals with the difficulties they had in being able to purchase the island and moving their possessions there. It ends when they spend their first night on the island. Fortunately, there is a sequel, Tales From Our Cornish Island, that details their lives there.
April 24, 2022
What an inspiration these two women are. Indomitable, formidable and incredibly likeable, this tale tells of an island purchase and how the sisters eventually get to settle on it. We are only four miles from it and I can’t wait to get a boat trip out to it. Now managed by the Cornwall Wildlife Trust it’s a marine nature reserve. Well worth a read.
April 8, 2023
Superb account of two middle aged ladies who literally bought an island. Only a mile or so off the Cornish coast, it was in winter often cut off from the mainland for weeks. I particularly liked her introduction to anyone she caught trespassing on her foreshore. "Have we met?" she would ask. Classic!
December 30, 2017
Fabulous couple of sisters who took on the near impossible and succeeded. Well worth a read. Now I want to visit the island.
February 27, 2021
Wonderful and fascinating read!
May 18, 2021
More from these indomitable ladies just loved it spent two days in my campervan reading both books can't wait to get to Cornwall again
March 6, 2023
It is not that riveting and was rather boring in parts. Was disappointed.
April 3, 2023
Wonderful book, I’d give it 20 stars if I could! I hope the second volume arrived in my mailbox tomorrow.
September 13, 2023
Joyful. Inspiring. Funny. What's not to love?
July 2, 2025
The curious story of middle aged sisters who , absolutely clueless about the work entailed, bought and moved to an island off the coast of Cornwell England in 1964.
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