Isle of Wight
Standing with my back to the English Channel at St Catherine’s Point, gazing up at the tumble-down landscape before me, I can almost sense the silent force of gravity drawing this irregular terrain ever closer to the sea. Although it has been some seven years since the last major landslip occurred here, forcing the closure of a 250-metre section of the A3055 between Ventnor and Niton, you can’t escape the feeling that what you see now could come crashing down at any moment.
This feeling is heightened by the appearance of the surrounding scenery, which – alternating between peaks, gullies and, in some places, entire blocks of soil and rock – alludes to the force of past geological shifts along the southern coast of the Isle of Wight.
Just 37 kilometres long and 21 kilometres wide, this familiar diamond-shaped wedge of land is packed with an astonishing variety of landscapes. From rolling, broad-backed open downs, tranquil estuaries that teem with bird life and glorious ancient woodland to sandy bays, wooded chines and the unstable undercliff along the southern coast, the island’s natural assets have long been a source of enjoyment and wonder, enticing the earliest tourists back in the late 18th and early 19th centuries.
Well-heeled Victorian Britons who, having completed their grand tours of Europe, went in search of ‘the picturesque’ on their doorsteps, making a beeline for the unusual undercliff areas in the island’s south, in particular.
This early tourism economy gathered momentum soon after Queen Victoria and Prince Albert set up a summer residence in Osbourne House near East Cowes. ‘At one stage, it was known as “England’s Madeira” because of the different microclimate to be found here, particularly along the south coast,’ says John Brownscombe, lead AONB officer of the Isle of Wight Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB).
The number of people crossing the Solent to explore the island has now passed 2.5 million a year, in the process making a considerable contribution to the local economy. Perhaps unsurprisingly, tourism is the island’s main economic driver, employing around a quarter of the population of 140,000.
Land of the dinosaur
Designated in 1963, the Isle of Wight AONB covers about half of the island and is divided into five separate areas that each reflect the island’s diverse landscapes and encompass some of the best-known sites.
‘It has a highly complex geology in a very small area, and that has obviously led to a very varied landform,’ explains Brownscombe. ‘It’s likened to lowland Britain in miniature: you have a little bit of
the South Downs, a bit of Norfolk, some of the High Weald clay, and there’s quite a distinct area along the south coast known as the undercliff, as well as iconic features such as the Needles.’
A large proportion of visitors aren’t drawn to the scenery, however, but what lies beneath. With its layer cake of geological strata, the island draws fossil hunters from around the world, hoping to make a discovery to rival that of six-year-old Owain Lewis, who last year found the 120-million-year-old bones of a pterosaur (a type of flying reptile) while on holiday with his family at Compton Bay in the west.
Evidence of dinosaurs is regularly unearthed from the island, and leading palaeontologists and fossil hunters consider it to be one of the best fossil sites in Europe, if not the world, with skeletons of at least 15 species having been unearthed. Flakes of carbonised wood from ancient forests, black fragments of dinosaur bone and the well-preserved footprints of iguanodon can, I’m told, be relatively easily seen here, particularly along the two heritage coastlines within the AONB.
The Hamstead Heritage Coast runs 11 kilometres from Bouldnor through to Thorness Bay in the northwest. It’s dominated by the shallow, drowned estuary of the Newtown River, whose expanses of salt marsh and mudflats are important for birds.
The Tennyson Heritage Coast runs for 34 kilometres, from Steephill Cove in Ventnor to Totland, incorporating the Needles, cliffs and chines – steep-sided, narrow clefts running back into the cliffs that were once ancient river valleys and are unique to the Isle of Wight, Dorset and Hampshire. Along with the undercliff, between Luccombe Bay in the east and Blackgang Chine in the west, the chines provide the only habitat on the British Isles for the Glanville fritillary butterfly.
Red alert
The Glanville fritillary is just one of the island’s notable inhabitants. The Isle of Wight Biodiversity Action Plan identified 54 priority species on the island, a further 180 that are nationally important and 455 that are locally distinct, such as the red squirrel. The island is one of the last remaining bastions of the native red, which has been nationally pushed to the brink through a combination of competition with the eastern grey squirrel and habitat loss.
According to the Forestry Commission, there are about 140,000 red squirrels left in Britain, 3,500 of which are found on the Isle of Wight. ‘We reckon that every hectare on the island supports a squirrel,’ says Richard Grogan of the Hampshire and Isle of Wight Wildlife Trust. However, the highest densities can be found in the historic ancient woodland within the AONB, alongside another much-loved British mammal. ‘Our woodlands are characterised by being the last place in Britain where the dormouse and red squirrel live in native woodland. Red squirrels are found in 90 per cent of our woodland and 70 per cent of the woodlands have dormice.’
The band of chalk that runs through the island from the Needles to Culver Down is another of the island’s important habitats. Traditionally, it has been grazed by sheep – in much the same way as on the South Downs – helping to promote wildflower and invertebrate diversity, which, in turn, attracts birds. Despite the fact that chalk grassland on the island has declined by two thirds since 1850, a mosaic of the habitat remains. ‘Here on the chalk, we have 80 per cent of the world’s population of early gentian,’ explains Grogen. ‘It’s a small plant that comes up in May and June and is only found on the island and on the other chalk in southern England.’ And the spectacular pyramidal orchid is so common on the island’s chalk downs that it has been declared the county flower.
Tumbling down
Today, the main threat to the AONB’s integrity comes from the sea. Coastal erosion has been a problem on the southern coast for centuries, according to Brownscombe, with the Needles the best-known result of that process. Currently, the sea’s constant battering consumes as much as a metre of coastline every year. The area also represents the largest inhabited rotational landslip in western Europe, so it’s hardly surprising that many coastal property owners here are anxious about the future.
Part of the problem can be traced to the region’s geology. A hard permeable sandstone sits alongside a type of mudstone, known locally as blue slipper because, when wet, it becomes lubricated and weak, causing the whole geological system to become unstable. The weakness of the clay and the solidity of the sandstone have led to some of the most spectacular landslips in Europe, and has resulted in the delightfully tumbling landscape found at St Catherine’s Point.
This area of broken ground is known as the undercliff, and has largely been left unmanaged, not only because attempts to control it would be extremely difficult and costly, but also because this unique feature of the Isle of Wight is internationally important for wildlife. ‘The ongoing erosion promotes species such as the Glanville fritillary, which is at the northern edge of its European distribution here – it needs that constantly crumbling cliff because it feeds on a plant that likes to live in open ground,’ says Grogan. Several important moths – such as the Isle of Wight wave and six-belted clearwing – can also be found there, while the very toe of the undercliff, at Castlehaven, is home to a type of burrowing wasp that is internationally rare.
But since most of the south coast remains undefended, the threat of landslides has made it a particularly difficult area to plan for, with conflicts between access, conservation and defence for the property owners an ongoing challenge. ‘There is some defence at Ventnor, which, although it had to be done to protect the homes there, has changed the local character,’ says Browscombe. ‘There’s also some defence at Steephill Cove – our last traditional fishing village – and there is also some at Castlehaven and St Catherine’s.’
These defences won’t halt the erosion or reduce the occurrence of landslips completely, says Brownscombe, but only slow it down. ‘There will be the slippage erosion that won’t be stopped by sea defences, but the more the toe is eroded away, the faster the inland erosion is likely to take place.’
Conservationists are dedicated to preserving the unusual nature of the landscape here and want the ongoing natural coastal processes to be allowed to continue freely because, they argue, the gradual
re-establishment of plant species and special microhabitats caused by continued landslides is essential for the plants and animals that live there.
Unstable future
The island’s abundant natural attributes are undoubtedly as important to the people who make the island their home as they are to the millions of visitors who flock here every year. But with erosion and landslides a constant threat to the southern coast, it’s difficult to predict how long people can go on living on one of the island’s most striking and curious natural assets, and, indeed, whether it will always be safe for visitors to explore it.
‘I don’t think we can ever be certain about how long it’s going to survive,’ says Brownscombe. ‘The Isle of Wight Centre for the Coastal Environment has secured European funding and is in the process of conducting studies to address the challenges presented by the undercliff – particularly in terms of climate change. What all this will find, only time will tell.’
While the future of the Isle of Wight’s south coast looks set to remain unstable for the time being, the island’s appeal to visitors is showing no sign of abating, and with the efforts of organisations such as the Isle of Wight AONB Unit striving to maintain – and enhance – the bounty of natural assets to be found here, the island’s reputation as ‘England in miniature’ is sure to be maintained for years to come.
July 2008
This feeling is heightened by the appearance of the surrounding scenery, which – alternating between peaks, gullies and, in some places, entire blocks of soil and rock – alludes to the force of past geological shifts along the southern coast of the Isle of Wight.
Just 37 kilometres long and 21 kilometres wide, this familiar diamond-shaped wedge of land is packed with an astonishing variety of landscapes. From rolling, broad-backed open downs, tranquil estuaries that teem with bird life and glorious ancient woodland to sandy bays, wooded chines and the unstable undercliff along the southern coast, the island’s natural assets have long been a source of enjoyment and wonder, enticing the earliest tourists back in the late 18th and early 19th centuries.
Well-heeled Victorian Britons who, having completed their grand tours of Europe, went in search of ‘the picturesque’ on their doorsteps, making a beeline for the unusual undercliff areas in the island’s south, in particular.
This early tourism economy gathered momentum soon after Queen Victoria and Prince Albert set up a summer residence in Osbourne House near East Cowes. ‘At one stage, it was known as “England’s Madeira” because of the different microclimate to be found here, particularly along the south coast,’ says John Brownscombe, lead AONB officer of the Isle of Wight Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB).
The number of people crossing the Solent to explore the island has now passed 2.5 million a year, in the process making a considerable contribution to the local economy. Perhaps unsurprisingly, tourism is the island’s main economic driver, employing around a quarter of the population of 140,000.
Land of the dinosaur
Designated in 1963, the Isle of Wight AONB covers about half of the island and is divided into five separate areas that each reflect the island’s diverse landscapes and encompass some of the best-known sites.
‘It has a highly complex geology in a very small area, and that has obviously led to a very varied landform,’ explains Brownscombe. ‘It’s likened to lowland Britain in miniature: you have a little bit of
the South Downs, a bit of Norfolk, some of the High Weald clay, and there’s quite a distinct area along the south coast known as the undercliff, as well as iconic features such as the Needles.’
A large proportion of visitors aren’t drawn to the scenery, however, but what lies beneath. With its layer cake of geological strata, the island draws fossil hunters from around the world, hoping to make a discovery to rival that of six-year-old Owain Lewis, who last year found the 120-million-year-old bones of a pterosaur (a type of flying reptile) while on holiday with his family at Compton Bay in the west.
Evidence of dinosaurs is regularly unearthed from the island, and leading palaeontologists and fossil hunters consider it to be one of the best fossil sites in Europe, if not the world, with skeletons of at least 15 species having been unearthed. Flakes of carbonised wood from ancient forests, black fragments of dinosaur bone and the well-preserved footprints of iguanodon can, I’m told, be relatively easily seen here, particularly along the two heritage coastlines within the AONB.
The Hamstead Heritage Coast runs 11 kilometres from Bouldnor through to Thorness Bay in the northwest. It’s dominated by the shallow, drowned estuary of the Newtown River, whose expanses of salt marsh and mudflats are important for birds.
The Tennyson Heritage Coast runs for 34 kilometres, from Steephill Cove in Ventnor to Totland, incorporating the Needles, cliffs and chines – steep-sided, narrow clefts running back into the cliffs that were once ancient river valleys and are unique to the Isle of Wight, Dorset and Hampshire. Along with the undercliff, between Luccombe Bay in the east and Blackgang Chine in the west, the chines provide the only habitat on the British Isles for the Glanville fritillary butterfly.
Red alert
The Glanville fritillary is just one of the island’s notable inhabitants. The Isle of Wight Biodiversity Action Plan identified 54 priority species on the island, a further 180 that are nationally important and 455 that are locally distinct, such as the red squirrel. The island is one of the last remaining bastions of the native red, which has been nationally pushed to the brink through a combination of competition with the eastern grey squirrel and habitat loss.
According to the Forestry Commission, there are about 140,000 red squirrels left in Britain, 3,500 of which are found on the Isle of Wight. ‘We reckon that every hectare on the island supports a squirrel,’ says Richard Grogan of the Hampshire and Isle of Wight Wildlife Trust. However, the highest densities can be found in the historic ancient woodland within the AONB, alongside another much-loved British mammal. ‘Our woodlands are characterised by being the last place in Britain where the dormouse and red squirrel live in native woodland. Red squirrels are found in 90 per cent of our woodland and 70 per cent of the woodlands have dormice.’
The band of chalk that runs through the island from the Needles to Culver Down is another of the island’s important habitats. Traditionally, it has been grazed by sheep – in much the same way as on the South Downs – helping to promote wildflower and invertebrate diversity, which, in turn, attracts birds. Despite the fact that chalk grassland on the island has declined by two thirds since 1850, a mosaic of the habitat remains. ‘Here on the chalk, we have 80 per cent of the world’s population of early gentian,’ explains Grogen. ‘It’s a small plant that comes up in May and June and is only found on the island and on the other chalk in southern England.’ And the spectacular pyramidal orchid is so common on the island’s chalk downs that it has been declared the county flower.
Tumbling down
Today, the main threat to the AONB’s integrity comes from the sea. Coastal erosion has been a problem on the southern coast for centuries, according to Brownscombe, with the Needles the best-known result of that process. Currently, the sea’s constant battering consumes as much as a metre of coastline every year. The area also represents the largest inhabited rotational landslip in western Europe, so it’s hardly surprising that many coastal property owners here are anxious about the future.
Part of the problem can be traced to the region’s geology. A hard permeable sandstone sits alongside a type of mudstone, known locally as blue slipper because, when wet, it becomes lubricated and weak, causing the whole geological system to become unstable. The weakness of the clay and the solidity of the sandstone have led to some of the most spectacular landslips in Europe, and has resulted in the delightfully tumbling landscape found at St Catherine’s Point.
This area of broken ground is known as the undercliff, and has largely been left unmanaged, not only because attempts to control it would be extremely difficult and costly, but also because this unique feature of the Isle of Wight is internationally important for wildlife. ‘The ongoing erosion promotes species such as the Glanville fritillary, which is at the northern edge of its European distribution here – it needs that constantly crumbling cliff because it feeds on a plant that likes to live in open ground,’ says Grogan. Several important moths – such as the Isle of Wight wave and six-belted clearwing – can also be found there, while the very toe of the undercliff, at Castlehaven, is home to a type of burrowing wasp that is internationally rare.
But since most of the south coast remains undefended, the threat of landslides has made it a particularly difficult area to plan for, with conflicts between access, conservation and defence for the property owners an ongoing challenge. ‘There is some defence at Ventnor, which, although it had to be done to protect the homes there, has changed the local character,’ says Browscombe. ‘There’s also some defence at Steephill Cove – our last traditional fishing village – and there is also some at Castlehaven and St Catherine’s.’
These defences won’t halt the erosion or reduce the occurrence of landslips completely, says Brownscombe, but only slow it down. ‘There will be the slippage erosion that won’t be stopped by sea defences, but the more the toe is eroded away, the faster the inland erosion is likely to take place.’
Conservationists are dedicated to preserving the unusual nature of the landscape here and want the ongoing natural coastal processes to be allowed to continue freely because, they argue, the gradual
re-establishment of plant species and special microhabitats caused by continued landslides is essential for the plants and animals that live there.
Unstable future
The island’s abundant natural attributes are undoubtedly as important to the people who make the island their home as they are to the millions of visitors who flock here every year. But with erosion and landslides a constant threat to the southern coast, it’s difficult to predict how long people can go on living on one of the island’s most striking and curious natural assets, and, indeed, whether it will always be safe for visitors to explore it.
‘I don’t think we can ever be certain about how long it’s going to survive,’ says Brownscombe. ‘The Isle of Wight Centre for the Coastal Environment has secured European funding and is in the process of conducting studies to address the challenges presented by the undercliff – particularly in terms of climate change. What all this will find, only time will tell.’
While the future of the Isle of Wight’s south coast looks set to remain unstable for the time being, the island’s appeal to visitors is showing no sign of abating, and with the efforts of organisations such as the Isle of Wight AONB Unit striving to maintain – and enhance – the bounty of natural assets to be found here, the island’s reputation as ‘England in miniature’ is sure to be maintained for years to come.
July 2008
