White Rock House

Bill and I escaped to the shepherds shanty at White Rock; an outside house used by sheep gatherers and shepherds from Port Howard farm on West Falkland. A white and red wriggly tin house in the middle of nowhere;  a diesel generator which Bill wound up (Critter’s advice was ‘wind like hell’), a pump to fill the tanks from the spring, and a peat stove for cooking and heating. Fabulous. A weekend away – basic basic, bunk beds, sleeping bags, bare floor and plenty of mice. But the views.. and the wildlife…rockhoppers and cormorants everywhere, spectacular cliffs and a fabulous pebble beach. Treasure !

West Point Island

A fabulous day out with the Jones Avenue mob; clear blue skies and strong winds and a heli trip with film set views across West Falkland. The island is a stride off the West peninsular;  uninhabited for the Winter but managed by Mike and Jeanette Clarke in the Sumer months. They run their distinctive yellow boat back and forth to Carcass island, and from there to Steeple Jason; a 4 hour one way trip which is notorious for impressive waves. We have stuck to helis.

The inlet which heads into the settlement is an idyllic  harbour edged with white beaches and hebe, sheep and penguins bothering each other loudly. The house has the most protected gardens I have yet seen – and as a result the most incredible flowers; roses, honeysuckle in full bloom-and away from the wind and inbetween the hedges, the perfume lingered. This was clearly our picnic spot – but we had exploring to do first.

The winding path out of the settlement leads up the saddle dropped between the dramatic cliffs facing south. A half hour uphill climb rewards you with impressive cliff faces, crashing seas, Rockhopper penguins and Albatross. Sunny enough to encourage us to sit and watch, we watched the antics of the chicks, and sat underneath the albatross flightpath, always a risky and exciting pastime.

Back to the house and a magnificent picnic provided by David (well I did a bit) and supplemented by a huge spread of tea and cakes from Jeanette. I wish we had found this island earlier – it is very similar to New Island in character and wildlife – definitely in the top 10.

Pebble Island - January 2013

A weekend for just the two of us to head back to Pebble. We have been here before, we have hosted the Vets and attended their lectures on the Pebble island raid; so to be returning with the promise of a tour from Alan (who with Jackie owns the lodge) was something to look forward to.

We had two days, so asked to be dropped off East on Day 1; a 6 or 7 mile walk back in bright blustery weather – lots of wildfowl, whale bones, and some Sea Lions. The long sandy beach leading to the settlement is purported to be the longest in the Falklands, and it feels it at the end of a long hike when you are ready for a bath..

The next day we headed off in the Rover with Alan. Going West to see the Lear jet memorial, we stopped at the Cross for HMS Coventry and took photos of the cracks which are emerging again, so that a plan could be hatched to bring it back to standard. The views from this spot are spectacular – out across Coventry bay, now officially named, thanks to Alan, and a perfect reminder of the ship and her crew. The Bay was the one the captain had apparently chosen as the ‘run to’ option in case of damage. She never managed to get there, but it serves as a beautiful memorial.

Rockhoppers everywhere; noise, squawks, smell, curious chicks waddling up to the camera – and then on to the western-most point to lunch at the fabled pebble beach. Falkland pebbles can be found on a number of the northern most beaches of the islands, but nowhere is as well known as this beach. Alan, eyes fully trained, collected handfuls instantly, but we were soon catching up; there had been a number of storms, and the crashing waves had landed new treasure. There is clearly some volcanic activity north of the islands which superheats stones and produces glassy, collectable pebbles. These will be prize mementos, and better than any tourist purchase.     

Dinner with Alan’s Mum who was staying at the lodge again – and Stu from Jones avenue, taking his parents on a tour. I bet he was glad to see us arrive ..

Christmas in the Sun/Rain !

An escape from school and a tense wait to see if we had to travel to Teeside airport to avoid the fog, resulted in the flight leaving only two hours late from Brize.  Phoebe celebrated her birthday at 30,000 feet and we landed at 4pm in time for birthday supper and cake made by David.

We had a week just the three of us and set off to enjoy some time together – first to Carcass, and then to Weddell island.

Carcass was beautiful and welcoming as ever. Rob lent us a Rover and Roland filled us full of food. Fresh milk, and cream skimmed off the top of the bucket – fabulous. We walked to Leopard Beach to see the penguin chicks – many still very tiny – just a few days old. Johnny Rooks were waiting their chances and unwatched eggs and chicks were easy prey. On the second day we headed over Stanley hill towards the FIGAS (Falkland Island Government Air Service) airstrip and spent the day watching elephant seals roaring and play fighting. They were in full moult and looked fairly tramp-like, itchy and scruffy, but were unbothered by our stumblings and watched, vaguely interested as we crept through the tussac.  We picnicked on the warm lichen-painted rocks at the north end of the island, watched by magellanics and tussac birds, and with seals curiously bobbing in the sea.

Before heading off to Weddell we had a few days at home, and the Kilmartins came for lunch so that they could visit the typhoons. Toby, 6, sat in the cockpit and pressed a few buttons, so the nation is safe for the future; his grandfather was a pilot – maybe Toby will follow in his footsteps..

We had never visited Weddell and were not sure what to expect. A huge island – 98 km square, and third only in size to the two main East and West islands, Weddell now houses two inhabitants, Jane and Martin, ex military, and living here 6 month of the year for the last 6 years.

The cottages are gradually being refurbished; we stayed in Sea View – perfect for a family, with two bedrooms and a dining kitchen and living room. Chickens squawking on one side of the house, meadowlarks tapping at the windows on the other. Mountain View can sleep at least 8, and Hamilton Cottage looks to be being renovated at the moment. We had thought Weddell did not have much wildlife, but we were wrong. A Gentoo colony busy with chicks, is 5 minutes from the settlement, and seals (fur seals, sea lions ?) are around in the sea, with a large colony of Sea Lions at the end of the point a 45 minute drive away. Unique to the island are the Patagonian foxes introduced by a previous owner. Small and cat-like, they are sandy coloured and appear to live mainly on insects, predating to some degree on Magellanic chicks when they can slip into undefended burrows. With the conservation focus and the drive to eradicate invasive species, the foxes have been studied and at one point, targeted for eradication, but the consensus now is that they do little harm, and they are certainly an interesting addition to the environment.

Only 750 sheep live on Weddell at the moment, but in the past maqqqny thousands have overgrazed the island and much of the tussock has gone, leaving it a little bare in places. The flora is abundant despite this, and we found Ladies Slipper and white and yellow orchids in bloom, as well as Vanilla daisy (yes it smells just like ice cream according to Phoebe) and field mouse ear and berry lobelia. The very botanists we are becoming… We did the whole lying on the ground in the wet thing to take close up photos..

Home again to prepare for Christmas. Oh my goodness lots of cooking and decorating. Off to Bertha’s Beach to find a Kelp tree (no trees here, so dried kelp will do – 6’ high branches, dried like wood and painted white) – very modernist.

On Sunday 23rd the livers in arrived at the house for carol singing, mulled wine and mince pies, and on Christmas Eve the Military wives’ choir did the same but different, just as the family arrived on the airbridge (I think they thought it was an especially warm welcome), followed by a Christmas drinks party which the family, jaded though they must have been, galloped their way through gamely.

Christmas day brought the usual deliveries of mince pies and sprouts to the troops, and after chapel we finally all reconvened for mass present opening before lunch. It is midsummer here, but during lunch it snowed. And not just a bit – a LOT. The Summer has been bizarre this year – it must be following the UK. We are still hoping for some blue sky..

The Stanley Races (100^th Anniversary) were cancelled because of the rain, but we drove into Stanley anyway to see the sights, and  as a cruise ship finally managed to make it into the harbour as the wind dropped in the afternoon, a couple of gift shops opened for an hour or to, and the girl’s day was complete. A visit to Surf Bay with spectacular storm waves, and Gypsy Cove to see the magellanics (Zoe and Hannah’s first penguin !) and Night Herons before home to leftovers and bubble and squeak.

The 27^th saw a first Heli trip for the Ford family. Off to Volunteer Point amidst sun wind and rain – we were sunburned and wet through all in the same half hour. Here are perhaps the largest group of penguins on the islands; Gentoos, Kings and Magellanics, and we had time and peace to watch their antics and photograph the slightly embarrassed looking King chicks currently moulting and looking rather weird.

Remembrance weekend

Whoops - I've added the picture twice. hey ho. What a busy weekend - 50 Veterans, The Duke of Kent, and Mark Lancaster and Kevan Jones from Westminster. The windiest day yet at Blue Beach with stinging hail for a poignant service on Friday, a joyful service in the cathedral on Saturday with the Band of the Royal Marines, and Remembrance day which dawned with warm air and blue sky on Sunday. Fabulous for the vets to see what they were fighting for;many had never landed on the islands - fewer has seen Stanley or felt the gratitude if the islanders.

Summer on New Island

Blue skies, temperatures up to 22/23 degrees, and a warm wind. The best days of the Falklands have arrived (don't blink - it could be snowing again tomorrow) and we are enjoying them while we can. We flew to New island on Friday; west of Weddell beyond west Falkland; a spectacular flight on a clear day over winding coastlines and running white streamers across the bluest of seas.

Maria Strange came with us to spend time with Georgina, her daughter, who manages the island for the Trust they created. It is a conservation island and generally populated only by Georgina, the handyman Sam (out from the UK for the Summer, and picked from a good crop of applicants) and a few scientists. It was good to meet Laurent and his wife Maude and two small boys again; they are out for a couple of months studying hormones in Rockhoppers. Another two scientists are observing the albatross. Laurent's son, about 3, spent the day making mud dams on the beach, surrounded by wildlife, happily chattering to himself, and shadowed by the resting hulk of an old icebreaker ship now beached, its copper hull green and peeling in the sun.

 So, peace and quiet as we stayed across the bay from the rest of the group - in a tiny chalet-style log cabin which Ian and Maria built for themselves years ago. The view across the bay offers a picture of Upland Goose goslings, magellanic oystercatchers, kelp geese and Steamer ducks, and the odd Seal and Dolphin. The tide washes the small sandy neck in and out, and this weekend the sea sparkled magically.

Friday we walked across the main neck to The Rookery and spent an hour or so watching the heady mix of Imperial Cormorants, Rockhoppers and Albatross which shoehorn themselves into the rock faces on the west facing cliffs. There are thousands of them, all nest building and vying for nesting materials (diddle dee and tussoc) and space. A cacophany of noise and attitude. We wandered back in the evening sun and fell asleep early in the quiet.

Saturday morning, Georgina trundled us in the Rover across clay ruts and rock falls to the North of the island, to allow us to explore as far as possible in a day. We revsited North beach and its tiny shanty (Georgiana's honeymoon house when she is married in December), and walked through hundreds of gentoo penguins sitting on eggs. The Caracaras were doing their worst and there were some bloody sights, but watching penguins jumping in and out of the sea never gets boring. At the waters edges a huge male Fur Seal was sun bathing, but scuttled, dog-like, into the sea as we approached.
We set off for the nearby Albatross Rookery, set in precipitous cliffs above crashing waves, and walked the beautiful coastline to find the Fur Seals - about 30 of them - a community of characters; young males play fighting, mothers sleeping, young seals playing like labrador pups, sliding down rocks into the sea. ambushing each other from behind boulders. We walked from 10 in the morning til 7 at night and arrived back to the chalet for a glass of wine and a fabulous sunset. Dozing in the chairs, we remembered to venture out at 10.30, as dark fell properly, to witness the return of the Prions; the smallest of the Petrel family, they spend their days at sea and return to burrows at night. In the darkness, they seem to have a bat-like orientation system, flying into their small burrows at speed in the pitch black. Standing in the dark and feeling birds all around, hearing their wings past your face and their busy conversation, was a memorable experience.

Sunday our feet ached; we ventured south across the island to visit the abandoned whaling station. The only one of the Falkland Islands to be used for whaling, Salvesen set up a station around  1910 and ran it for  5 or 6 years, before deciding that South Georgia was more lucrative, abandoning New island. Huge rusting hulks of furnaces, vices, clamps and haulage devices stand on pristine white beaches, and you can only imagine the horror.

Back to MPH  and across Onion ranges where live firing has set the diddle dee alight. back to business...

Third chick arrives!

We have just returned from a fabulous weekend on New Island (more about that later) to find a third chick has hatched .Hoorah! We need names please....
Delilah seems to be a very good mother  -she is keeping the babies under her feathers and squawking when we disturb her. We have boiled eggs and mashed them up as apparently this is what baby chicks prefer. They seem to be eating well, so fingers crossed.
They are VERY sweet.