Postcard from ... Piel Island, Cumbria

Piel Island, which has its own king

I’ve come to see a man about a knighthood. It’s too late for the Queen’s birthday honours but I’m still hopeful. Huddled into a tiny red ferry, I’m sailing away from the South Lakes mainland into the dark swells of Morecambe Bay. My destination? Piel Island, a 52-acre stretch of shingle beach and wildflower scrubland, topped by a ruined 14th-century castle managed by English Heritage.

I’m here to find Steve Chattaway, the current “king” of Piel Island and the man invested with historic powers to appoint the Knights of Piel. His rural fiefdom shows no signs of regal pomp and ceremony as I approach. The remote island community, formerly a retreat for the monks of Furness Abbey and once a hotbed of smuggling, is a designated Site of Special Scientific Interest. As I approach, the only vital signs are a community of wading birds and a couple of fishermen catching sundowners, rather than mullet, off the seaweed-slime pier.

The landlord of the 17th-century Ship Inn, complete with its smart new B&B accommodation and adjoining campsite, is traditionally crowned king of Piel Island. The tradition refers to an episode in 1487 when Lambert Simnel landed on the island, claiming to be earl of Warwick and, therefore, the rightful king of England. Simnel’s mercenary army subsequently marched on to London, only to be defeated by Henry VII at the Battle of Stoke. His attempt on the throne has been parodied ever since by crowning the pub’s landlord.

Today, the crowning of the new monarch is still performed in the original chair, hollowed out from an old oak tree. The ceremony features the use of an ancient crown and sword stored above the bar at the Ship Inn, and a thorough dousing in beer. Chattaway was crowned in 2008, beating 350 other candidates to the job of landlord after a lengthy recruitment process. “It’s the ultimate honour,” he says. “It’s amazing to think my family name will be in the history books.”

I join him for his daily constitutional, a brisk stroll through the castle ruins, along the foreshore and past six weathered-stone cottages kept as holiday homes by local families. “The closeness to nature gets under your skin,” says Chattaway, looking out for oystercatcher eggs on the beach. “When it blows a gale here, it’s fantastic. So cleansing.”

But my hopes of a knighthood are fading. The knights are, I learn, a select club, with only some 30 knights and baronesses appointed over the past 50 years. The recipients have given selfless service to the island, from rescuing fishermen to preserving the environment. The honour entitles them, when shipwrecked off Piel, to a night’s free lodging plus all they can eat and drink.

Nina McMullen, an accounts manager from Barrow-in-Furness, became a baroness in May. She visits Piel every weekend and helped with the pub’s four-year refurbishment on an unpaid basis. “You keep coming back until eventually you become part of the family,” she says.

After a fresh seafood dinner, I head off to Hawes Point, overlooking the nature reserve at Walney Island, with its grey seals. Only the calls of owls and terns accompany the dusk and finally I understand the lure of Piel: the island demands devotion but rewards richly those who return.

Next morning, I am allowed to try out the throne for size – after a contribution to the local lifeboat fund. As I settle into the historic seat of Cumbrian royalty, I may not yet be a knight of the realm but I do feel like a king for a day.

For details, see www.pielisland.co.uk and www.golakes.co.uk. The Ship Inn is open year-round but ferry services from the mainland are reduced from October to April