The freedom to teach

Children at Herm School are the free-range variety, living Enid Blyton-style lives and enjoying the kind of dedicated teaching that an eight-strong roll allows. And that's what retiring teacher Janet Sandrey will miss, as Zoe Ash discovered I AM rattling down the hill in Herm on the 'croc', a six-wheel, off-road buggy, with Janet Sandrey, clad in wet weather clothes, at the wheel. Janet is the sole teacher at the island's tiny school and appears to be fazed by nothing.

It's pouring with rain and we're careering down to catch the boat home, a regular trip in this far-from-regular teaching job. There's water dripping off the bottom of her glasses but she's telling me enthusiastically about Prince Charles's visit, the highlight of her 11 years spent teaching on the island.

With strong winds and wild seas on the day of his visit, the boat had to take its chances and ended up leaving Guernsey at an unscheduled time. Janet missed her usual lift but managed to hitch one on the workboat, Sarnia, with some of the prince's security guards.

As they came into dock at Herm Harbour, a huge wave crashed over the front of the boat. One of the guards threw himself in front of her and took the full force, saving her from a soaking.

It was all in a day's work for him - and also for Janet, who retires today.

During her years there she has seen 35 children pass through what must be one of Britain's smallest schools. Currently it has just eight pupils.

It's a far cry from Castel Primary School, where Janet taught for 13 years before turning to supply teaching when her sons, Jay and Will, were growing up.

A phone call from the Education Department offered her work at Herm School to cover sick leave. 'I asked how long it would be for and George Foote, the then deputy director of Education, told me: 'Possibly weeks, possibly months?.

'It turned out to be six months and I loved my time at the school, so when a full time position came up a couple of years later I went for it,' she says, 'and got it.'

Technically, Herm is a state school and falls under the care of Vauvert School, which makes Philip Lowe its head teacher and Janet the teacher-in-charge.

Every Wednesday in term time she and the pupils spend the day at the Guernsey school - weather permitting.

'If the weather is fine I meet them at Vauvert in the morning. If it's rough, I'll go down to the boat and have a look. It's up to the parents really, though the old skipper of the Trident would say, ?No, I'm not taking the children today?.'

Only once have afternoon lessons at the bigger school had to be abandoned - because of a warning call from the Trident offices saying that late sailings had been cancelled.

And if Guernsey-based Janet can't get to Herm or the weekly trip has to be cancelled because of rough weather, there are contingency plans.

'We use wet weather packs,' eight-year-old William tells me, reaching for a folder containing work that the pupils are asked to do at home.

It is linked to the school curriculum, though Janet does have a certain amount of freedom. She needs it: the pupils span in age from five to nine years old.

But that's not all that is unusual about the school.

'It's unique,' Janet begins. Then she is side-tracked by Charlie Knight, six, who is waiting patiently to show off a drawing he has done of her.

'I like it Charlie, I really do,' Janet tells him. 'But can you see my eyes?' - she lowers her glasses - 'they're green, can you draw them green? Heidi can you help?'

Then she's back with me. 'It's nice that the older children can help the younger ones. That's what's so unusual about this school.'

The pupils, she says, are all very confident.

'We're lucky because we have a certain amount of independence. We're not completely governed by the clock, we don't have anyone else to fit around in the school.'

A bonus is the fact that the children progress through their years there with the same teacher, creating strong bonds on both sides.

'You're bound to,' she says, 'it's inevitable. I still have the discipline if I need it, though. They're very lucky to be in this little group.'

The only thing the school undoubtedly has to fit around is that unpredictable weather, which can regularly disrupt life. When the children were asked if they had ever been stranded in Guernsey or had to cancel plans because they couldn't get off Herm, a sea of hands flew up, everyone desperate to tell stories of missed drama groups and school trips.

Brothers William and Charlie Knight were waving their hands frantically at the front.

'We had to stay in a hotel,' says a wide-eyed Will, 'but I found it quite hard to sleep because of all the cars. I'm not used to them, they're very noisy.'

'We have PE on a Tuesday afternoon don't we?' adds Janet, 'but what has it done every Tuesday lately?'

'Poured with rain,' the children chorus.

They accept it, though, because it's part of their life.

Janet recalls an afternoon when she'd been put up at the White House Hotel because of a keen wind that prevented sailing.

'I was sat in the bar with a glass of wine and the pick of the rooms. It was great! Then I looked out of the window and saw the Trident coming over to get me. The next thing, I'm on the way back to make tea for my husband and the boys. It wasn't meant to be.'

One thing that was noticeable when chatting with Janet and her pupils was that, regardless of their varying ages, all have strong, sparky personalities.

The two girls, Heidi Jones and Bethany Hollett, are outnumbered this year by six boys. But when their new teacher, Mary Carey, takes over next term there will be two more - Maya and Honey will bring numbers up to 10 pupils in all.

Mary is originally from Guernsey but has been teaching in Nottingham since she qualified. She has three children between the ages of 11 and 15 and is certain to have her hands full adjusting to her new job - and its transport problems.

'In 11 years I've only missed the boat once,' says Janet, 'but I managed to hitch a lift on the Jethou boat so the school was only five minutes late opening. You know that if you miss the boat the school won't open, it's that simple.'

Pupils, all of whom are island residents, attend Herm School until they are nine years old and then must look further afield - usually to Guernsey - for further education. It's an unusual, but potentially idyllic, lifestyle. Charlie loves it.

'I can go camping on the beach and ride my bike - I learnt to ride it with Bethany at the campsite.'

Charlie is a great storyteller and tells me all about his recent camping trip.

'We went up to the North Beach by the obelisk. There was me, my brothers William and Elliot, mum and Bethany. We built a big campfire. It was the day before Father's Day and dad came down to the beach for breakfast the next day.'

There is a great camaraderie between the Herm children. Most have grown up together and are great friends, and newcomers seem to blend straight into this relaxed community. Their parents are all involved in it, from being head gardener to running the gift shop. I tell Jack Noble, whose dad does the latter, that I'm very jealous because it's one of my favourite shops, reminding me of balmy family summer holidays.

'It's my favourite shop, too,' says William, 'because it's the only one in Herm.'

It is things like this that remind me of the unique community in which these children are growing up. It's the stuff of Enid Blyton fiction.

William seems less impressed with his 'Brainy Box' nickname but I try to explain that it's a good thing. The children might not agree on everything, but one thing they were unanimous about was how much they were going to miss their teacher.

The feeling will be mutual. 'I've loved my time here,' says Janet, 'and not many people can say that about their job, especially after 11 years.

'And I know a lot more about southerly winds, too.'