Best Foot Forward An Island Parish

Lying just 80 miles across the English Channel,

close to the French coast of Normandy,

are the beautiful Channel Islands.

The smallest of the four main islands is Sark, a magical place,

bursting with character, that some say time has forgotten.

It's full of surprises...

..and unusual customs. A unique place, where there are no cars.

Sark is home to a warm and close community,

with two different churches at its heart.

Both are led by women.

May he nourish us by his presence.

One Anglican...

..the other, Methodist.

The island has a spectacular beauty and tranquillity,

making it the ideal antidote to modern life.

But during the course of the summer,

Sark will face a series of dramatic events.

This year, the island seems to have been hit by one shock after another.

The two churches will try to unite to help the tiny community

as its cherished way of life is shaken to the core.

What's at the heart of Sark, what makes Sark, the community,

the care for one another, that's what's important.

Just nine miles from Guernsey

lies the jewel of the Channel Islands, Sark.

It has no airport, so the only way to get here is by ferry boat...

..weather permitting.

Just three miles long and a mile and a half wide,

with only 600 residents,

Sark is arguably the most unusual place on our shores.

There are no cars on the island.

Visitors must take the aptly named toast rack,

pulled by tractor to the top of the hill,

where horse and carriage taxis wait for business.

The main form of transport is two wheeled and keeps the islanders fit.

Puffin Taylour is chair of the Sark Carnival Committee.

You'll find her whizzing around the lanes in all weathers.

People say, "What do you do on Sark? It's so quiet,"

but when you're here there's so much.

It really is a very, very lively place.

You have to have a very good calendar to keep up with everything.

Bye.

Now, after a long and hard winter,

spring's arrival has provoked the locals into a flurry of activity.

Just up from the tiny harbour,

fisherman Bas Adams is getting ready for the lobster fishing season.

We've repaired all the pots and they're all ready to go in,

but the weather hasn't been favourable for painting.

There's been, you know, so much fog, we just couldn't paint.

But yesterday, we had a jolly good day.

I'll be honest with you,

I prefer painting the boat than painting the house.

But, er, you better not let my wife hear that.

Bas is a direct descendant of Sark's first settlers,

who came here during Elizabethan times.

I was born here and I've lived here 74 years.

I'm quite happy, yeah.

I've been fishing around for 50 or 60 years.

Despite being well past retirement age,

he still goes to sea six days a week during the fishing season.

My grandfather and my uncle, that's how I started.

I was only about six and I used to go with them.

Sometimes they used to say, "No, you'd better not come today, you'll be seasick."

Sometimes I used to get ill,

my grandfather used to stick me in a barrel and cover me with a tarpaulin.

When I did feel better, I used to come out

and even after going through that, you know,

I still used to go the next day.

If they didn't want to take me, I used to cry

because I wanted to go so much.

Sark's a wonderful place. There's no two questions about it.

It's so different to all the other islands.

That's what makes it so unique. You couldn't wish for anything better.

I couldn't, anyway.

In the middle of the island lies St Peter's, Sark's Anglican church.

There's been a place of worship here

since the days of the first settlers who arrived in 1565.

The vicar is Gillian Nicholls.

A newcomer to the island,

she recently arrived here from rural Buckinghamshire.

I've been here for five months now,

so I'm really beginning to feel I belong. Um...

To start with, obviously, you feel as if you've come in from outside,

you don't know anybody and it's very much a steep learning curve.

Trying to get hold of as many names as possible

and work out who's who and how the thing works and so on.

I'm a long way from being an islander,

but in terms of loving it, I'm an islander.

As Gill's first Easter on Sark approaches,

it's an exciting time for islanders and vicar alike.

It is an incredible time,

and the fact that this week is gloriously sunny and warm

gives an extra sense of everything bursting into life.

Shops that haven't been open are opening

and people are painting their boats

and everything seems to be just coming to life at the moment.

Lambs are being born.

There's that sense of newness of life, resurrection,

Easter on the way.

The Sark Anglicans are very proud of their church.

They've been busy raising funds to restore the windows in time for the Easter services.

They've just raised £6,000 in order to have this one re-done.

It's a wonderful picture because he actually becomes the head of the...

He becomes... No, you're better when you stay... Now, that's perfect...

I've always wanted to be Saint George.

You look as if you're, er in...

-Slay a few dragons.

-You look as if you're in a suit of armour.

St Peter's isn't the only place of worship on the island.

There's another church here on Sark, just a short cycle ride away -

the Methodist chapel.

It's been here for over 200 years

and the lay minister is Karen Le Mouton.

Le Mouton means "the sheep", so when Steve and I got married,

obviously our friends decided now's the time for us

to start a new collection, and they decided it should be sheep.

Hence sheep jumper, sheep earrings.

Also, we've got loads and loads of sheep of all descriptions

and all shapes and sizes that we've been given over the years,

and we have now a huge flock in our house.

And it's quite apt being the pastor of the Methodist church

because, you know, you're there to shepherd your flock.

Karen's from the neighbouring island of Jersey

and like her Anglican colleague, Gill,

she's still getting accustomed to Sark's unique ways.

I had a slight advantage in that I know island life

and about the Channel Islands, so I can help support her through

some of the idiosyncrasies that are only really known by islanders.

So that's been quite helpful

and I've been able to, sort of,

hold Gill's hand and help her through those bits.

Over the last few months, Karen and Gill have become close friends and allies.

Now they've decided to try something

that would be very new for both their congregations.

In a place like Sark, where you've got a set community,

you don't want to be competing with one another.

We're all a body of Christ.

But it does present a few problems,

as the Anglicans and Methodists here on Sark

do have different ways of doing things.

SINGING

I can't hear you.

On the whole, generally,

the Methodists tend to be slightly more informal than the Anglicans.

It looks like bridging these differences

could be much more of a challenge than Gill and Karen expect.

Chorister Linda Williams has lived on Sark for 40 years

and she knows how the St Peter's congregation ticks.

We will adapt, but we do it very, very slowly.

As long as it's not forced down our throats, you know.

I think it's quite important that the vicar should take on board

who we are and what we need.

Nevertheless, Karen and Gill have decided to try and bring their different congregations together

for one of the upcoming Easter services.

They've come up with an idea for part of the service

and they hope it will provoke a lot of thought.

Just across the field, the lambing season's getting underway.

Shepherd David Scott has been a sheep farmer here on Sark

since he was a boy.

It's ideal sheep country really.

They graze right down to the water's edge in places.

Well, to the cliff edge, anyway.

These are all my old girls, these are.

10 or 11 is the youngest, I should imagine,

and the oldest is probably about 14.

Old Hazel over there, she's quite a good age.

Hazel!

BLEATING

Well, you tell the age by looking at their teeth.

So the first year, they have a set of lamb's teeth,

and then the second year they get two teeth,

the third year they get four teeth, the fourth year they get six teeth,

the fifth year they get eight teeth and then they start losing them.

Have any of these got any teeth at all?

I think she's got a couple. I'm not sure.

I'll pick this one...

Hang on, girlie, let's just have a look at your teeth.

Oh, no, she's got teeth. Yeah, she's got a full mouth.

Come on then, Percy.

David can't go anywhere without being shadowed by his new friend, Persil.

Hand reared from birth,

David plans to get Persil ready over the coming months

to star in an extraordinary, world-famous island tradition -

the Sark annual sheep race.

People must think it's mad when they hear about it, don't they?

It must be the most unusual form of sport ever.

Er...it's certainly, it's certainly unusual, yeah.

And we do a bit of training.

We'll move the sheep round the island with the dogs

and the youngsters tend to move rather rapidly,

so when people see me racing around

after sheep which have torn off down the road,

we say we're in training for the sheep racing.

Do you have any of the locals that kind of come up

and try and get inside information?

-Because a lot of money exchanges hands.

-Oh, yeah.

People always sort of ask which one's likely to be a good runner.

What about little Persil here?

They're always an unknown entity, tame lambs.

You never know quite whether they're going to run

or whether they're just going to just stay by your side.

Gill, the Anglican vicar,

is popping over to see her friend, the Methodist lay minister, Karen,

to finalise plans for their exciting upcoming joint service at St Peter's.

-Hi, Karen.

-Hello, Gill, come on in.

It's definitely being noticed in the community that we are working together closely.

But what none of their parishioners know

is that what they're planning to do

has never been tried in the Anglican church on Sark before.

Where were you thinking of doing it?

I was originally thinking about doing it in the sanctuary,

but it could work at the steps,

but it just depends really

whether the majority of the people are behind us or in front of us.

If there's not that many,

would they then move to the choir stalls, do you think?

We could have it further...

We could try. You know what...

how reluctant people are to come forward, especially Anglicans,

they'd rather sit at the back.

Do you think it would be a step too far to actually invite

anybody to come up as well?

Yes.

Yes, I think it's probably revolutionary enough.

That might be one step further than perhaps we're all ready to go.

Over at David's sheep farm, there are a lot of hungry mouths to feed.

Make sure you don't mix it up too warm.

At the peak of lambing season,

David might make up as many as 100 bottles each week.

There we go.

I've got my shepherd's Thermos here,

in case I get waylaid on the way by something.

I know it's not going to go cold too quick.

With Persil at his side, he's checking his pregnant ewes.

So far this year, they've given birth to over 150 lambs,

and there are more on the way.

I've got a ewe here.

She's just had two lambs and I think she's going to have another one.

It's either the first thing in the morning or the end of the day.

Just when you think your day's just about done for a few hours,

you'll have a ewe decide to come round.

David's grown accustomed to many a sleepless night during lambing season,

but this year, there is an added complication.

David's wife, Estelle, is nine months pregnant

with their first child and due any day.

Good. Well, the more that get born now, the better.

Yeah.

Here you go. There you go.

May I ask? Do you know? You're not expecting twins, are you?

No, I hope not. They promise me it's a single. Yep.

Sark has no hospital,

and giving birth on the island requires some planning.

I call the doctor, he comes down

and assesses how far gone I am in labour, and then he calls...

We have an ambulance boat called the Flying Christine,

and he will call them and notify them

and then I go by tractor ambulance down to the harbour

and get in the ambulance boat and then get to Guernsey

and get in the ambulance the other side and go up to the hospital.

In the worst case scenario, we'll...

If we give birth here, we give birth here and everything's, you know, fine.

But ideally, the aim is to give birth in Guernsey.

You seem terribly calm.

Yeah. I think when I go into labour, I may not be quite so calm,

but, yeah, that's the plan.

It looks like the wait might be over, here in the field.

There's definitely one foot there.

Good girl. Good girl.

Come away, come on. Good girl.

Just want to make sure his nose is clear. He just starts to breathe.

David's years as a shepherd have taught him not to intervene

unless there's a real problem.

The best thing is just to let her get used to them for half an hour or so

and then I'll bring them into the shed.

That's really very exciting for you, isn't it?

Yeah, it's always very exciting. Every birth's exciting.

Yeah, it's lovely, you know.

She did it all by herself as well.

Another successful birth achieved, but the night's not over yet.

David's still on standby for his own wife, Estelle.

Many aspects of life on Sark

make it one of the most unusual islands anywhere in the world.

Crime is low, and so they have just one island constable.

There is a doctor...

..and an ambulance service,

and a volunteer fire brigade, headed up by the church organist.

From the outside,

it seems this tiny island is the perfect place to settle.

Maybe that's why some who visit Sark never leave.

Chorister Linda Williams first set foot on Sark in the 1970s

and now runs a B&B.

I came here just to work for a summer season

and I stayed here because it was so different

and because, to me, it was idyllic.

How would you describe a typical Sark person?

Well, first and foremost, stubborn!

Always hardworking.

People are self-sufficient.

We don't have any back-up,

any national health or insurance

or pensions or anything like that.

There's no dole, so everybody is responsible for themselves.

I have been told when I've disagreed too heartily with them that,

"You're an outsider," you know,

"and if you don't like it, you know when the boat goes."

Which I think is fair enough.

You know, it's the Sarkese people,

they don't really adapt to change very well,

and I side myself very much with them.

It's the Thursday before Easter,

and up at St Peter's, the Anglican church,

the joint service with the Methodists has begun.

HYMN SINGING

Gill's hoping that tonight's unusual addition won't be too much

for the more conservative members of her congregation.

After all, this is a church where services have changed little in 350 years.

It's very much more traditional.

It's the 1662 services, rather than Common Worship,

which is what I've been using for a number of years now.

I think it's getting the balance between change for change's sake

and a change that, actually,

is going to bring new vitality into the community.

We kneel to pray together.

'It's always a very difficult balance to get,'

so it's treading carefully, or trying to tread carefully.

May he bring you his pardon and peace. Amen.

Now the long-awaited moment has arrived for the two preachers.

Karen and I are now going to wash each other's feet.

Part of the reason for that is that Jesus prayed

that his church would be one.

Karen, let me wash your feet.

This simple act of foot-washing

might be quite acceptable in Anglican churches across the world.

On Sark, however, it comes as a bit of a shock.

It's never been seen here before.

Change is difficult for anybody

because we're all more comfortable in our own little boxes.

There's a way of handling change

which has got to be a small step at a time.

I'm not talking about changing everything dramatically,

but just adding, adding to their lives.

After the service, the silence is deafening.

It remains to be seen what the reaction will be to tonight's foot-washing.

There's one event taking place this Easter that definitely isn't going to spark controversy -

a centuries-old tradition down at the island duck pond.

Youngsters get their feet wet, messing about with model boats.

It's open for kids of all ages.

It's not my boat.

It's my grandchild's.

You're clearly enjoying yourself.

Rather.

And one never to miss such an event

is chair of the Sark Carnival Committee, Puffin Taylour.

Well, look at the crowds that are here. It's absolutely marvellous.

It's just a tradition where we all come down, with a boat,

we raise money for charity selling hot cross buns and hot chocolate.

We've had it in snow, we've had it in baking hot weather.

And then towards the end, all the children really just go in

and regard it as a big paddling pool and get wet.

Up at her B&B, chorister Linda Williams

is reflecting on last night's feet-washing service,

which has provoked a less than positive reaction

from some members of the congregation.

It's never been done in the Anglican church before.

We go to church week in, week out.

We go through the cycle of services through the year

and it can be pretty much the same.

Why do you think people might have been worried about it?

Probably because it would have been out of their comfort zone.

And perhaps it was a bit thought-provoking as well.

I certainly wouldn't take my shoes off and let everybody see my feet!

It's Easter Sunday and the bells of St Peter's,

rung by Puffin Taylour, summon the islanders to worship.

Fisherman Bas Adams is safely back from sea in time to lead the choir.

Today, there's no joint service with the Methodists.

Instead, the island's faithful are back on home ground,

in their two separate churches.

But over at the Methodist chapel, unusually,

there's no sign of Karen at the front door.

Apparently she's done something bad to her foot.

She was in a lot of pain.

I'm expecting her, because she's amazing,

to do the service this morning out of a wheelchair because it's communion

so she will feel that's really important for Easter.

But if not, we will all rally round.

Someone will do the readings and someone will do the prayers.

This is an island community. That's what everybody does on an island.

They help out and rally to the cause if there's a problem.

Surely this can't be a result of the foot-washing?

Karen, what's happened?

I had a slight accident yesterday with a concrete paving slab

and I think I've broken my toe.

It's going to be X-rayed later today over at the hospital in Guernsey,

so we'll have to make arrangements to get over there.

Good morning and a happy Easter to you all.

Now, I will apologise for sitting down.

I had a slight incident with a concrete paving slab yesterday,

so please bear with me.

Down at the ambulance station,

Dave, the ambulance man, is getting ready for his latest customer.

Until now, he thought he'd seen it all.

Oh, yes, certainly the first Methodist minister with a broken toe.

There's no hospital on Sark,

so for Karen and her husband, Steve, this is the first stage

of a journey to the nearest one, on the neighbouring island of Guernsey.

I smile today, but I was shedding many a tear yesterday.

But Karen's husband, Steve, has a guilty secret.

It seems he knows more about her broken toe than he's letting on.

It's very unfortunate, we were just making this platform for her

to put her bike into the shed and I got two edging stones

and of course, one of the stones was a bit broken.

And so I decided to move it and I flicked it over, and of course,

Karen was standing too close to me and it landed on her foot.

And of course, you know how heavy those stones are.

I was in a lot of pain.

On a small island, news travels fast.

They're going to X-ray it, I guess,

and then decide what treatment will be necessary.

It was a real... We couldn't believe it when we heard that.

In more acute medical situations,

patients are evacuated from Sark by special ambulance speedboat.

But Karen's broken toe is not considered an emergency,

so today, she'll take the 50-minute journey to Guernsey

by the regular afternoon ferry.

Only when she gets the results of the X-ray will Karen find out

how long she'll be out of action.

Her busy diary will be put on hold.

Her concern now is how she will get about on an island where cars are banned?

Life is about to get very difficult indeed.

In the days to come, David's hands are full with another new arrival.

Come on then, screechypants.

You have good mornings and then the afternoon goes pear-shaped.

And the evenings are always horrendous.

A very special thoroughbred sets foot on the island...

-What's he called?

-He's actually called Ronaldo,

but it's a bit posh so we're calling him Ron.

..marking the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

The island remembers the dark days of occupation...

A celebration of freedom.

A day etched in the minds of those who lived through it.

..and an unlikely love story involving a German officer

and a Sark girl, which led to a long and happy marriage.

We've been married, what, 64 years?

64 years. I was very grateful to Hitler to send me here.

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