falklands – Spans, a new life

Down to the Deep South, The first 28 days.

A journey, after all, neither begins in the instant we set out, nor ends when we have reached our doorstep once again. It starts much earlier and is really never over, because the film of memory continues running on inside of us long after we have come to a physical standstill. Indeed, there exist something like a contagion of travel, and the disease is essentially incurable.

Ryszard Kapuscinski 2007

Travels with Herodotus

Above is a quote that I have copied from the official voyage log (which is excellent) produced by the two guides who were part of Europa’s crew. So, bearing this quote in mind and considering that I seem to have been suffering from the incurable disease since my teenage years, this is an effort to reflect on the impressions I take away with me from the latest remission. The first part of my current visitation of the terminal travel bug ended with leaving the Bark Europa in Chile after 28 days sharing the experience with a motely group made up of ‘voyage crew’ and the ‘professional crew’. Having previously introduced you to the ship and the places we visited this is now an attempt to reflect on my fears, expectations, experiences and conclusions.

This trip had been booked long in advance, indeed well before I actually took retirement from paid work. So, tied up with the trepidation of travelling into the unknow of sailing on tall ships into the lowest latitudes of the southern oceans (roaring 40’s, furious 50’s and ultimately screaming 60’s), there was the leap into the unknow final chapter of my life. As it was some time since I had undertaken any form of major trip I’ve had to reaquiant myself with all of the activities required prior to travel. One of the bigger challenges being to find insurance cover for a not so young traveller doing something that’s not quite the norm. But there were also all the run of the mill issues like, what to pack, how to travel to/from start and end points, payment methods in various locations, language challenges etc etc.

Along with these practical consideration there were the subtle mind games that your own psyche plays with you. Can I really do this, am I physically up to it, can I cope being cooped up with a bunch of strangers for 28 days, can I really survive sharing a small cabin with up to 4 others, how’s it going to be not being able to talk to MJ in a regular basis, will I be too hot / too cold, what if I get sick, am I really recovered from recent health challenges etc? Coupled with that there was the whole other level of phycological challenges associated with retirement, I’m no longer a productive member of society, I’ve lost the status / position in society that the job title gave me, I’m becoming a ‘has been’, can I really afford this, what does the future hold etc?

With a bit of time and effort all of the practical challenges were overcome (except, of course, in reality I took far more kit than I really needed).

So what of the mind games, firstly addressing the whole mental challenge of being retired. Well, honestly, this really has not been a major problem. Sure there have been occasions when agents have contacted be with the ‘our client’s are screaming out for people with your profile’ line and, just occasionally, the opportunity looks interesting and I might think maybe one more contract, would nice to be a responsible person again. But then I remind myself that life can be short and that there is no defined end game so I need to make the play when I still can. After close to 50 years in paid work it’s now time to spend some of the ill-gotten gains and live every day as a bonus which should be used to the fullest advantage.

Now, the first month of travelling. After British Airways’ best attempts to spoil the whole experience at the outset I picked up my connection in Buenos Aires and arrived in Montevideo in good time to join Europa. So first stressful step concluded and other than BA’s representative at Heathrow getting a full pram load of toys in their face, no heads ripped off yet 🙂

The quality of Montevideo’s street art will stay with me

First close-up view of the Bark Europa – The Boy’s Own image of a real sailing ship.

Were allowed to drop bags off on Europa in the morning but had to kill the day until 18.00 before boarding and then we sat alongside until the next morning. When all you want to do is get on with it this is rather frustrating but at least it’s a little bit of time to meet other members of voyage crew and to start forming some opinions.

However, firstly a bit about the professional crew, first impressions when dropping of bags, bright, young and cheerful. Later, on formally joining the ship in the evening, this initial impression was reinforced. Apart from the captain, first mate and senior guide they all seemed dreadfully young (policeman syndrome?) and predominately female. The mate was a bit older (mid 30’s+) and the captain (Klaas) a wizened old sea dog who could well have been a buccaneer in an earlier incarnation. The chief guide, Jordi, was a Catalan of indeterminate age. By qualification a marine biologist but seemingly in possession of an encyclopaedic knowledge of marine and terrestrial life forms, sailing, guiding, world travel and rock climbing all of which he seems to have a real passion for. As the trip progressed the initial good impressions were only to be reinforced. The crew proved generally (some more experienced than others) to be highly competent, dedicated, professional, tolerant and invariably cheerful despite having to repeatedly explain how things should be done to members of the voyage crew who did not listen and/or knew better.

Some of permanent crew enjoying a moment of relaxation

The Voyage Crew, my compatriots and fellows in crime. Throughout my life I have been a firm believer in first impressions and, from the very first meetings on the dockside and the first evening after boarding, it was very obvious that there might be one or two individuals that would challenge my tolerance levels and yes, I accept that on occasion my tolerance threshold can be rather low. The group were quite diverse ranging in age from late 20’s early 30’s up to their 70’s and a male / female split of approx. 75% to 25%. Mostly they seemed to be yacht sailors who wanted to experience tall ship sailing or those who had sailed tall ships previously and had been bitten by the bug. A common theme was a thirst for an elevated sense of adventure that this type of trip invoked. There were exception’s, myself, as someone with very limited exposure to sailing but some seafaring experience, a couple of guys who were there more for the marine/terrestrial nature / shore excursions but who did, to a greater or lesser degree, pitch in and help with the sailing, a couple wannabe passenger and one rather narcissistic individual who appeared to be primarily interested in how they could achieve the maximum personal gain from the experience. One thing for which I was thankful was that, of a total feasible complement of 46 voyage crew, we were only 26 up to The Falklands and 27 thereafter. Another God send being my cabin mates, two middle aged Michaels who were coincidently both Swiss (maybe not a nation you would associate with sailing) and a younger Dutch guy, Pier. All three proved to be very acceptable company. The Michaels had both sailed on tall ships before and Pier was a yachtsman so I was definitely the least experienced in the room.

As the trip progressed it became obvious to me that the only way that I was going to be able to complete the trip on equitable terms with certain individuals was to make the effort to avoid them as much as possible and, when this was not possible, to draw on all of my tolerance reserves and thereby maintain a level of civility. Although I am not necessarily proud of the intolerance that I thereby exhibited I believe it preferable to outright hostility and, when sharing my thoughts with others towards the end of the trip, I was relieved to find that my views were far from a minority.

Not surprisingly in a group of this size there were many personality traits exhibited and, as is my norm, I felt happiest when around those who appeared to be very comfortable in their own skins and just got on with it with out making any fuss. This trait was particularly appreciated when it came to the sailing of the vessel. We were all allocated to a watch and whilst that watch was on duty we were expected to lend a hand with the sailing. Also, if off watch but on deck it was appreciated if you were to lend a hand. As I’ve said earlier, within the voyage crew there was a range of ability and different levels of enthusiasm for the sailing meaning that some knew what they were doing or picked it up quickly and quietly got on with it. There were those who weren’t overly enthused by the prospect of hauling on lines and consequently tended to keep out of the way which, as there were normally more than enough willing hands for the task, wasn’t necessarily an issue. And then, finally, there was the group who thought that they knew what they were doing, exhibited a reluctance to listen to the advice given by the professional crew and in reality were frequently more of a hindrance than a help to the smooth sailing of the ship.

All of the above probably sounds rather negative so let’s try to add a positive spin. As I hope I’ve hinted at above, I got on fine with the vast majority of my fellow voyagers and those who listened to what was required and just quietly got on with things definitely earned my respect and admiration irrespective of their skill levels. Equally I consider myself supremely blessed as I never suffered for malade de le mer but I truly admired the spirt of those, who despite feeling rotten, tried their best to ignore this handicap and just get on with what was needed. Despite a certain degree of trepidation at working out on the yard arms (climbing the masts was easy but moving out onto the yards was achieved purely through will power and bloody mindedness) I managed to overcome my fears and decidedly wobbly legs and achieve a limited degree of comfort. The first time I worked at unfurling sails was for the Royal (one from the top) which is not only high up but also a pretty slim yard where the height of the footropes means that the yard sat at my hip level rather than stomach level (at this height you can more easily wrap yourself around the yard) making it feel very precarious. A lesson I took from this was that it would be better to start on the mains or topsails where the yards are more substantial and easier to work on. One of the youngest least experienced members of the permanent crew, Natalie, has my undying gratitude for the encouragement and advice she gave that allowed me to take these first tentative steps towards being, at least, of a little use up aloft.

Us jolly jacks were up aloft, aloft. Yours truly top left

Another positive was the real buzz experienced when we were under maximum sail (for prevailing conditions) running well through heavy seas. This was ‘real sailing’ where you get to appreciate the sympathetic attitude of a sailing vessel to the prevailing seas when compared to a vessel that is motoring. It was unfortunate that, due to the prevailing conditions and the necessity of meeting a schedule, the number of times that we experienced ‘real sailing’ were limited. As much as I loved the wild nature of The Falklands and their wild life I could not help but sympathise with those amongst us who felt that we could have spent less time around the islands and more time sailing i.e. using the wind more on a zig-zag course rather than using the motor to butt through the seas on a more direct course onto the wind to satisfy schedule demands.

But we did sail into some beautiful sunsets

Another positive I take from this was the whole Falkland Island experience. I had joined on a tall ship sailing experience and given little consideration to visiting the islands or indeed, what the islands were like. Probably, like many of my generation, my impressions of The Falklands largely revolves around warfare and yomps through a bleak unforgiving environment. What I experienced dispelled this impression. Granted we were there during the summer so saw them at their best but the locals, who were very open, welcoming and friendly, assured me that they are not too bleak even in the depths of winter. The landscapes were very reminiscent of the highland areas of England, Scotland and Wales which immediately recommended it to me although some might still consider it inhospitable. What may have been one of the endearing features that added tremendously to its appeal were the small working settlements on the various islands. These have been established over many generations and invariably nestle in hollows in the land adjacent to a natural water source and sheltered from the worse of the elements by belts of conifers and gorse (both introduced aliens). They are very welcoming (as are their inhabitants) and homely. I could imagine that I would not be to adverse to life in such a place. Added bonus, not to many people 🙂 This beautiful environment is complemented by the rich variety of flora and fauna, that with little natural fear of man, is very approachable. Although the opportunities were rare it was good from time to time to be able to stop, shut out all else and connect with the wonderful gift that wild places are.

Testament to a farming history and good air quality

So, to sum up what have I learnt from the experience. Well firstly, despite the feeling of becoming less patient, less forgiving and less tolerant of people as I grow older I can still make a reasonable fist of managing when forced into close proximity with a mixed group of people for an extended periods. I still have the physical capability and drive to take on new challenges and thrive through them. The dream of sailing a tall ship has been fulfilled and it fully lived up to expectation especially when we were sailing well through reasonably rough seas. That I am still very much of the opinion that you live and learn and that you can learn from anyone no matter their cultural background, age, or sex. And finally, as James, one of my fellow voyagers responded when I observed the life is good, it sure beats the alternative.

Have to admit after 28 days of help and mentoring from the fantastic crew members there was a bit of a lump in the throat on saying goodbye.

Would I do it again, if time and opportunity allowed almost certainly yes – might need more tolerance pills though 🙂

Down to the Deep South, Last of The Falklands and on to Chile

Clearing formalities at around 09.00 it was time to leave the big smoke and sail for pastures new. From Stanley the plan was to head South down the Eastern side of East Falkland visiting locations on the main island along Bleaker Island and Sea Lion Island. Thereafter, Punta Arenas Chile.

Plans don’t always go to plan. The first scheduled stop was to be Bertha’s Beach but, due to the high seas running, it was deemed not to be feasible to land on the beach so, plan B. Bertha’s Beach is effectively an isthmus of low lying dunes with the beach on the open ocean side and a sheltered harbour behind. Unfortunately the harbour is a Royal Navy base and special permission is required to land there, this was duly sought. Eventually we were given permission to anchor in the relatively sheltered entrance to the harbour and then use our Zodiacs to land on the sheltered back side of the Isthmus, a trip of 30 to 40 minutes each way. As it was already late afternoon it was decided to have an early dinner onboard then go ashore for the evening.

It was actually quite a treat to be onshore on another of the beautiful beaches for sunset. The lighting conditions were wonderful and there were a lot of natural sculptures in the san formed by wind and waves. Very few penguins but some small waders feeding on the edge of the surf, quite a refreshing change from the normal penguin and albatross fests.

More works of art from the supreme master

Heading back to the Zodiacs after a great evening

After re-joining the ship we relocated to a new more secure anchorage where we rode out the night before moving on to Bleaker Island, a low lying island that still supports the owners through farming activities supplemented by the tourist dollar. Another straight forward landing onto a sandy beach where we were met by the owners who gave the guides advice on where best to walk. Doing a loop through an area of Tussock we passed Rockhopper and Rock Cormorant colonies on some low cliffs and then on to a large King Cormorant colony on the gentler slopes.

Penguin egg for dinner – why the Rockhoppers aren’t keen on Skuas

Rock Cormorants and Sheathbill in pleasing geometry

Well I got a picture, don’t think he did

Sheathbills (a scavenger) flying towards King Cormorant colony

After anchoring off Bleaker next morning saw us heading out for Bulls Point on the main East Island. From the beach where we landed a circular walk took in a further beach where Sea Lions were to be seen then on up to the top of some shallow cliffs giving access to Rockhopper and Rock Cormorant colonies. When walking up to the cliff we were hit by a short sharp rainstorm with attendant rainbow and good lighting across the cliffs in its aftermath.

Ashy Headed Goose, hadn’t seen these before

Moulting Sea Lions. These are youngsters undergoing their first moult at around one year

As today was 5th December in the Dutch tradition Christmas gifts are given. To mark this occasion we were to have a Pink Elephant event in the evening. Over the previous couple of weeks we had all been labouring away to produce an anonymous gifts, these gifts were duly wrapped and placed in a sack. Names were drawn and the ‘lucky’ person got to select a gift and open it in front of all. However, when your name was drawn you did not have to take a gift but could elect to steal one that had already been revealed. Any one gift could only be stolen twice so the second thief became the permanent owner. The person who’s gift had been stolen then had the option of selecting a further gift or stealing another but they couldn’t steal back the one that they had just lost. This led to a very entertaining evening and there were some well crafted imaginative gifts to be had.

The plan from here had been to sail to Sea Lion Island which was to be our last port of call in The Falkland Islands. Unfortunately this plan was scuppered by two vagrancies of the weather, firstly it was considered that the sea state was probably to wild to make the landing but, more importantly, if we were to stay around the Falklands for the additional day required for this visit we would be arriving at the entrance to the Straights of Magellan when gale force winds were being forecast, not a good prospect. Accordingly next morning (6th Dec) we would set sail for Chile with the aim of being at a safe anchorage before the storm struck.

For the next 3 days, due to the fact that we were heading more or less directly into the prevailing wind, we were motor sailing with just jib and stay sails set to help stabilise the vessel. The conditions on this leg were predominately rough with snow and rain squalls blowing through and big seas running with us shipping a considerable number of waves leading to several very damp watches. On the 9th we arrived into the Straights early in the morning and proceeded into the passage in fine weather but with increasing stronger winds. Arriving at the anchorage where we were to pick up the pilot the next day we duly dropped both anchors in an attempt to hold position. This ‘sheltered anchorage’ turned out to be anything but sheltered with us taking the full force of the wind and waves resulting in the anchors dragging and having to run the engines a full ahead to hold station and prevent further dragging of the anchors. Fortunately, during the next day the winds moderated and we were able to take the pilot required for straights on board at about 16.00 when we then sailed for Punta Arenas under motor. With the wind and currents now actually with us we ran through the night making up to 12Kn and arrived at the Punta Arenas anchorage at 03.30 0n the 11th where we would remain until we went alongside next morning, effectively the end of the trip. To celebrate or arrival we had a BBQ on deck in the evening with all Permeant and Voyage Crew in attendance.

Thursday 12th saw us move into the town jetty where we cleared Chilean formalities and could then go ashore before coming back on board for our last night on The Europa.

Oil rigs at the entrance to Straights of Magellan

Still carrying a bit of sail into the straights

Giant Petrels had been with us throughout

Paul & Jordi remove the last of the canvas for the last time

Paulina enjoys a last sunset from the anchorage

Rubens (Crew) securing things up on the bowsprit

A man of trade joining as at the Punta Arenas anchorage

So the last of the first episode of my Southern journeys but there will be one more blog on The Bark Europa where I’ll try to sum up my thoughts and feelings about the experience.

Down to the Deep South, Stanley

1 Dec to 3 Dec. Having cleared formalities one of the first priorities for many of us was to get ashore and get online so we could catch up with loved ones back home. Having purchased my internet pass card I found a reasonably comfortable corner in a café above the supermarket where I could tarry over a coffee and indulge in a long chat with Mary-Jo, was good to catch up after 15 days of radio silence.

After completing the social niceties I moved on to the small Falkland Islands museum, which, despite only being small was very informative about the history of the islands from their original discovery by Europeans in the 16th century, colonisation in the 18th century, along with attendant sovereignty disputes, through the strategic importance they held in the late 19th and early 20th centuries up to the current day. There was also a fairly small section on the Falklands war of 1982. The main ‘display’ in this section was a video using archive photographs and films from period but voiced over by islanders who had been children at the time. This film was quite poignant and moving. I understand that there are future plans to move the museum to a much larger site on the outskirts of the town where there will be the space for more comprehensive coverage of the 1982 crisis. This is a bit of a shame as it will probably loose the intimacy of the current facility.

The museum also had sections on the Falklands contribution to the allied cause during WWI &WWII which is an aspect of their history that I was hitherto ignorant of.

Please don’t fire we need that ship. Barrels from guns on HMS Lancaster

Memorial to the Battle of the Falkland Islands 1914

Part of the detail on the WWI memorial. The line-up of dreadnaughts seems a bit opposed to the message below!

Both of the above monuments may be found on the coast road where it runs out to the North of the town. The below memorial, which is the general war memorial is found adjacent to the town cemetery which is also on the coast road but to the South side of town. Behind this cemetery is a memorial wood planted to commemorate those (British and commonwealth subjects) who lost their lives in or in the aftermath of the Falklands War. The memorial contains a tree dedicated to each of the fallen and is a place suited for quietly reflecting on the futility of it all.

As it was soon after Armistice Day there were a series of pebbles painted by local school children running up the steps to the memorial and around its base.

One of the better know features of Stanley if the Whale Bone Arch which is adjacent to the Cathedral (Victorian). This is apparently constructed from the lower jaw bones of Blue Whales but looks rather plasticky. Those who had been here before said it used to be natural but have now been refurbished to their detriment. I was lucky enough to be passing as a rain storm blew through allowing me to catch this framed rainbow.

Even in Stanley itself there is wildlife that has little or no fear of man which is of course one of the aspects that draws so many nature lovers to the location. Below are a small sample.

The end of the small floating pontoon on which we landed from the Zodiacs had been commandeered by Sea Lions

The Falklands Steamer Duck is a flightless duck endemic to the islands.

Another point of interest in Stanley was the Falkland Islands Distillers at Philomel Distillery right on the water front behind tourist information. A gin distillery set up in Mach 2019 by Richard McKee a British expat who had previously been a hobby gin distiller when working as a fisheries protection officer in South Georgia. The main product, Darwin’s Botanicals Gin’ is a corn spirit double distilled with locally foraged botanicals. Unfortunately when I visited there was no Darwin’s available due to a breakdown in the supply chain for the raw corn spirit which is bought in from the UK. However, all was not lost, Richard had diversified and using a locally sourced (Montevideo) cane spirit he has started producing a second gin, again featuring local botanicals, called Dog-Watch and in line with the nautical themed name this gin carries a picture of a sailing ship on the label which is no other than our Europa. I think he did a roaring trade with us as many wanted the bottle with its label as a souvenir. Just meant the hardship of having to consume the gin. Whilst on the subject of alcohol I also note that there is a small brewery in Stanley, Falkland Beerworks, who make some very passable ales.

During the later part of the 29th century and the early years of the 20th Stanley became a place of refuge for old ladies of the sea who, having battled the cape and Drakes Passage, had either been beaten back or had come through but seriously wounded and managed to limp to into Stanley where they were to suffer the further ignominy of being written off as not worthy of repair. Many of these vessels and their cargos were purchased by local businesses and ended up their lives as storage hulks, one of the most famous of which was Brunel’s who arrived her in 1884 and sank in 1937. After languishing underwater for 33 years she was raised, patched-up and towed home to the Bristol dry dock where she had built and where, after major restoration works she now sits as a major tourist attraction. Few of the wrecks have survived till today but one, the Lady Elizabeth, often features in images of Stanley.

Lady Elizabeth still hard aground where she ended up after breaking her moorings in 1936. In Stanley she had served as a coal hulk after being condemned as unseaworthy in 1913 having sustained heavy storm damage when trying to round the cape which was further aggravated by running aground on her way into the port.

A last view along the seafront at the end of the day.

So some final thoughts on Stanley and The Falkland Islands in general. I found the Falklanders that I met to be open, friendly and hospitable people who had a great pride in their islands and their British heritage. This pride in their roots brings us to the thorny issue of The Falklands verses Las Malvinas and the sovereignty wrangles that have been going on for centuries. After the ’82 war a referendum was held in 2013 for the populous to register whether or not they wanted to remain a British territory. 92% of the registered voters voted of which 99.8% voted in favour. So I guess that, if the will of the population is to be respected the islands remain British territory despite any international political shenanigans that may be going on. Surely what the vast majority of the current population desires should take precedence over who may or may not have done what several hundred years ago. This said I noted that there are a large number of new residents in the Falklands who come from all over the world. Many of these may not have the strong ties to ‘the old country’ so thing might change in the future?

One thing is for sure, ’82 was all about cynical games being played by politicians which, as has often been the case in the past, led to the loss of many young lives. What was it all for and was it worth it.

Down to the Deep South, The Falklands IV

Having remained at anchor overnight we were greeted by a glorious morning to sail (virtually no wind so actually motoring) on to our next stop at Carcass Island (nothing to do with cadavers but named after HMS Carcass). Lapping up the serene morning on deck I mentioned to a fellow voyage crew member, James, “its good to be alive”. His response, “sure beats the alternative”. James is an interesting character, a Californian who retired from the IT industry 15 years ago, he spends 8 to 9 months a year travelling. He has probably visited more countries than anyone else I’ve ever met including several (Yemen and Somali for instance) which I’d probably give a very wide berth.

Anyway back to Carcass Island. Carcass is one of the few island which has never been invaded by rats, cats or feral dogs and consequently it has a very healthy population of small land birds some of which are endemic to The Falklands. Anchored off another beautiful beach, Leopard Beach, the Zodiacs were surrounded by playful Commerson’s Dolphins on the run ashore, a cherry on the top of what had so far been a wonderful morning.

The red and white boat was completing hydrographic surveys so we were requested to anchor further out than normal leading to a longer Zodiac trip ashore leading to ,,,,,,,

One that didn’t make it. Skuas, Caracaras and Turkey Vultures make short work of anyone who falls by the wayside

Spot the birdie, one of two species of wren found on the island

Looking for the next meal, Turkey Vulture

After the walk across the island to the settlement we were invited into Carcass Island House, a guest house that welcomes all visitors to join them for tea and cakes, a veritable cakefest was presented to us, far more than we could possibly eat but we struggled manfully to do it justice. The owners of the guesthouse / island still productively farm sheep but balance it with the needs of the natural environment to very good effect. Again, the settlement is nestled in a depression in the land with a sheltering belt of trees (all introduced, there are no trees native to the islands) and the gardens were full of birdsong, idyllic.

On returning to the ship lunch was served on deck (but barely needed after the cakefest) then we sailed (under motor again) for Saunders Island, another privately owned island which is farmed but follows strong conservation ideals. Interestingly Saunders was the home of the original settlement / capital of the island at Port Egmont and during the 18th century was variously claimed by France, Spain and Britain until Britain exerted its sovereignty over the whole island group. Two of the highland areas are connected by a low lying isthmus which is hope to a small colony of King Penguins along with a further colony of Gentoos. Warning, lots more penguins!

Filling any gaps left after the cakefest

Passing by the commoners in the Gentoo colony

Now, who are these strange characters in bear skin coats?

The young Kings are completely different to the parents and are land bound for the first 11 months or so and are totally reliant on the parents for food. During this time they will obtain a greater weight than at any other time of their lives. Indeed, they are so different that early observers assumed them to be a completely different species. Additionally, they breed on a staggered two year cycle so there are frequently all stages of development to be seen within the colony.

And then you have this, when there is a Metamorphosis and the ugly bug transforms into a regal King

This is how it all began, a bit of necking

but the neighbours don’t seem convinced that it should all be so public

Never mind then dear, lets get out of here

As always the Skuas keep a beady eye on things looking for their chance

Guess at sometime this whale was on the ‘all you can eat menu’ (the whale washed up on the beach some years ago and after it had been stripped clean the skeleton was moved up above the high tide line and assembled for display.

Lastly, another little detail, washed up sea weed

So, in conclusion, two islands in one day, both privately owned, both still commercially farmed and both doing their bit for conservation. It was a privilege to have had access to the islands and their unique wild life but, equally, it has been a privilege to meet the custodians who’s families have for years made a living off the land and whilst not farmed it so intensively as to completely destroy these unique places. Thankyou

Down to the Deep South, The Falklands III

Dawn of a new day breaks over a new island, West Point Island. Unlike the previous islands that were owned by conservation trust West Point is still privately owned and, although much of it is managed for conservation there is still some small scale sheep farming. The owner of the island who is now 94 lives in Stanley, he was given the island as a 25 birthday present by his mother. We were welcomed ashore by the farm / island manager who lives at the settlement just above the harbour. The settlement here is tucked into a small hollow and surrounded by introduced trees that act as a wind break, really quite idyllic. As a reminder of the strong ties with the UK tucked away behin the settlement sere several decaying Land Rovers :-).

Little fluffy things welcoming us ashore

Can’t resist a good Land Rover – just need to find one 🙂

After returning to the ship we motored round to a new anchorage at Grave Cove for an easy landing on a shelving white sand beach (anywhere warmer and these beaches would have been completely degraded by holiday developments) to visit the largest Gentoo colony in the Falklands and for a cliff top walk too a small Albatross colony.

Land Rover – found a good one. Although it looks abandoned it apparently belongs to some researchers who had taken the boat out to the big smoke (Stanley 🙂 ) for some R&R.

A proud Gentoo mum. She has a reason to be proud, apparently having two viable chicks is unusual but seemed quite common in this colony – good food supply?

Although classed as a large colony it actually consists of a number of medium sized groups spread over a wide area

Rubens, one of the permanent crew ‘swimming’ with the dolphins. Due to low sea water temperatures dry suits are needed to spend anytime in the water

A walk round the headland, don’t know what these plants are but they formed large cushions loe to the ground

The walk around above the cliffs (to visit another albatross colony) was on steeply sloping ground but with good footing and certainly well within the capability of anyone who has been mountain walking before. Although some of them claimed to be seasoned travellers and trekkers some of the group complained about being exposed to this level of risk. I explained, supported by Maria one of the guides, that they were not obliged to go on and that they should just move out of the way of those of us who were happy to proceed and join with us again on the way back as we had to return by the same route. This had already been explain to them previously. Not sure if my advice was well received 🙂

Down to the Deep South, The Falklands

26th Nov to 6th Dec.

Arrival at New Island in the Falklands was an emotional event for one of the voyage crew, Roger, as he had been here immediately after the Falklands War as air traffic control in the RAF, this was his first time back and, on the outlying islands he was to meet of few of the locals he remembered from those earlier days.

New Island was the first of many landings (don’t panic, we did not visit all 700 islands 🙂 ) we were to make and landings by Zodiac (rigged hulled inflatable), Penguins and Albatrosses were destined to feature heavily over the next 10 days. In the following I will share, by individual posts by Island, some of the pictures and impressions of the locations in which we found ourselves, WARNING – heavy bird content!

At the end of the series I’ll try to leave you with my overall thoughts and impressions on The Falklands, or should it be Malvinas?

New Island:- we made two landings on New Island, one at Coffin’s Harbour next to the settlement and one at Ship Harbour. Both were beach landings (there are some beautiful beaches in The Falklands) in relatively calm sea conditions. We had had a lot of build-up and safety briefings on these beach landings but in the end they were quite smooth and nowhere near as challenging as we might have been led to believe, probably due to the preparation and professionalism of the boat pilots and the two guides who always reccied the landing and then landed first to hold Zodiacs close into the landing.

Landing at Coffin’s Harbour (named after a Nantucket whaling family) adjacent to a wreck and the whaling museum. In the 17th, 18th & early 19th centuries the Falklands were a centre for harvesting of seals and penguins for their fat (blubber) and New Island also had a short lived whaling station but, as the whales were far more numerous further south this was soon closed down in favour of South Georgia. A visit to the small museum was interesting but also quite sobering when you consider the impact the industry had on the populations of seals, whales and penguins some of which have never recovered to their previous levels and, due to mans impact on the environment of the Antarctic fisheries (including krill) and global warming, are unlikely to do so. The museum was opened for us by a South African lady who, along with her ‘Cornish Man’ partner, is a custodian of the island employed by the conservation trust that owns it. I managed to have a chat with the custodian and asked how it was living in what I assumed would be a pretty desolate location in the winter with little contact with the outside world. Her amused response was that the isolation, beauty and abundance of nature were the major draw – yeh, think I could survive here too. Interestingly, they live a semi-subsistence lifestyle with a small vegetable patch (under a poly tunnel) and harvesting resource from on and around the island. Theirs’s was probably the most exposed settlement on any of the islands.

From the museum we walked across the neck to visit colonies of Black Browed Albatross, Rockhopper Penguins and King Cormorants.

The settlement – inviting? and this is summer.

Lrbbj – Little red breasted brown job – actually Long Tailed Meadow Lark

Fence post remnant of former farming activity (mainly sheep) with ample lichen indicative of the very good air quality.

Old blue eyes – these birds also have brilliant sheen to their plumage

Falkland Skua – the Hyena of the seabird colonies

Road to the settlement, gorse is an invasive alien introduced from Europe but adds a nice splash of colour.

Wreck with Europa in the background. The wreck is apparently that of a sealing vessel beached in 1969

And finally, a natural artwork. Do you see the penguin

New Island stage II, landing at the ship harbour and walking around North Bluff. Terrain here was wilder and home to two different species of penguin, Gentoo and Magellanic. As the Magellanics nest in burrows care has to be taken when navigating their colonies to avoid unplanned below ground excursions.

Landing by Zodiac, guides Jordi and Maria holding boat in position as voyage crew member Michael steps ashore.

Striated Caracara – carrion recycling facility

North Bluff scenery – small freshwater lake and sea beach beyond

Magellanic penguins at entrance to their burrow

Gentoos also like a day out on the beach but…….

and sometimes run. Skuas are hoping for crumbs

These guys remind me of Wildebeest at the Mara river, no one volunteering to go first

Some spectators – members of crew and voyage crew

Being buzzed by an Albatross – Paul, Piet and Monique

More of nature’s art work, this time sculpture – pterodactyl?

Take only pictures leave only footprints

So, first impressions gained from first island – stunning scenery, approachable unique wildlife and friendly locals. Certainly a wonderful place to visit, could I live here. Probably could have done when I was younger.