Walking to work yesterday. Passing down Dean Street ¹ over my head soared a turkey vulture. I'm sure it was the one that was waiting for me to peg out while climbing what must be the steepest hill in Stanley².

This majestic bird rode the winds, with terminal wing feathers splayed as it swooped and glided. Its mastery of the air is superb.

My heart soared with this bird. Such a good way to start the day

Stanley observations

Life just strikes you as being different from home. I walked across a grass verge with long uncut grass. What was different here is that I did not step in dog poo. Nothing here to dismay you when you have arrived in the house at home only to discover that you are the bearer of really bad news on your shoes. Very few dogs here, just cats so no mess. Most dogs are working sheepdogs. Therefore no mess.
As much as I like dogs as pets, inconsiderate owners do make life a mess in the UK.

Peat
I did wonder why a lot of the sheds here seemed to be built poorly with lots of gaps for the wind to whistle through. The wind does the final drying of the peat as it slips though the gaps. Most sheds though are now empty of peat and just serve to contain the usual junk we all keep just in case

Jehlum
After many a year as a local landmark, the Jehlum is disintegrating. In fits and starts — with each storm, more is gone.

Elephant Seals

Our 2nd day on Carcass. A warm welcome to the home of Rob & Lorraine the day before. Chilean Cabernet Sauvignan at dinner and then talking with our fellow guests and hosts until late in the evening.

We forget what island life involves. All supplies must be landed on the island aside from sheep and cattle (and here, milk). That includes electricity. The wind lands on the island and turns the turbines. Only the basic power needs are produced by wind, the diesel generator provides the muscle. The vagaries of the wind are smoothed by battery storage, but if the shearing shed graders are not switched off, then the power will die in the late evening. Washing machines are for the daytime, but charging the iPad is ok at night.

So, fully charged, we were off to the elephant seals. Lorraine drove us out to the northern tip of the island just past the airstrip. We could smell them before we could see them. A powerful (and nauseating) stench arose from the slumbering giants. Something had crawled inside and died. Perhaps it was the sloughing skin that they shed every year, or was it just related to halitosis from both ends? Rumbles, farts, belches and gurgles came from all directions.

Images of Saunders
Memories now, but a nice way of celebrating our time in the west is to share.

PS the Trypot is no longer used.

A patch of paradise

What a welcome! A smoko was in full swing. Tea, coffee and more calories that can be good for you were gracing the table. The mist was being burned away, Johnny Rook was being vocal on the back step and the scent of honeysuckle as we walked through the garden was an olfactory ambush.

Boots off, feet up and to relax before lunch.

Do visit Carcass Island. The food is to die for and the comfort is that of an oasis in a harsh world.

Leopard beach

No leopard seals in recent years, but their prey ie penguins, in abundance. A gentle bimble along the landrover track, and then … a staggering vista. Tussock grass as far as the eye could see with clumps across the narrow neck of this island. A scene truly from Jurassic Park. I could just imagine dinosaurs roaming between these ancient looking plants.

No dinosaurs, but Penguins; Magellanics and Gentoos in their hundreds. Porpoising in the water, riding the surf into land or running down the beach, they are in their element. Fat babies or should I say adolescents, stand around with their peers, shedding fluffy feathers into the wind. A mad wedding celebration with confetti feathers scattered to the southern ocean winds.

Carcass Island

The farthest inhabited island on the NW edge of the Falkland archipeligo — our next call. The day dawned gloomy, but the mist was not as thick as a peasouper — perhaps a consomme?

A French cruise ship pulled into the south bay and inflatables drove to the beach. Guides wearing antarctic red cagoules came ashore. We were in muted greys, Barbour sage green and Meindel boots. I think we blended into the landscape; they stood out.

Our landrover arrived and we returned the 10 miles to the settlement — a journey of over 1 hour as the Defender crawled over rock falls and then trundled across Diddle-dee.

The settlement had been sunny the afternoon before and the day was shaping up to be bright.

The Islander plane bounced down, disgorging among others, my colleague and friend of old, Norman Binnie, the surgical advisor to the islands, now off on a bit of R&R down at the Neck of Saunders.

Fog banks were reported out at the Jasons and Carcass was fog bound. Our FIGAS pilot peered out of his window, flew wavetop low and hugged the coast of the islands. I spotted the settlement on Carcass, but other details were blurred by the fog.

The plane banked around the top of the island and dropped onto the grass strip. Another safe landing and Rob (the owner of Carcass was there to greet us)

His sheep were to be shorn, and Daniel a fellow passenger was the man for the job.

Carcass Island

The farthest inhabited island on the NW edge of the Falkland archipeligo — our next call. The day dawned gloomy, but the mist was not as thick as a peasouper — perhaps a consomme?

A French cruise ship pulled into the south bay and inflatables drove to the beach. Guides wearing antarctic red cagoules came ashore. We were in muted greys, Barbour sage green and Meindel boots. I think we blended into the landscape; they stood out.

Our landrover arrived and we returned the 10 miles to the settlement — a journey of over 1 hour as the Defender crawled over rock falls and then trundled across Diddle-dee.

The settlement had been sunny the afternoon before and the day was shaping up to be bright.

The Islander plane bounced down, disgorging among others, my colleague and friend of old, Norman Binnie, the surgical advisor to the islands, now off on a bit of R&R down at the Neck of Saunders.

Fog banks were reported out at the Jasons and Carcass was fog bound. Our FIGAS pilot peered out of his window, flew wavetop low and hugged the coast of the islands. I spotted the settlement on Carcass, but other details were blurred by the fog.

The plane banked around the top of the island and dropped onto the grass strip. Another safe landing and Rob (the owner of Carcass was there to greet us)

His sheep were to be shorn, and Daniel a fellow passenger was the man for the job.

Question?

How many penguins do you need to boil to get 4.5 litres of oil?

Answer — in an iron Trypot you need 8 penguins

As far as the eye can see, huddled in groups across the neck in Saunders. Dots on the sand from the cabin and raucous colonies from sniffing distance.

They do not mind us if we sit down and stay still. They will spook, even if you pass at the recommended distance. Their lives are on a high state of alert. Predators are aloft and even amongst them, just waiting for their chance. I am told that when there are chicks, that the cull by vultures, Giant Southern Petrels and the omnipresent Skuas is distressing to behold.

Nature has no pity. Life teams in the seas down here, but sometimes luck just runs out. Hundreds of jelly fish lay cast up upon the sands — including some denizens of the deep.