How paradise island became outcrop of hell

It should be the Garden of Eden.

In 1789, Fletcher Christian cast the heartless Captain Bligh over the side of HMS Bounty and, with a handful of grass-skirted Tahitians, reached the mischarted island of Pitcairn to found their own private paradise. Today, the mutineer's descendants pass their days hoeing peppers and sweet potatoes, fishing for shark, and shooting down breadfruit from trees with their muskets.

This 1,6km by 2,4km crag of dark volcanic rock, marooned in the middle of the South Pacific, is home to just 40 people. There are no roads, no cars, no banks, no currency, no office hours, and little contact with the outside world. There is no airstrip. Even post is only delivered every few months by passing cargo ships. The nearest landmass - where you will also find the nearest hospital, supermarket, secondary school and phone booth - is 5 000km away in New Zealand.

http://www.iol.co.za/index.php?click_id=3&art_id=iol1061713636709B532&set_id=1

http://darkerxdarker.tripod.com/

I've been fascinated by Pitcairn and the Bounty since my teens, after having read the book. I've even had dreams of visiting, but perhaps not... What a sad article!