Drake's Island

Stand at the railings on Plymouth Hoe and feel the wind come straight off the water. It smells of salt, seaweed and diesel from the passing boats. Gulls call overhead. Out in the Sound, a little way from shore, sits a low green island with grey stone walls around its edges. That is Drake's Island. It is close enough that you can make out its shape, yet far enough that you cannot simply walk there. For most visitors, that distance is part of its appeal.

Before it carried Drake's name, the island had a quieter identity. It was known as Saint Nicholas's Island, after a chapel dedicated to Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of sailors. For a community that made its living on the sea, that dedication made sense. Fishermen and merchants leaving the harbour would pass the island on their way out and again on their way home. A small chapel on a rock at the mouth of the harbour was a kind of blessing for every voyage.

The new name came from Sir Francis Drake, the Elizabethan seafarer most closely tied to this city. In 1577, Drake sailed from Plymouth on the voyage that would take him around the world. He returned in 1580 with his ship loaded with treasure taken from Spanish ports and ships. Over the following centuries, Plymouth claimed him as its own. The island in front of the Hoe slowly took his name, and today very few people call it anything else.

Here is something many visitors do not realise. Although the island looks peaceful, it spent most of its recorded life as a military post. From the Tudor period onward, it was fortified to guard the entrance to Plymouth's harbour. Any enemy ship that wanted to reach the anchorage, the docks or the town had to pass within range of its guns. In many ways, this small rock was the front door of Plymouth, and it was locked and guarded.

Look back over your shoulder at the Hoe itself. According to a famous tale, Drake was playing bowls on this grassy ridge in 1588 when news came that the Spanish Armada had been seen. Legend says he insisted on finishing his game before he went to fight. Historians treat the story with caution, because there is no firm proof. But it shows how closely the people of Plymouth link the Hoe, the Sound and Drake's name together.

In the seventeenth century, England was split by civil war, fought between the King and Parliament. Plymouth supported Parliament and resisted a long siege by royalist forces. The island's guns formed part of the town's defences during those difficult years. After the monarchy returned in 1660, the island took on a darker role. It became a prison for people the new government saw as dangerous, and its isolation made escape very hard.

The best known prisoner was John Lambert, one of the leading generals on Parliament's side during the civil war. After the Restoration, he was held as a state prisoner for many years. He spent a long part of that captivity on this island, and records state that he died here. Imagine looking across at the town from behind those walls, year after year. The busy harbour and the green hills were close, but completely out of reach.

The stone walls you can see today mostly belong to a later period. In the Victorian era, around the 1860s, Britain feared an invasion from France. A wave of new forts appeared along the south coast, and Plymouth received some of the heaviest protection. On the island, engineers built gun batteries set into thick walls of stone and earth, with iron shields at the openings. From the Hoe, look for the regular openings along the island's lower walls.

The island stayed in military use well into the twentieth century. During the Second World War, Plymouth suffered severe bombing, and much of the old city centre was destroyed. Guns on and around the island formed part of the defences of the Sound. When you visit the city centre later, notice how many buildings look modern. That is a direct result of the rebuilding after the war, while the island itself kept its older stones.

After the army left, the island found a gentler purpose. For a period in the later twentieth century, it served as an adventure and outdoor activity centre. Young people came here to sail, canoe, climb and explore the old tunnels and gun rooms. For many local families, that is their personal memory of the place. Ask an older Plymouth resident about the island, and you may hear stories of school trips across the water.

Now look at the water between the island and the far shore to your right, towards Mount Edgcumbe. Under the surface lies a rocky reef known locally as the Bridge. It is not a real bridge, but a dangerous shallow area that boats must avoid. Further out, past the island, a long stone breakwater crosses the Sound. It was begun in the early nineteenth century to shelter ships anchored here from the force of Atlantic storms.

Today the island is privately owned, and over the years there have been various plans to develop it. Access is limited, so most people experience it as you are now — from across the water. Sometimes, local boat operators run trips that pass close by or land visitors on special occasions. From the deck of a boat, you can see the rough rock, the old walls and the seabirds that now outnumber any soldiers who once lived here.

Take a final look before you move on. Notice how the light changes on the island's walls as clouds pass over the Sound. On a clear day, the stone looks pale and warm. In grey weather, it almost disappears into the sea. Ferries, yachts and naval ships still pass it, just as merchant ships did centuries ago. As you walk along the Hoe, keep the island in view, and watch the harbour's front door from a new angle.