Sleeping by the Sea

Until we came to Norfolk Island I’d always thought of graveyards as very desolate, grim places.  Many in Australia seemed neglected:  straggly weeds, rusty railings, sagging tombstones with unkempt plots, and a forgotten feeling inside their crumbling, tumbledown walls.  Visiting Kingston’s burial ground, I was immediately struck by very different impressions.

Strangely, the peacefulness was the first thing I noticed.  Nestling serenely beside the sea, with the unending murmur of the waves on Cemetery beach, it was a calm place.  Startlingly green hills rose up sharply on the left; cattle grazing contentedly on their steep slopes.  To the right, tall pines sheltered the sexton’s hut, and beyond lay magnificent coastal views of pounding surf, rocky outcrops and distant pines, straight as soldiers, clinging to the cliffs.  

People walked their dogs on the beach or played a round on the adjacent Golf Course.  Alyssum and daisies grew wild, dotted amongst the sandy dunes, near the wooden fence on the seaward side.  The grass within the cemetery was green and neatly kept and, though it was mournful - as resting places for the dead must be - it was beautiful.

Then I noticed the care; the care taken by family and friends to maintain and honour the graves.  The plots were weeded and tidy and there were tributes - small trinkets and flowers - from those left behind.  This was a living link between the departed and their loved ones, and the importance of this site to Islanders, and long-time residents, became clear.  Every Bounty Day families lay wreaths here, as a mark of respect to their Pitcairn forebears, and locals can often be seen visiting and tending graves. 

 Moving from more recent headstones, to the monuments and markers of the First and Second European settlements, it was obvious the scenic little cemetery is also revered for its historic value.  From the 1970s a concerted effort has been made to research, conserve and restore the ageing, convict era grave sites.  There are now books, and tours, which shed light on the tombstones of the prisoners, guards and pioneers who lived, and died, long ago on this remote island.

The early colonial section offers a fascinating insight into harsh penal times, and reminds us that people have grappled with grief throughout history.  Over two hundred years have passed since the death of Thomas Headington, but his tombstone bears this hopeful inscription: