Through a locked gate down an unsignposted lane, the road abruptly ends on a shingle beach by a muddy channel. For four hours at low tide, a twisty, seaweed-fringed track is exposed, winding its way to the mysterious island of Osea.
The Essex coast is as long as that of the Netherlands, and full of surprises. Osea is, perhaps, the biggest. A tidal island in the Blackwater estuary, it has had a strange, sometimes scandalous past, and is experiencing an equally interesting present.
In 1903, Frederick Charrington, a repentant brewing millionaire, founded a “home for inebriates” on the island, deciding that being 90 minutes from London but marooned in the Blackwater estuary made Osea’s 400 acres a perfect retreat for city alcoholics. A hundred years later, history repeated itself when an elite detox clinic opened there to receive patients including Amy Winehouse. After that was closed down in 2010, Osea has re-emerged as a recording studio, wedding venue and party island for hipsters and paparazzi-shy aristocrats. Its self-catering cottages and villas are also available for more normal family holidays and short breaks, which is how we ended up taking our toddlers to explore this secret, private island.
The causeway looked barely passable but, with a little tyre-spin on the shingle beach, we made it on to the gravel track that leads to “the village”. This is a cluster of Victorian weatherboard cottages and a rambling Edwardian house, pebbledashed against the unceasing wind. It was this salty and seaweedy air that made the biggest first impression: every lungful seemed charged with extra oxygen.
On the south side of the island is the turreted Manor House, the former clinic, now converted into a residential recording studio and wedding venue, and the Captain’s House, a 1920s villa by the shore on the heights of Osea (five metres above sea level). This capacious, superbly sited house was our home for a two-night break. Like other self-catering houses on the island, it is coolly done out: four-poster beds, leather sofas, freestanding baths, exposed floorboards, antique books, old copies of National Geographic (a 1962 edition proclaimed Tahiti to be the “finest island in the world”) and a colonial feel, thanks to artfully arranged old suitcases and black-and-white framed photos of yachts.
In the 1980s and 1990s, the homes on Osea were let to a variety of bohemian tenants, including painter Luke Elwes, renegade ex-spy David Shayler and music producer Nigel Frieda, who founded the Matrix Studio in London, where bands from the Rolling Stones to Adam Ant have recorded. Frieda, who was also behind the Sugarbabes, liked Osea so much he ended up buying it. In recent years, he has been refurbishing the island’s houses and, three summers ago, the tabloids got excited because actors and models such as Jaime Winstone and Poppy Delevingne posted photos of their parties on the island.
It’s still pretty hip: in summer 2015, Island Records hosted an invitation-only bash on the island; Jack Garratt, the winner of the BBC’s Sound of 2016 award, played there; and The Weeknd chose Osea for his only 2015 UK date. Musicians from George Ezra and SBTRKT to Labrinth and Jessie J have recorded in Osea’s studios. Clubs also bus London partygoers on to the island for special events: dance club night The Hydra has hosted its Lost in a Moment Festivals for two years running on Osea. Krug champagne also hosted a “Krug Island” event on Osea last month with workshops, tastings and music curated by former Clash guitarist Mick Jones.
But despite all that – or perhaps just because it was autumn, with leaves turning golden and conkers falling – there was a poignantly dishevelled feel about Osea. Post-party confetti was scattered by one of the beach-side gazebos, and stacks of wedding chairs were waiting to be put away for the winter. On one of Osea’s empty grass fields, we found a lost mobile phone and a discarded can of Red Bull. We weren’t having a rave but once on Osea (assuming you bury any scruples you may have about privately owned islands), you can’t help but feel you can do whatever you want.
Frieda’s philosophy is a laissez-faire one: visitors can wander anywhere, help themselves to Raleigh Chloe bikes – with special fat tyres for the tracks and beaches – borrow DVDs from the library, play pool, table tennis and tennis, or (in summer) swim in the outdoor pool. There are few notices and only a couple of hand-painted signs – to “the bomb factory” and “the shack”, both of which are converted warehouses with dance floors empty and waiting for the music.
Osea is a do-it-yourself kind of spot and, between the parties, and particularly in the winter months, its empty shores – a protected site of special scientific interest – are alive with the chatter of Brent geese and the bubbling call of curlew.
It is not cheap to stay on Osea and there have been one or two complaints online about the shabbiness of its “shabby chic”. When we stayed, the Captain’s House kitchen was missing some basic equipment (big pans, decent knives, a bottle opener) but I still adored it: sea views on two sides of the master bedroom made it feel like staying on a ship. And, for me, the wild corners of the island – I found the remains of a bonfire where people had smashed up an old car and probably howled at the moon – only added to Osea’s thrilling strangeness.
We picked samphire and blackberries and went birdwatching, while our toddlers played on the shingle and in wooden gazebos. We wandered through overgrown fields and discovered old wartime pillboxes. Together, we watched the ever-changing sea and marvelled in our islandness, gazing at the land over the grand, salty moat between us and the mainstream.
Way to go
Osea Island (020 7384 6403, oseaisland.co.uk) has nine period cottages, six apartments, two beach cottages and the Captain’s House and Manor House available for self-catering holiday lets. For a two-night stay, peak prices range from £490-£4,995; off-peak from £355-£3,850. Follow Osea’s Instagram account for event announcements: @oseaislanduk
