I was dimly aware of Scilly as the place admiral Cloudesley Shovell piled up 4 ships in 1707, sparking the search for a reliable way to establish longitude, and as wily PM Harold Wilson’s preferred holiday retreat. Taylor’s book brings it to life as an enchanted place: a group of 5 islands of 2,200 souls, a little piece of England west of Dublin. It sounds idyllic to visit, but scary to navigate: Taylor tells that, on a hazard scale of 1-10, Scilly was rated 11.
Taylor’s style is gently engaging, taking us on a wide-ranging tour of Scilly, revelling in the absurdities of the policeman’s lot when there are 3 officers, 1 special and 1 PCSO to cover 5 islands and the nearest backup is a helicopter ride away, but never compromising on the essence of the job. The dearth of law-breaking is more than offset by the sheer variety of topics: disposal of munitions, boating & fishing, wildlife conservation, working with the school, broadcasting and sitting with the elderly particularly stick in the mind.
A lovely read.