The Falkland Islands

7th to 12th November

Having been through the Falklands before I was keen to explore some new parts, specifically some of the hills to the west of Stanley. Saturday was clear and sunny so the ship's doctor and I headed that way, through the town and all the way to the end of the inlet upon which the harbour and town is based. That in itself took about an hour and a half. Striking off across the moorland which makes up the majority of the island terrain we headed in a fairly straight line for the top of Mount Tumbledown. The exposed rock, reaching out of the grass at the top, belies a series of ridges running across the northern part of east Falkland. 

Views from the top of Mt Tumbledown.

Scrambling though this we got spectacular views back down to the ship and west across the rest of the island. As we sat and ate our lunch we were approached by a confident turkey vulture watching us with interest.

Turkey vulture in the foreground, cloud rolling over Stanley in the background.

Further along we came to a memorial to those killed on the mountain in the 1982 war. While we were enjoying scrambling round in shorts and t-shirt on a sunny day, with minimal kit and provisions, it was difficult to imagine it any different. Yet it was impossible not to try and imagine being up there cold and wet, sleep-deprived, desperate and under fire. Whatever your thoughts on the conflict itself, the horrors those on Mt Tumbledown and the surrounding peaks endured is quite a thing and should not be forgotten.

The memorial cross on Mt Tumbledown.

As we arrived back at the ship a few hours later we met the rest of the station staff and marine scientists who had travelled down on the long, long flight via Chile. Understandably everyone was in need of a good shower and long sleep, but that didn't prevent us exploring and enjoying the rest of our time around Stanley.

I managed to paddle in the sea at surf bay and two trips round to gypsy cove, seeing a total of five Magellanic penguins and a few Peale's dolphins as well as the smaller Falkland songbirds. One of those trips was called short due to heavy rain while the second needed a quick March to get back to the ship just two minutes before shore leave was cancelled. 

An informative sign at Surf Bay.

I managed more paddling in the sea at berthas beach while the ship was refueling. Commerson’s dolphins were surfing back and forth along breaking waves, their little black and white bodies showing up in the clear blue waters.

Dramatic clouds over Bertha's Beach.

Further along the beach a small colony of Gentoo penguins walked up the sandy beach and through a grassy field, dodging sheep to get to their nests. The combination of penguins and sheep is an amusing and confusing sight.

Gentoo penguins amongst the sheep.

Before our proper departure we had to return once again to Stanley to pick up a replacement crew member, covering for illness, before we could properly set off south on Thursday evening.

Off to sea!

Waving goodbye to Stanley and the Falkland Islands,

Jerry

Traveling South

4th to 6th November

We're on our way south. Three years ago, when first starting with the British Antarctic survey, it was only once I was actually on the ship and leaving the Falkland Islands that I felt it was really going to happen. Until that point it all felt a bit like a dream or a mistake. This time it's equally exciting though feels a lot more familiar, like returning home.

Our epic journey started on Wednesday with an immediate hold-up. Severe weather in the Falklands meant our flight got delayed by nine hours so we were put up in the basic hotel at Brize Norton for the night, rising by five the next morning for an early check in. I'd travelled down from Cambridge with another ten, mostly bound for the science cruise that the ship will undertake around dropping summer staff on the islands (or we'll get dropped off around the science cruise, relative importance of each depends on who you are talking to). Between us we had a huge amount of extra luggage; massive bags and boxes full of personal gear and science equipment that hadn't been ready to put on board when the ship left the UK in September. With all the extras I'd accepted I checked in my own body weight in luggage.

The journey down to the Falkland Islands is two nine-hour flights with a short stop off at Ascension Island to refuel. This is the first time I've been through Ascension when it's not been dark or foggy and even though we were not allowed to leave the departure area, 'the cage', I could enjoy the strange views over the bleak lowlands and artificial cloud forest higher up.

The view from the cage out at Ascension Island.

It was midnight by the time we arrived in the Falklands and three by the time we'd retrieved our mountain of luggage, loaded it onto the minibus and got to our B&Bs in Stanley. That night in a comfy bed was luxury.

The next day we moved onto the ship, the RRS James Clark Ross. With a crew change as well as us arriving it was a hive of activity. Luckily I had no duties so wandered into town to enjoy an ice cream in the sun.

A military band playing under the whalebone arch in Stanley.

Jerry

The return journey, part two.

The Shackleton pulled into Stanley on the Falkland Islands and as soon as we were allowed we headed ashore and into town.

Harsh weather on the FIPASS as we arrived. We headed out but got driven back by the wind and rain before reaching the adjacent HMS Clyde.

I'm thankful we weren't dropped anywhere busier as our first taste of civilisation as Jess, Cian and I were a little bemused and cautious; when crossing roads we waited patiently for approaching vehicles however slow and far away they were. Entering the supermarket we were thrown by a cat running in past us and then the vast array of goods on the shelves. I had to remind myself that unlike the Bird Island stores you can't just take something off the shelf, sample it and then walk off with in in a pocket.

Is this normal supermarket goods now? No longer hundreds and thousands but billions and trillions?

That evening us six returning islanders went for a fancy meal, a celebration of being back on dry land. The next evening we joined the ship's crew and rat team in a busy pub. Being in a crowded, loud environment didn't seem as alien as I thought it might. I thought back to first call at the beginning of December when I'd had a mild panic attack after coming into our lounge and finding it full of people. I think the difference was that was after nine months of just four of us in that place.

Soon enough our wintering team had to be split further as Cian remained in Stanley while Jess and I (plus Adam and Mick) headed off to Darwin. Cian's off travelling in South America (volcanoes permitting) and saying goodbye to him wasn't actually as hard as others. I guess we were all tired of emotional farewells and I'm sure we'll see him again in a few months.

Accommodation in Stanley was full so we'd been sent off to the tiny, remote settlement of Darwin. Our initial misgivings were abated when we saw the plush place we would be staying and by the time we'd had a cup of tea and seen a tame steamer duck waddle through the lounge we were completely sold on the place. We've always eaten exceedingly well on Bird Island and the chefs on the ship do an amazing job, but the food at Darwin House was outrageously good. The hospitality of the couple running the place was superb and we spent a thoroughly relaxing couple of days there.

Shags hanging around, making use of the odd shipwreck.

Darwin House, what a setting.

Exploring the surroundings.

As we had no real agenda we spent our time reading in the conservatory and going for short walks, caracaras, red-backed hawks and Commerson's dolphins were all seen within a few hundred meters of the house. Deciding I needed to exercise off some of the food I ran down past Goose Green and onward along the heavily rutted fields that count for roads this far out of the way. I finally reached what is said to be the worlds most southerly suspension bridge (clearly no one has actually checked) across Bodie Creek. The planks across were looking a bit worse for wear and the sign on the gate had worn away enough to make it unclear whether it was safe for vehicles and pedestrians or very unsafe. It was only when getting back and checking that I found it had been closed in 1997 and access was prohibited.

Bodie Creek bridge, worth the run.

Goose Green residents amazed at seeing a person.

Following a long, long flight I arrived back in the UK to be met by my parents as said my last goodbyes to the rest of the team. By the afternoon we were back in the Lake District, out walking in the sun, smelling the lovely gorse, observing the lambs and watching and listening out for small, elusive British wildlife.

Back in the UK.

24 hours later I'd met back up with Jess and we were heading off for our next seabird-related jobs, but that's for another blog post...

The Return South

26th January - on the Shackleton, about 500 miles west of the Falklands.

After a nice few weeks at home catching up with friends and family it was good to be heading south again, even if that journey would take a long week.

A long flight down to Chile, best part of a day hanging around Santiago airport then on to the Falklands. I had a few days there so was able to get out for a few walks and see a bit of wildlife in the bays and coves around Stanley then nearer Mare Harbour as we stopped to fuel.

Falklands Night Heron. Great views of a few of these near where the ship was docked in Stanley.

Magellanic Penguin with it's chick peeking out of a burrow, Gypsy Cove.

Southern Sea Lions sleeping on a jetty in the middle of Stanley, near the tourist information.

Bertha's Beach, near Mare Harbour. An excellent spot for a few hours walk and a last paddle in the sea before heading further south.

Gentoos enjoying the sand, unaware that their relatives on Bird Island have more mud than they know what to do with.

So far the seas have been calm and the ship has sped along it's way. I've been feeling great - managed every meal and been fit enough to help out with the ship's cleaning rota.

Black-browed Albatross. I spotted the first one 45 minutes after we left Stanley and it felt like the first welcome back home.

Next stop, Bird Island.

Back home (via a few more penguins)

14^th December

It's grey and wet outside so I'm sat in drinking mug after mug of tea. It's almost like being back on Bird Island. No, I can't fool myself. I'm finally back home after over two weeks of travel.

My final day in Stanley was terrific. After a morning stroll into town the weather cleared up and I headed out for a walk toward Gypsy Cove. As I headed toward the coast it got warmer and sunnier, until I was more worried about getting burnt than rained on.

The Lady Elizabeth, still fairly intact but kinda rusty.

Heading round past a variety of wrecks, some historic some not so much, I crossed over a headland and saw the vast expanses of white sand. Delightful as it looks though it's all out of bounds. Although it has been cleared of mines there remains a danger that those on the beach could have been washed out and could return at any time. The little bay at Gypsy Cove looked beautiful, with pristine beach and amazing sea, but I was quite happy with the lack of access as it enabled a group of Magellanic Penguins to relax their undisturbed.

The stunning Gypsy Cove.

Yeah, I probably won't be going to play in the dunes then.

Magellanic Penguins enjoying the sun.

With the large penguin group resting on the sand and several joining a few Gentoos in the shallows, there were still a few up near the path heading for their burrows where they will be incubating eggs out of the glare of the sun. For a long time I was the only human there and as I sat and ate my lunch of a fresh apple and some salad (still enjoying the novelty of crunchy green rather than soggy brown lettuce) I thought about the differences between these penguins and the ones I've been studying.

Unlike the Gentoos and Macaronis I'm studying, the Magellanics nest in burrows.

Enjoying the shade of a burrow. I don't normally photograph birds like this (I've seen far too many photographers shoving lenses down the burrows of stressed puffins) but this one, taken with a long lens, was sat there for ages seemingly enjoying being out of the hot sun.

Although fairly calm today, these ones had had to learn to deal with people and many more dangerous land predators while the BI ones have the odd skua or geep to fear. They duck nervously down their burrows while those in my study areas have to barge their way into the colony past a crowd of snapping beaks.

Snipe hiding in the grass.

Two-banded Plover.

Heading back I felt happy that I'd seen a few beaches and a few birds and I was looking forward to being back home. Before that though I had a whole day of flying to get through – a 5.30am start then a seven hour followed by a nine hour flight. This was broken up by an hour in 'the cage' at Ascension Island. That was great though – over 20C at night, sitting out in t-shirt and shorts, eating an ice cream in the dark. I was tempted to try and leg it off into the night and try and stay there awhile.

Eventually we got back to the UK. Under-slept and over-full of cheese toasties I was met by my parents and driven home for a cup of tea in the grey and wet north west. It's nice to be back and I'm trying not to think of all the excitement I'm missing on Bird Island.

This is something I've not had on Bird Island - crunchy, fresh veg and bursting cherry tomatoes.

Jerry.

Falkland Sun

12^th December

I'm on the Falkland Islands now, we arrived here three days ago following a four day crossing from South Georgia. There were some rough seas – being woken up as I was thrown across the bed, walking down the corridor feeling like that fight scene in Inception – but I survived and even managed to make it to most of the meals.

We fly tomorrow morning so have had a few days to relax and manage a bit of exploring. There's about half a dozen of us here, some with office work to do while others, like me, content to wander around enjoying the sun, birdsong and vegetation that I've not seen in a year. Stanley isn't the most obviously spectacular place for plant life but just seeing and smelling the gorse in full bloom has been most welcome.

One of the ever-present Turkey Vultures soaring over Stanley.

A vulture making a meal of a goose, probably.

I took a wander up to the museum which has an interesting diversity of displays, at one point you can turn right to see specimens of the native fauna or left to see a range of guns used in the conflict. After that I browsed a few shops, picking up a few treats I've missed (milkshake).

The lighthouse at Cape Pembroke.

We managed to borrow a land rover (there's no other type of vehicle here) and headed out to Surf Bay then walked along to Cape Pembroke lighthouse. Although there were no dolphins or sea lions around it was a very nice walk with some smaller birds of interest to me, singing and flitting between low bushes.

Rufous-chested Dotterel. 

A Grass Wren that was singing in (and maybe about) the long grass.

It was a lovely, clear day with the sun out, although it was only when we climbed the lighthouse we realised how windy it was. By the time we got back to Surf Bay there were a lot more white-topped waves crashing onto the white sand.

Surf Bay looking amazing.

I couldn't resist the chance to get my shoes off and walk bare-foot through it, remembering the joys of getting freezing numb feet by the time the water gets above your ankles. That and being able to go for a walk in shorts for only the second time this year have been the highlights of my stay. That was when I really started to feel like I was on holiday.

It felt a little early in my real worl rehabilitation to visit a fancy restaurant but, along with others from the BAS and government offices and we had an excellent meal at the Malvinas Hotel. I usually feel a bit out of place in such venues but here I was able to reduce the impact of my awful hairstyle by sitting beside Ernie, whose long beard was plaited the previous night by a Pharos crew member.