How I Tried to Buy a Phantom Island from The Hudson's Bay Company

The recent news that The Hudson’s Bay Company in Canada is closing all its stores and has sold its brand names to a competitor, reminded me of my attempt to buy a non-existent island from the Company. Their plaque proudly boasts it was founded on 2 May 1670, when it was given charters by Charles II to explore lands in the North Atlantic, and exclusive rights to trade with these. By modern times it had developed into a chain of department stores selling household goods, hardware and soft furnishings, among other things.

I have long been interested in islands sighted, thought once to exist and marked on maps, but which we now know were navigational mistakes or fantasies. As I have noted before, there are a small number of charming and fascinating books on this theme, including Raymond Ramsay's No Longer On the Map (1972), Henry Stommel's Lost Islands: The Story of Islands That Have Vanished from Nautical Charts (1984) and Donald S Johnson's Phantom Islands of the Atlantic (1994).

One of these islands, supposed to be somewhere in the North Atlantic between Ireland and Iceland, was named Buss Island. This was sighted variously close to Rockall or further out, south of Greenland, and on several occasions. A Martin Frobisher expedition to find the North West Passage reported seeing it in 1578 from their ship Emanuel, a type of vessel known as a “buss”, hence the name.  

A captain of the Hudson’s Bay Company, Thomas Shepherd of the Golden Lion, claimed to have landed there in 1671. Taking no chances against rival powers, or rival merchants, the Company soon secured the rights to Buss Island from the king: and these rights had never been relinquished, though it was removed from maps in the early 19^th century. Explanations for its appearance include sunken islands, icebergs, mirages in mist and outright invention to justify further voyages.

In 2003 I wrote to the then current incarnation of the Company as follows: ‘This is a rather unusual query. In 1675 the Company was granted a Charter to an island that did not, in fact, exist: Buss Island, which had been mistakenly sighted by earlier mariners. I would like to acquire these rights from you, purely as a piece of whimsy, and because I am writing a novel based on the story. I know this may seem a somewhat out-of-the-ordinary inquiry . . .’

The idea had come to me after reading Margaret Elphinstone’s Hy Brasil (2002), about an imaginary version of this long-fabled island said to exist in the Atlantic. The author had kindly allowed me to issue stamps for her fictional version of the island, and I had in mind a similar plan for Buss Island. It was a shame it did not have a more romantic name: Emanuel, Frobisher’s, Shepherd’s or Golden Lion Island would have been much better. Perhaps I could re-name it. The novel I was writing, or rather thinking about, never got any further, although the idea of lost islands remains an alluring theme. 

The reply I received from the Company’s Manager of Heritage Services, was somewhat bemused but tolerant and quite interested. It read: ‘Yours is indeed an unusual request! Usually people who want to buy something from us are very interested in the tangible aspect of what they will obtain . . .  I am curious: where did you learn about Buss Island, and that Hbc "owned" it? The ready mention to it we found is in the Peter C. Newman book "A Company of Adventurers" but it certainly is not the only source talking about this island. I have initiated a discussion within the company - imaginary or not the island is, there are still administrative procedures to follow - and, can I share the fun we are all having over this? Newman mentions that the only surviving trace of Hbc ownership of Buss island is in the Northamptonshire Records Office: have you had the privilege of seeing it? . . . I would welcome any additional information you could pass on to me, it would be very much appreciated.’

The proof of the company’s rights to Buss Island to which this reply refers was a supplementary charter of which the only copy was in the Records Office named. This was in fact in my home county, which seemed a nice coincidence, and I knew this archive quite well since I had delved there when researching the holy wells of the shire, but I was unaware then of the important charter. Understandably, the charter was only available to view in person and by appointment, and I was then no longer near Northamptonshire. The Company did, however, draw my attention to an article in Beaver Magazine, entitled "Mythical land of Buss" by Alice M. Johnson, in the December 1942 issue, p.43-47, which reproduces an image of the charter.

I replied to this message on 7 March 2003, explaining ‘I heard about Buss Island in a book called "Phantom Islands of the Atlantic" by Donald S. Johnson (Goose Lane Editions, New Brunswick, 1994, and Souvenir Press, England, 1997). According to this (pps 72-3), HBC were granted a charter by Charles II bestowing ownership of the island and all the trading, mining rights, etc, in 1675. But in fact the island never existed: it was the result of navigational and sighting errors by mariners. There is an entire chapter in Johnson's book about the non-existent island.’

Sensing that even a non-existent island might have the potential to be what is called an incorporeal asset, and the Company, now alerted, might be reluctant to part with it, I made a bid instead for more fantastical licences. ‘It's very good of you to respond so well to what must seem a very peculiar request. May I just leave another thought with you? If for nostalgic or other reasons the Company could not see its way to "selling" the island, perhaps we could devise some fanciful rights in the island that the Company could grant to me - such as, for example, the rights to any dragons’ eggs or serpent farming or silver mines!’

Well, no doubt the Company had plenty of other pressing business and it was good-humoured of them to indulge me thus far. In due course I received a brief and evidently final reply thanking me again for re-acquainting them with Buss Island but adding that the Company had decided not to dispose of any of its rights. There was, I recall, during the correspondence, a vague idea that they might somehow make use of the island in their heritage brands, but I am not aware that anything ever came of this. I wonder whether the new owners know about the island? Perhaps I should put in another bid for those dragons’ eggs . . .

(Mark Valentine)

Picture: Map of Buss Island by John Seller (1671).