If you could see forever over Earth's curves as you gaze south from this most remote of islands, the next land to meet your eye across the blue swell of the vast South Atlantic would be Antarctica. But as you can't, let's continue our lazy day by turning back from the waterfront, crossing the bridge over the dry moat, and passing through the town gate again.
After two and a half days at sea with nothing but the vast expanse of the sometimes grey, sometimes blue Atlantic tossing out in all directions, a rugged mountainous mass with sharp pointed pinnacles, deep folds and narrow ravines looms out of the dawn haze and clouds, a brilliant yellow sun gilding all.
Once they proudly sailed the seven seas, mighty traveling hotels, carrying both passengers and cargo to the furthest outposts of the British Empire, earning their prestigious title of RMS (Royal Mail Ship) by dint of carrying His or Her Britannic Majesty's mail to his or her farthest-flung subjects.
Portuguese sailors who risked washing up on its deadly shore called this desolate region that runs north from of the coastal resort town of Swakopmund to the Angolan border the "The Gates of Hell." The Bushmen called it "The Land God Made in Anger." The Skeleton Coast is all those things, but undeniably beautiful too.
Britain is preparing territorial claims on tens of thousands of square miles of the Atlantic Ocean floor around the Falklands, Ascension Island and Ro...