Summer break
over, with lazy days on the canal, soporific afternoons at Henley and visits to
Eton Dorney to watch the rowing all behind us, the three of us set off for the
Falklands for the Summer/Winter holidays. Last year, we spent weeks with snow
up to the windows, taken hostage by the wind and roads closed. I was
apprehensive that we would be met with the same fate; a group of us had planned
a huge raft of children’s activities to ensure everyone was busy and happy,
whatever the weather. Cooking with the chefs, felting, sport with the PTIs,
craft sessions, films and bouncy castles.
Landing at
ascension, we met Mark, new Station Commander. He was due to visit FI the
following week, and in the end he brought Beccie and Amy with him –Amy is the
same age as Phoebe, and reeling from transferring from leafy England and
grammar school, to a remote, barren Atlantic rock. We had a good week; Beccie and Amy pitched
in to help with the children’s activities, and we were able to take them to see
the penguins on Bertha’s Beach, and at Volunteer Point. Landing in FI on a
wonderfully sunny afternoon, we put 20 hours travel behind us and marched along
Bertha’s Beach as the bright Winter sun
lowered in the sky, to watch long- shadowed penguins marching out of the sea in
their nightly exodus as they filled up their camp sites for the night.
Trips to
Stanley, mad rushing between children’s activity sessions, and then we escaped
for the weekend to Elephant Beach farm. Up past San Carlos, and NW of
Stanley, Ben Bernsten lives with his
African wife Maria just a mile or so off what is known locally as the M25
(think clay farm track, but it’s a circular road and usually passable). They
have built a cosy cabin on their farm, and offer the option of a roast dinner
cooking in the oven. We ordered beef; half a cow awaited us, smelling just like
it should – no one was around when we arrived, so the smell was the only way to
know we were in the right place! In Summer, off road trips to Ben’s beach for
Falkland pebbles and wildlife will be good, but for now, we wandered the inlets
and visited Mandy next door with her chicken fields. This was where we had
bought our latest two (one has turned out to be a cockerel) and by the end of
the weekend, we had ordered two more. Mandy’s daughter Louise with husband Tony
and tiny baby daughter all live there at the moment. Mandy and Louise make soaps
and lip balms to sell locally, and Tony has a graphic design business from the
kitchen table. They brought their wares to our Craft fair the following week,
and the chickens arrived at the same time. They have been named Delilah and
Hepzibah and are laying already. Hoorah!
The next
excitement was the arrival of the new warship patrolling South Atlantic
seas. Dauntless looks an impressive ship
sitting in Port William; as we drove towards Stanley, she was standing proud of
the headland, modern lines and stocky. A week of visits, parties, outings and
dinners, both for the base and the crew. The culmination was Sunday church
followed by a brief service at the liberation
memorial to lay a wreath, and then preparation to leave the islands. We
drove out to Gypsy Cove and walked across the cliffs overlooking the bay, where
the century old gun installations still stand, to watch as she readied to go to
sea. It was a hot still day, and hard to believe that 12 months earlier we were
snow bound.
Jenny Luxton
kindly invited us back to Sea Lion Island before the start of the season – but
her plans were scuppered when she was called early (or probably late) back to
the UK for a knee replacement. Maurice
flew out to Sea Lion alone to check, mend and start up as required, and we
joined him, with sleeping bags and food for the weekend. Three days of perfect
weather followed (apart from an hour of hail and squalls when we had just
managed to reach the Rover in time) and we were hugely privileged to be the
only people wandering the island, witnessing the return of the first elephant
seals, the first sea lion, and the rafts and rafts of Gentoo penguins as usual.
Southern Giant Petrels swooped overhead, Caracara’s followed us, and the Snipe
hopped around our feet.
The supply
ship, which calls every 6 weeks or so was due, and we went to the Gulch with
Maurice to unload. The seas were reasonable, but the Concordia bay tried for an
hour to find sound anchor – and failed. The sea truck was lowered and brought
in some basics, but with no anchorage, the fuel line could not be secured, and
she left without offloading the much needed diesel for the generator. She will
be back in mid-September. Standing in the chill, next to swirling kelp ,and
willing the anchor to hold this time,
as the sun dropped in the sky, the warm of the day disappeared and the wind
blew up, reminded us (and particularly our fingers ! that it was still Winter.
Heading back
on the air-bridge now, we have just been intercepted by two typhoons
practising; the huge roar as they arrive is awesome – and close enough to see
the pilots – weird!
A weekend of
unpacking and repacking, and then Phoebe is back to school on Wednesday. Roll
on half term.
