Steeple Jason 4 – 6 April

A huge privilege: for 2 nights we were able to visit Steeple Jason, the most north westerly and one of the more remote of all the Falkland Islands, a wildlife sanctuary owned by the Wildlife Conservation Society.  What’s more, we had the whole island to ourselves, if we were to ignore (which is quite hard) the countless thousands of Black-browed Albatross and Giant Southern Petrels, amongst many other birds and animals, which normally live here.

First impressions on arrival were created by the 30 – 40 adolescent Striated Caracaras which were set on greeting us. These ‘Johnny Rooks’ are incredibly inquisitive and very playful, wanting to investigate anything new – including us!  Once one got used to the fact that at least 15 birds of prey were intent on flying within 2 feet of one’s head, it was an ‘interesting’ experience to walk anywhere – almost like taking a troupe of pets for a walk.  Bill even got a number of them flying off with the end of his walking stick – if it had not been attached to him, it would have certainly been stolen; they are the real ‘magpies’ of the South Atlantic.

Having been shown the ropes by Rob and left to our devices by everyone, we walked out to the Albatross colony on the NW point.  I believe that it is home to some 170,000 breeding pairs, but even though most of the adults had left there were still thousands of fledglings sat on their nests flexing their wings.  One could tell when a gust of wind was coming as a wave of flapping wings rippled across the colony as the chicks made the most of the natural assistance to their physical exercise; so strong was the wind that the few adults present only had to run a few feet to achieve the lift needed for these supreme gliders to get airborne: it was almost surprising that none of the chicks learned to fly ‘by accident’.   As we had seen in February, there are many Rockhopper Penguins mixed in with the Albatross; many of them looking decidedly scruffy as they go through their moult. 

As the squalls came through, we sought refuge in the tussac grass, getting a real appreciation of the shelter it provides to so many different animals as we kept out of the worst of the wintery showers before fleeing to the comfort of the house – an extremely well appointed building with fantastic views over the local Gentoo colony and of the antics of the penguins getting in and out of the water, almost in the same manner as their Rockhopper cousins.

Thursday started bright and sunny but soon gave way to wintery squalls again, nevertheless we were able to dodge the spots and creep up on some of the gentoos who had sensibly established their colonies in the midst of the tussac grass.  Despite almost being blown off the rocks by the wind we also espied a family of fur seals fishing in the kelp.  A trip to the island’s neck took us to even more Gentoos – with one of the colonies being sensibly being half-way up the steep slopes to get the most shelter out of the wind and weather but yet more hundreds of them progressing in & out of the sea.  Even more thrillingly we were also able to see a mother and young fur seal at very close quarters as they basked in the sun (it was shining at this point!).  Further on we thought we had come across another penguin colony but closer inspection revealed it to be 1,000s of Giant Southern Petrels (I guess the fact that there were so many birds in the air should have given the game away sooner!)  Seeing some of their fluffy and moulting chicks at fairly close quarters was a true treat as these are usually easily disturbed, as was sitting in the middle of the colony’s runway as the Petrels flew around our heads - not that the birds needed much effort to achieve lift to glide supremely easily around the area, given the rising South Westerly wind.  The wind, however, was the harbinger of a storm coming out of the south (which, of course, here means a pretty chilly place) hastening us back to the house just as the elements let loose.  Sixteen hours or more of very rough weather followed with the house seemingly wanting to take off as gusts of over 70 mph buffeted us all night - and this is probably significantly underestimating what was the worst weather for some considerable time according in to the locals!  What an occasion to choose to abandon oneself on a remote lump of rock!!  The scale of the storm was evident as we flew home on Friday, seeing the size of the waves attacking the exposed shores and, tellingly, a number of the offshore international fishing boats sheltering in the lee of Grand Jason. 

In all, a hugely thrilling and very privileged opportunity to stay privately in one of this region’s wildlife and scenic jewels. 

Escape to the West again. March 26- 30. Port Stephens, Roy Cove, Port Howard

Our holiday started a day late as we had been stranded on New island and had consequently arrived home too late to catch the Sunday ferry…so it was 6.30 Monday morning when new set off for the ferry to the West.
Usually, we manage the journey from MPC to the coast in an hour, but we had borrowed a truck from camp, and all hire cars have a 40 mile per hour limiter fitted for safety (bad roads, and too many fatalities in the past), so we very nearly missed our time slot – but the ferry waited and we were on our way.
First stop Port Stephens – the most southerly settlement – a beautiful spot, with a strange rock formation called Indian village. We walked around the peninsular to the gentoo colony, and arrived late in the afternoon. This is the time when penguins return to land after a day’s fishing, and rafts and rafts of birds were bouncing from the waves; leaping, tumbling, flippers a flap. The colony was on the neck of the peninsular, and the wind was howling through; the waves were crashing, spray flying, and the power of the water even seemed to challenge the penguins. Many were flattened, swept back out to sea, fell backwards; none seemed to bother – on the contrary, they seemed happy to go back for more.
We sat with Peter and Ann Robertson, whose cosy cottage we were renting, and heard stories of when the settlement had 10 times its current half dozen inhabitants. And of life before the roads were built; ferries would call every 6 weeks up until 5 years ago, and life was easier; now everyone is expected to use the road, and with a 7 hour drive to Stanley, with a 1-2 hour ferry trip on top, deliveries are not easy. Most people have left, and the Robertsons, father and son, continue to run the sheep farm. Shields from many naval ships line their walls – the old days of the 80s and 90s when there were more military out and about, and many islanders were generous in their hospitality. The generosity and warm welcome continues; in our cottage was left fresh milk (oh luxury – a break from the dreaded UHT!), new potatoes fresh from the ground, eggs form the run and tomatoes -the end of the season. Treasures indeed !
We headed off next morning, after a walk up to Great Hawksnest, where perhaps unsurprisingly, we climbed up to, and sat in the hawk’s nest. Huge great pile of sticks high up in the rock face -fortunately the hawks have fledged – otherwise we could have been in trouble!

We set off for our next location, but stopped at South Harbour to have a cup of tea (and chocolate cake yum) with Brian and Ceri Jamieson who have chosen to live here on a small holding with their pack of lurchers. Brian is a computer whizz and can work anywhere. Ceri is chickenmeister, and sent us on our way with 2 dozen eggs (for the promise of a black pudding in exchange when we next meet). Hoorah. We had a fabulous walk with them around their beaches with all our dogs galloping free. A red letter day for Archie and Finn who rarely have such an opportunity on a conservation island. They slept well that night.
Leaving late, we arrived at Roy cove, three hours’ drive away, at twilight, to find that Danny and Joy had been out looking for us along the road.. Islanders look after each other and are generous with time and thought – no AA here, and no local garage if you have broken down (and no mobile signal if there was one!).
Roy Cove is a stunning place – at Crooked Inlet in the north west of the West. The settlement is another which has shrunk form a thriving farm 30 years ago, to just the Donnellys now. They are surrounded by empty houses. But their farm appears to thrive – cattle and sheep, and a self catering cottage to rival many. Cosy and well appointed, the view from the living room heads straight down the inlet, where dolphins curve, and whales can be seen at this time of year.
Joy had left us potatoes and carrotts, and lettuce and spring onions from the greenhouse. A feast ! A wonderfully peaceful night, and in the morning, Danny took us to his fishing spot ; a fabulous, shelterd and pretty spot, with pools and curves which produced a fish for Phoebe instantly. We were not so lucky after that – but we had a fun few hours, and ate well that evening; a supper of delicious fresh trout.
A second peaceful night, and the next day Bill had to head back to work, so the heli picked him up from the cottage, and Phoebe and I and the dogs set off on the drive to Port Howard across the island. We spent a happy couple of hours travelling across the beautiful green rolling countryside of the West, stopping for a picnic lunch beside a winding stream, and arriving mid afternoon at Port Howard. We were staying at Critta’s self catering cottage , and only had to wander in the settlement for two minutes before we were spotted and looked after. Critta arrived soon after, surrounded by his working dogs. I think Phoebe counted 9. Just a little bit better trained than Archie and Finn..
Bill flew back to join us for the evening, and the next morning we had an hour or so spare for fishing before the ferry. We caught a couple (well Phoebe is actually the success story of this holiday) and trailed onto the ferry last again, to enjoy the most perfect crossing; no wind, blue skies, mirror-like water, dolphins alongside, whales spouting around us. A picnic on deck; a magical end to a few days’ escape.

New Island Friday 23rd March-Sunday 25th March

After arriving into the Falklands for Easter holidays in the rain at four in the morning on the plane, we set off at lunchtime on a helicopter to New Island on West Falkland. When we landed, we were followed to the house we were staying at by a group of Caracaras, a very inquisitive bird of prey. The house we were staying in overlooked a beautiful bay where you could see the dolphins playing in the evening, and for this reason, and because we don’t know the name of the bay, we have named the bay ‘Dolphin Inlet’.
When we had unpacked we walked to the Rookery where we saw lots of Rockhopper penguins in a sea of Black Browed Albatross. The adult Albatross had already left, but the young were still there and were testing their wings by sitting in their nests and flapping flapping flapping! After this we went for a walk around the island and found millions (!) of rabbits, and a small bay at the back of the settlement which harboured a wrecked ship which used to be an old minesweeper. At the back of the bay there was a stone house, which was called the ‘Barnard Building Museum’, named after a sea captain who was stranded on the island over 150 years ago.
The next day, Georgina and Jason (who live on the island) drove us up to the north end of the island. We stopped where the road got too muddy and we walked the rest of the way. We found a Gentoo colony on a beautiful beach surrounded by ‘Snowy Sheathbills’ (a white seabird- which is usually seen standing on one leg!). We then walked up the ridge above the beach and looked down on the sea. We watched the penguins jumping in the waves for a while, and then noticed some seals/sea lions (one looked like a sea lion, but the others looked like seals) in the water as well. We decided that they must have been fishing as the penguins were swimming very close to them, and neither seemed at all bothered. Then we walked back to the other side of the island, and had our picnic in the shelter of a small shed(or rather shared it with the Caracaras). The helicopter was meant to be fetching us soon, so we phoned Heliops to ask when they were coming. To our surprise, they told us that the weather in MPC was too bad to fly anywhere, so they would pick us up the following day. We were very confused because the weather where we were was sunny and bright! It also meant that we had an extra day on the island to explore!
That night, because we had to stay unexpectedly, Georgina and Jason asked us for tea at their house. We had mussels off the beach, and quiche which Georgina had made. She also had made some 'no-knead bread' which, as its name suggests, didn't need kneading (!) and had a bit of treacle in to make it a bit sweet. It was delicious. That evening, we also met their two kittens (Gingernut and Diesel) who were very sweet!
The next day, we wandered about the island, played games, and Mummy and I drew pictures of the wildlife.
In the afternoon, the helicopter came to collect us, and we flew back to MPC.
Overall, New Island is teeming with wildlife and when we were there, had amazingly good weather. We will be back!
By Phoebe x

Camp Sports

So this, we realise, is how the islanders found partners in years gone by; the annual knees up. Every year, a week long event - one on East Falkland (Goose Green this year), one on the West (Hill Cove), after sheep shearing has pretty much finished; an opportunity to meet, drink, chat, drink, compete at various skills/games..and drink. Hoorah!
Firstly we attended day one (keep safe) on the East. This is horse racing at Goose Green. Plenty of horses, and they looked good to me . My ability to tell one horse from another is based on its height, tack, and how pretty it is. Alarming then, that we were asked to judge 'best turned out horse'. We tried.
A good day of racing, but the betting was not as serious as Boxing Day at Stanley, and we did not replicate our Christmas wins. Frank was unimpressed.
Secondly, over to the West (Frank and I drove, Bill flew in (busy apparently....mm). We joined day one  - sheep shearing, and as HMS Clyde was moored off Hill Cove, the boys and girls came ashore and joined in. A fair amount of gore it has to be said, but Joe was a natural, and won the novices - pride for Clyde!
Day two was more quirky; peat cutting, followed by bike agility, truck pulling, and darts. All key Falkland skills.
Did you know that peat cutting is to a depth of around 1.5m? Hard work and very competitive. Even the ship's chaplain joined in today. Very muddy and slippy. Frank had a good go at bike agility (borrowed bike, up against men who have ridden over these moors all their lives. He did us proud). Truck pulling was fabulous; the girls team sseemed to involve men pushing the truck from behind, the stronger men's teams involved a lot of secret pulling... Two teams from Clyde, but there was one team of farmers who were clearly not going to be beaten. We went off to Clyde for dinner  (wearing candid camera immersion suits in the zodiac boats - thank you; not a fashion statement I wish to repeat) and found the crew practising hard for the evening's darts. They won 2nd and 3rd.
We stayed over on Clyde and escaped the next day, leaving the crew to do their best at the dog trials...
   

Ascension island - half term

Back to the UK and then collect Phoebe to come straight back to meet Bill at Ascension. Our idea was to watch turtles laying eggs and to maybe see baby turtles heading for the sea. Green turtles are HUGE - about 1m across. This is the time of year when the green turtles swim the 3000 miles from Brazil, which takes three weeks – and then haul up on the beaches, dig a huge burrow, and lay hundreds of shiny white ping pong size eggs. They then carry out an amazing camouflage operation, to try to head off the frigate birds which dig for food. 30 days later the turtles all hatch at once and dig their way out of the burrow in unison; they are not able to escape alone, and are all incredibly triggered by dropping temperatures at the end of the 30^th day, emerging at night, to take advantage of darkness to cover their run to the sea.
In fact, we did far more than watch turtles; we swam, snorkelled, went sea fishing (caught a tuna, a dorado and two amberjacks), did some mosaicing, walked up green mountain (planted by Kew in the 1920s to produce a dewpond to produce water for the dry island), and we sat in the sun. Ascension is around 28’ all year round, and the sun is strong. BBQ is the thing, fish is the food, and outisde is the place to live. A complete change and a wonderful break, although Bill ended up working most of the time, and we had a bizarre breakfast party at 5am when some generals arrived on the airbridge…
　

Feb 5th. Steeple Jason - Oh wow !

After the exercise on the base, Rob McGill had agreed to escort  a group of us - around 25 in total - to Steeple Jason for the day. This is a huge privilege - it is a two hour heli flight, and the helis stay with us for the day - it is too far to travel back. We were pleased that the pilots would actually get to visit their port of call, and it was good to have the opportunity to chat.
Steeple Jason is the furthest west of the westerly islands - fabulous rocks pointing in ridges skywards, and massive tussoc around its fringes. The american conservation association built a lodge a few years ago, primarily for scientists to use, and we flew over colonies of gentoos, and through swirls of giant peterls, soaring and fishing, and landed beside the lodge.The island is uninhabited; we were the only visitors.

From there, magellanics and gentoos could be seen; gentoos were climbing gingerly across the rocks, sliding and jumping into the sea, trying to time their leap with the rise of the waves. Usually seen walking slowly from beach to sea, leaping into the water looked at the very least unusual!!

Rob led us through the biggest tussoc we have yet encountered; the children disappeared completely, and we all found ourselves in underground grass tunnels at some point. When we reached the sea, the colony of albatross opened up in front of us; miles (about 3 miles long) of albatross, a nest every metre, one grey fluffy chick sitting atop each mud castle, parents parading around, fetching food, protecting. Albatross are the purest white, the softest feathered birds, serene and unafraid. Magical birds. Elegant and majestic when they soar above you; never seeming to take a wingbeat.
Their wings are however vast, and the process of taking off is perhaps not their finest hour. A bit Charlie Chaplin actually. Where we have seen albatross  before, they have chosen to nest on hillsides and cliffs; places which afford a little lift (I am no physics master, but once you have seen that wingspan, you appreciate the need for a little help). On Steeple Jason, the largest colony in the world (estimated at 170,000 breeding pairs), they have inexplicably chosen to live on a flat plain. To counter this, they have established 'runways' (a few gently sloping sites at the edges of the colony). For take off, they plod (slap slap slap go the big grey feet) up the hill, turn, and run like h**l. It is not elegant, majestic or serene, and as they don't have a queueing system, it often ends in emergency braking. It is fabulous and funny to watch. The babies sit happily, grey fluff with big black beaks, which knock in a drum beat at you if you walk too close. They are just starting to moult; they fledge by April - I wonder if we will see them before they go.

We could have spent days watching - we sat under the runway and took photos for quite a while. Further into the colony, rockhoppers were sharing the nesting site, and cormorants mixed in quite amicably.

How priviliged we feel. This is one of the special places in the world, and we had it to ourselves for the day.

Back to the lodge for lunch, penguin watching (the rockpools were bright pink - the colour of penguin pooh) and then home - a fabulous heli flight across beautiful lakes and mountains, moorland and coastline.We won't forget today.

Mummy's visit - Jan 15th - 31st

So the consultant gave Mummy the green card, and she was allowed to fly, despite the broken elbow and various other medical nightmares…
I dropped Phoebe at school, and Mummy and I set off for Brize Norton and a stressful few hours while we waited to see if she would be accepted as an indulgence passenger (lower priced seats available to the military provided there is space left on the flight..). I was escorting a number of visitors, so it was a busy evening – but by 11pm we were all ensconced on the plane, and the flight was smooth and straightforward.
We arrived at MPA with our visitors from the Military Families Federations, and by evening we were sitting in a supper party at our house. Mummy may have flown for around 20 hours, but did we allow her to go to bed early? No – we expected her to be jolly good company – and she was.
We had a pottering day, and then set off to explore Stanley with our visitors in tow. We did the normal tourist sites; cathedral, supermarket (ish), gift store, and then off to Gypsy cove; a stunning white beach, with turquoise water and massive tussock-topped sand dunes. This beach is 5 minutes from Stanley, but here is a chance to see magellanic penguins, with small fluffy babies lying in the sun outside their burrows. The night herons were still around their nests, although many had fledged, and on the beach (still a minefield)a lone king penguin stood; it had come up on the wrong beach but then started to moult, so had to stay for 2 weeks. The king penguins tend to hide a little when moulting – I think they are embarrassed.
After our day in Stanley, our next visit was to Volunteer Point. The last time I went to see the penguins, the king penguin chicks were huge and fluffy and brown, all huddled together at one end of the beach in a creche. Now there were penguins everywhere; magellanics, gentoos and kings. The babies had nearly all moulted and were preparing to swim. Even while the 13 month old king penguins babies were preparing to leave, new eggs had been laid and were visible under the feet of new mothers. We had a wonderful day; curious and confident penguins striding along the beach beside us, white sand, crashing waves, and colonies of gentoo penguins standing at the back of the beach, babies chasing their parents for food.
A wonderful day, and a good chat with Mickey the ranger, who had featured the previous week in the Sunday telegraph. Small world. We walked over to the helipad (well a corner of a field), and as the heli landed, it swung round and the down draft caught Mummy and flattened her. Oh heavens above. But she survived and we arrived home safely.
Another pottering day and then back to heliops to fly to Sea Lion island. Fabulous weather, and it was good to be back on such a beautiful island, to see Jenny again, and to stay at the Lodge, with its resident penguin colony just 100m from the door. We walked through the gentoo colony and all their chicks, and down to the beach. The Southern Giant Petrels were on nests, and soaring above our heads, watching and warning us by swooping and diving. We walked through the massive dunes and around huge tussock, and were able to see groups of petrels. Across to the opposite beach, and we saw elephant seals, young males, play-fighting, and groups of dolphin gulls with their young, pink legs and beaks against grey feathers. Later Bill and I set out across the island to find the Sea Lions and to visit the Rockhoppers . Jenny kindly drove Mummy to meet us, and we saw huge sea lions sitting with tiny new born cubs, bleating like lambs. Up to the Sheffield Memorial, and hundreds of curious, quirky rockhoppers, jumping, babies chasing parents, chicks moulting, yellow eyebrows waving in the wind.
An enjoyable evening with other guests, and early to bed – although I decided to set out for the elephant seal beach at around 9pm, and found myself wading through magellanic penguins who had all come out of their burrows to chat in the twilight. They were pretty indignant, and set about a huge braying (they are known as jackass penguins because they honk like donkeys, and they are LOUD!). I sat on the beach for far to long enjoying the calm and watching the seals, and had to stumble back in the dark.
The next day we wandered around and spent most of our time watching seals and shore birds; steamer ducks, kelp geese, two banded plovers, snowy sheathbills – and moorland birds; ground tyrants, cobbs wrens, grass wrens, and the ever – present caracara, upland goose, - and pond lovers; teals and pintails. We sat beside the huge gentoo colony and simply enjoyed their mad society; the eager anticipation of those waiting for the fishers to return, the joyful hoots when chick and parent are reunited, the angry pecking when the parent has had enough and wants to be left alone; the hysterical hide and seek and chasing which ensue.
One lone gentoo had a newly hatched chick; tiny against the rest of the colony. I hope it makes it through.
Back home, and a week of visits; off to Darwin for lunch and a look at their amazing vegetables and friendly sheep. Across to Goose Green to the fabled Galley café (sausage rolls and empanadas to keep the shearers going !). A stop at the Darwin cemetary; graveyards here are typically a mile or so away from the settlement, isolated and surrounded by white picket fences; they stand out against the moorland, bleak and yet usually neat and pretty. Darwin was the original settlement – Goose Green came later when they discovered that the water supply did not always survive the summer. This year, it has not rained in any quantity since October, and Ken from Darwin has been forced to collect water from Goose Green. We have been taking jerry cans when we go over for a day’s spinning or felting.
We dragged Mummy to various functions, including a couple at Government house in Stanley – for the Brazilian ambassador, and one for the administration of South Georgia. We made sure she worked for her supper! The Governor, Nigel Haywood, lives in Stanley, in the house that many of you will have seen in the newspapers during the Falklands war; Rex Hunt leaving in his London taxi was an iconic picture. It is a lovely house, and we are all very jealous of the orangery where flowers and real grapes grow. If only the MOD realised we need such comforts!!
The next weekend was back on a heli and off to Carcass island for Mummy and I while Bill was embroiled in an exercise. Carcass is an island to the west of West Falkland – an hour and a half flight, and landing in the moorland beside the house, which sits in a sheltered bay, below a ridge, allowing a micro climate not found anywhere else around; in the garden, palm trees grow, cedar trees and flowers. Rob McGill and his wife Lorraine have lived here for 30 years; they are the only inhabitants, and run a small lodge which can cater for 13. Perfect hosts, they rise at 4.30, cook, clean, chauffeur around the island, fetch and return to the heli site and the FIGAS airstrip (think flattish grass field) a couple of miles away, manage sheep and cattle, milk the cows (real milk!!), make butter and cream, butcher where needed…..we felt tired watching them, and yet they have time to sit, chat, listen, and tell good stories. In recent years, they have taken on some staff to help them – goodness knows how they did it all before..
Tony and Kim Chater were in the lodge. They are both amazingly creative, clever people, who have lived on a nearby island for years, and are now back in Stanley, ahead of a move to the US. Tony has produced beautiful books of photographs of the islands, and his paintings of the wildlife adorn nearly every house. It was a pleasure to have the opportunity to chat. Tony was shortly off to the UK for a hip operation (all major medical procedures require travel to UK; many have to live in the UK for months or years for treatment). Kim’s artwork and amazing felting are fabulous; beautiful felted/silk scarves in jewelled colours. They were accompanying two italian tourists to Steeple Jason, and the next day they set off for a 4 hour boat trip , with Mike Clarke from West Point as skipper. Steeple Jason is the most westerly of the islands, uninhabited, and home to the world'’ largest colony of black browed albatross. The island is owned by an american conservation association, and Rob is their agent. Landing on the island is only with special permission; we wondered whether this was something we might be able to do in future..
Lorraine kindly drove Mummy and I around the bay in the Landrover (there are no roads – it is slow progress over moorland, up and down hills to navigate streams, avoid rocks..) and dropped us off at Leopard beach which is across the water from the house. A promontory with beaches running down both sides – white sparkling sand and perfect blue skies. We sat and watched the magellanics and shore birds, and walked through the gentoo colony busy with babies. We meandered back through the tussoc grass, spotted some elephant seals and more penguins, and then took the couple of gentle miles back around the bay; warm winds, white horses on the sea – hot enough to sit and watch the sea every now and then on our way.
A huge supper around the refectory table with all the other guests, and a chance to chat. Tony, Kim and their two children, the italian couple, and the shearer and his son, a friend of the family, who has been over to shear the last few sheep. The next morning, Rob took us down to the FIGAS site and we set off for the day with a picnic. We found the skeleton of a huge whale which had washed up a few years earlier; 56feet long, white bleached vertebrae against the sky. We walked through a huge colony of kelp gulls – all sitting with nests of chicks, along the edge of the beach. The noise as they raised the alarm, and spiralled up in to the sky above us, was fantastic. Once we left the gulls behind, we started to see elephant seals; piles and piles of young bull elephant seals, sleeping in the dunes, and practising fighting in the sea; two arched crescents growling and crashing about -great performances while we ate our lunch. We walked miles, and turned back finally to meet up again with Rob, and then back to the house and to the heli.
A few more days of visits – Darwin again, Stanley, Bertha’s beach – and then time for Mummy to go – back on the long flight, hopefully with lots of happy memories.