Tales of yellow-eyebrowed penguins and water beds

WARNING: I've got carried away typing and this entry is WAY too long but you can always just look at the  pictures!

So, I'm sure anyone reading this blog regularly must be thinking something along the lines of "gosh that poor girl, she works so hard and yet she has never mentioned having any holidays.  Poor thing, I really do think she needs to take a break."  Well fear not, for I have just had a delightful five day holiday from my highly stressful job as KEP doctor/postmistress/boat crew/food nazi.  I will admit that I'm struggling to think of a time in my life when I have been less in need of a break, but the opportunity to explore more of South Georgia is not something to be passed up.

Ella and I decided for our first trip we would head over to Rookery Bay to see the biggest (possibly only but I'm not too sure) colony of Macaroni penguins on South Georgia.  It's possibly more accurate to say that I decided I wanted to see the penguins and then persuaded Ella that she wanted to come with me.  However, this blog has always been a little light on factually correct information and it seems a little late to start now.  Apparently the penguins are due to head off fairly soon for warmer climes and, since I have been looking forward to seeing them since finding  out I would be coming to South Georgia, time was of the essence.  They have yellow eyebrows. How can penguins with eyebrows be anything less than amazing?  However, due to their location this trip would involve camping - initially we planned for all four nights but, due to various reasons that I will go into later, it turned out to be two nights camping and two staying in a somewhat draughty hut.  As mentioned previously, the weather here is tricky to predict and, as a result, the amount of kit that has to be carried for a camping trip is somewhat ridiculous.  Light and fast is simply not an option when you work for BAS but, when the packing was done, it was nice to discover that we were both just about capable of lifting our bags onto our own shoulders without the need for assistance (in no way was this due to the fact that both Ella and I are far too stubborn to admit when we need help).  However, this was only possible thanks to a very minimal approach when it came to the packing of  clothes and luxury items (i.e. nice food and alcoholic beverages - dehydrated ration packs clearly being the only way forward here) and a certain level of general horribleness was to be expected.
 

A sunny start to the trip - Coral Hut

The trip started with a surprisingly choppy boat ride over to the Barff Penninsula when we realised a little too late that our bags would probably have been better placed in the cabin or at least inside dry bags.  We were then dropped on a sunny beach and left to our own devices for the next five days. Since maps of South Georgia are less detailed than you might like (if you haven't used maps with 50m contour lines then it is important to note that much can be hidden in 50m) it is always a little tricky to know what the terrain will be like.  However, the climb up from the beach was relatively gentle (except of course for the gauntlet of growling and snarling fur seals hiding in the tussock grass) and we made good progress until we reached the first lake.  Then we had a little rest.  Then, after a bit more walking, we had a little nap when we reached the col.  Then we noticed that the sky looked a bit grey and thought we should probably get moving.  Despite our rather lackadaisical (a good thing about daily crosswords is that I'm learning to spell many new words) approach to navigation we managed to find ourselves in the correct valleys and at the top of the correct col and eventually we even arrived at the right beach.  There was still a fair bit of snow about and a high point of the trip for me, though probably not so much for Ella, was when she managed to get herself so stuck in deep snow that she required digging out.  I am aware that the fact I took pictures before helping her does make me a bad person.

 Plodding up to Rookery Col with a rather splendid backdrop

 Ella......stuck

Heading down towards Rookery Bay

We found a delightful campsite on the cliffs above Rookery Bay and, once things were vaguely set up, we headed off in pursuit of penguins.  Possibly if I'd been less excited by the prospect of penguins prior to departure and paid more attention when people explained to me how to get to the colony we would have found them a little quicker.  I have made a mental note to try not to make this mistake again but, on the plus side, while clambering through steep tussock grass trying to make it up from the beach to the top of the cliffs, we did see a South Georgia Pipit.  This (admittedly rather drab brown) bird is the poster child for the eradication projects (rat and reindeer) going on here at present and is currently rather rare.  Unfortunately one of the downsides to any trip on the Barff Peninsula right now is the intermittent stench of rotting reindeer carcasses that floats around on the wind and acts as a rather unpleasant reminder of the recent cull.  It was therefore with mixed emotions that I regarded said pipit.  However, considering how rare they are, we were undeniably lucky to see him.  On the other hand, when we eventually found the penguins there were no mixed emotions!  Hundreds (maybe even thousands) of yellow eyebrowed, red eyed birds covered the hillside looking a touch miserable as they completed moulting.  Pretty damn awesome!  A fair amount of time was spent admiring them, both on land and down by the sea as they hopped up out of the water and onto a large, damp rock.  However, the weather eventually started to close in and we headed back to the shelter of the tent by a considerably more direct route than we had come. 

Penguins with eyebrows   

 More penguins with eyebrows

 A Giant Petrel chick I believe - I resisted the strong temptation to stroke him

Not an entirely unpleasant camping location

The next day we were up and off to pastures new.  We hoped to make it round to a bay further along the coast and then on again to a larger bay from which we would be able to head up the excitingly named 'Reindeer Valley' back to our pick up point after a couple of days.  Access to the first bay was a little trickier than expected due to the strong gusts of wind which came from a most inconvenient direction as we were attempted to cross a steep scree slope.  However, despite a fair bit of swearing and general bad-temperedness (mainly from me and mostly directed at my massive pack) we eventually made it to Cobbler's Cove which was quite lovely.  Again I regretted my lack of attention when having route choices explained to me back at base.  It became quickly apparent that continuing on to the next bay was probably not an option and reversing our route was likely to be the only way we would get back in one piece.  This was discovered after first heading down (through the mother of all fur seal gauntlets) to look round the base the cliffs.  It was jointly decided that we were just not brave/stupid enough to attempt to get round the coast under the cliffs without knowing whether this was even possible and with no knowledge of the current tide times.  I then suggested that we head up the rather steep and rocky looking ridge between the two valleys on the assumption that we would be able to make it down the other side and into the valley below.  Unfortunately (and to be honest, not entirely surprisingly) the other side of the ridge did not in fact turn out to be a gentle grassy slope as I had hoped and, as we teetered on the top of a loose and broken knife-edge ridge carrying our overly large packs with the same strong wind gusting, it was time to apologise to Ella and admit defeat.

It seemed like too much effort to return that day so we decided to set up camp in Cobbler's Cove and ignore the warnings of highly inclement weather heading our way the next day.  Unfortunately, ignoring the warnings did not help to prevent it coming and we awoke to the sound of hammering rain on the tent.  I eventually summoned the energy to open the tent inner and survey the damage in the porch.  It was impressive - a river had appeared under our tent and, as I lay back down in disgust, Ella felt her thermarest move and we realised that the floor of the tent was no longer solid and we were now lying on a waterbed.  Luckily the tent was new and the water remained an amusing diversion only and did not actually come to join us inside the tent.  Once the rain petered out to a mere drizzle we decided that heading back to the relative comfort of one of the huts was by far the most appealing option.  Wet kit was duly packed up, cold and damp boots donned and off we went.  As is usually the case when you are particularly dreading something, the journey back was far less gruelling than expected, though the waterfalls that had popped up all over the place meant slight detours were occasionally necessary.  I think it's fair to say that the hut we ended up at wasn't a massive upgrade in terms of luxury compared with the tent; in fact in many ways the tent had the edge on it as it was actually windproof.  However, at this time the tent was sopping wet and the hut was dry and contained a large stove and Tilley lamp.  It has been suggested by some that a boy should always be taken camping to deal with all things fire related.  Luckily this turned out to be merely a myth and I personally found that Ella managed the job remarkably well.  I also found that I am extremely good at sitting in my sleeping bag watching Ella light the stove and lamp and thus we made an excellent team.  We had hoped that our stuff would dry out in the hut but, due to the large holes and icy breeze blowing through it, this proved not to be the case.  Luckily we did at least have dry clothes to sleep in and putting on cold damp thermals is an excellent way to wake yourself up in the morning.  It also has the added bonus of waking your companion as the high pitched yelps of discomfort when cold wet merino wool meets hot sleeping bag-warmed skin are distracting to say the least.

 So much rain

 Not so warm in the hut

The weather the next day was far better than expected and we headed up into Reindeer Valley as planned.  A slightly challenging route up the side of a gushing waterfall was taken to get there, but luckily my confident remarks about it definitely getting easier higher up and about finding a different way down proved to be correct (always a bit of a gamble when you actually have no idea where you're going and stand to lose someone's trust entirely if you're wrong).  The valley had been recommended as an absolutely stunning place to visit and it did not disappoint.  We pottered slowly down it until we reached the hills overlooking Godthul Bay and decided it was time for lunch (oatcakes, marmite and cheese with a kitkat for pudding in case you're interested).  As we headed back to the hut the weather deteriorated and we were soon walking into biting hail being blown directly at us with some force.  Rather fortuitously we had decided to pack goggles for just such an occasion and, although we looked relatively ridiculous, the wander home wasn't entirely unpleasant.   

 Reindeer Valley

 Godthul Bay

After an evening of cards, poorly rehydrated ration packs (I do love crunchy pasta), a lot of tea and a night spent with a particularly cold draught blowing right across my face, we were delighted to wake up to sunshine and warmth.  After some haphazard packing (on my part at least - Ella is far more organised) we headed off along the coast to see how far we could get before we had to return for our pick-up.  We'd probably have got much further if it hadn't been for the sunshine and the regular and extended breaks that this necessitated.  I got sunburnt, we ensured our boots remained nicely damp by partaking in some particularly exciting river crossing and we had lunch high above the bay with icebergs below, a glacier protruding into the sea on our left and views of the ocean on our right.  Needless to say it was a good way to end the trip.  And then it was over.  The boat came to pick us up (dry bags were used this time) and then we were back at base. Overall an excellent trip and a good time to start planning the next adventure....

Looking across the bay to where we usually live

River crossing South Georgia style - iceberg backdrop essential

 Taxi home

Stamps, pie and extravagant spending

Deep drifts and a rather strange sky

I woke up last week feeling rather chilly and turned over in bed to see quite a lot of snow coming in through the open window.  The snow continued to fall all day and, thanks to the 50 knot winds that accompanied it, by the afternoon there were waist high drifts all round the base.  Going anywhere was just unpleasant and, no matter what complicated clothing arrangement I tried, as soon as I ventured outside I could feel the icy snow making its way in and dribbling down my neck.  I mostly spent the day sheltering inside the surgery playing music loudly and doing terribly useful and important doctor type things.  However, to say the weather on South Georgia is unpredictable would be somewhat of an understatement, and the following day I woke to glorious sunshine, the sound of dripping and the soft thuds of melting snow falling from the roof.  The snow temporarily made running outside impossible, but after a couple of days with no outside exercise I started to feel the familiar unsettled twitchiness and decided it would be best to head out to see if one of my usual routes was passable.  My shoes were soaked within a couple of minutes of leaving the base but, once I made it round the cove, the hill up to Gull Lake was fairly clear.  Unfortunately, as I headed down into one of the small dips at the top of the hill, the limitations of my clothing choice became apparent.  The temperature had dropped enough for the snow to freeze and, as I plunged through the crispy surface into knee deep snow, it felt much like I was being attacked by hundreds of tiny razor blades.  Momentum and stubbornness carried me forward for a few metres but I quickly surrendered and returned to the snowless track to inspect my shins, which were now covered in scratches and tiny dots of blood – full length trousers would probably have been a more suitable choice.  Since then I have just settled for doing laps on the hill, but the fact that one of the guys on base made it round the whole lake the day after I declared it ‘totally impossible’ has left me feeling more than a little pathetic.

 Looking down over King Edward Cove and Gull Lake just before the snow came

As well as attempting to control all things food-related on base, one of my other jobs is to help out with the Post Office.  I’ve been having lessons from Hugh (the proper postmaster) to ensure that I have some idea of what’s involved but, to be totally honest, the only thing I could really focus on was the fact I get to stamp things.  Lots and lots of things.  In my role of ‘assistant postmistress’ I have so far got to go on two of the more luxurious cruise ships to help run the onboard post office and have now taken over the running of both the KEP and Grytviken post offices for winter as Hugh has just returned to the UK.  Other than managing to overcharge everyone on the cruise ships for postcards due to a little confusion between the cost of the cards themselves versus the stamps needed for them, it has all been going well.  Luxury cruise ships are dangerous places though and I left The Fram in possession of a ridiculously expensive Norwegian jumper.  Ever since watching ‘The Killing’ I have had the feeling that my life would not be complete until I had gained possession of a proper woolly jumper and, since the options for purchasing a jumper of any kind are more than a little limited down here, it seemed best to just bite the bullet and ignore the terrifying cost.  I have pretty much worn it every day since and it does make me extremely happy when I put it on so it’s probably a worthwhile investment.

Penguin chicks grow very, very fast

Too many pictures of penguins yet?

The boating obligations have decreased slightly in the last couple of weeks now the scientists and shooters have left the island, but I have still made it out for a bit of training.  The shouts of “reverse, reverse, REVERSE” accompanied one of my finer moments as I brought the jetboat alongside in what can only be described as the most perfectest of perfect handbrake turns (or at least the jetboat equivalent of this).  Yes, I was going way to fast and yes, I had been totally distracted by some pesky kelp near the jetty and yes, I did come extremely close to totalling a VERY, VERY expensive bit of kit and no, this was in no way how I had planned to come alongside.  However, if all that is ignored, it was magnificent!  The look on Ella’s face and the fact that, for the first time ever in our long and illustrious boating relationship she almost raised her voice, means it probably won’t be something I’ll be doing again.  I do, after all, actually rather like being allowed to drive the boats.  Admittedly there have been a couple of other slight blips along the way since which I won’t go into for fear of sounding like a total imbecile, but generally it does appear to be getting a bit easier and occasionally I even have some semblance of control over which direction the boat is going in.

Boating around (but definitely NOT through) some rather exciting icebergs

On the other hand my cooking has recently taken a nosedive and I have now served my first (almost certainly of many) meal of pasta and sauce.  Prior to this, however, I did fulfil a lifelong goal and made pie!  It turned into another epic day in the kitchen as I discovered it’s terribly tricky to know how much shortcrust pastry will be required to cover both the top and bottom of a very large pie dish.  Many batches were mixed and I can now see why all the recipes I found were for pie with pastry covering the top only.  Unfortunately, since I am of the strong opinion that a high pastry to filling ratio is vital for good pie, there was really no option except to just keep mixing.  As it turns out, there is an adapter for the mixer that makes the whole process much, much quicker, and if I am ever to make pie again this will definitely need to be located.  On the plus side, the pastry: filling ratio was acceptable and the pie was surprisingly edible. 

BBQ to say goodbye to the Museum Assistants who have now headed back to the UK

Finally the Shackleton came in for last call which meant cranes, hard hats and a lot of work for the JCB drivers.  Essentially I had little to do with the whole thing so I decided my time was best spent having a lovely lunch on the ship with lots of fresh fruit and vegetables - I nearly cried when I saw the grapes.  Last call means all our carefully separated waste has now been taken away, we have received the emergency toilet roll delivery (sighs of relief all round) and, in theory at least, we have seen the last of the BAS ships before first call in November(ish).  In reality there are rumours that the JCR will be popping by for a visit in April and, as we will continue to have fishing vessels coming in over winter, last call is a much less significant event here than it is at Rothera and Halley, where it really is the last that will be seen of the outside world for several months.

Everyone else hard at work

The Shackleton parked up in the evening sun at KEP

'I'm sorry, you meant the other starboard didn't you?'

 

A light dusting of snow outside the surgery

It seems that I have now been living on South Georgia for over a month which has come as a bit of a surprise.  I’m rather hoping that time will start to pass a little more slowly or the year will be over before I’ve had time to do any of the things I have planned.  It’s also very likely that I’ve planned to do way too many things.  Compared to life on the ship, life on a base is much, much busier.  Not with medical things obviously – best not to get carried away with that kind of silliness.  However, I have been spending a lot of time out on the boats as people appear to have noticed that the doctor doesn’t have a particularly taxing medical workload here and is therefore usually available to crew.  Probably not something I’m going to complain about as it means I get to go pottering around to different parts of the island dropping off people to kill the reindeer or pick up people from visiting ships on beautiful sunny evenings with turquoise water beneath and incredible lenticular cloud formations above us.  I also get to drive both the RIBs and jetboats when conditions allow and this is not an entirely unpleasant way to pass the time.  I would say I’m not a natural jetboat pilot and my first attempt at coming alongside left something to be desired.  Mostly this was due to a poorly timed blonde moment which resulted in me forgetting which part of the jetty I was aiming for.  It all started off so well and the boat came alongside fairly gently exactly where I had planned.  I felt terribly proud of myself for about 5 seconds until I realised this was not where all the mooring lines were.  Unfortunately, the effort of reversing back to where I was actually meant to be was way too much for me to cope with and went something along the lines of “oh sh*t which way do I turn the wheel again?  Yes, yes I now realise that was the wrong way. Sorry.  Oh dammit, what’s the boat doing now?  Yes, I think it would be best if you take over from here.  No, no I don’t want another go today.  No really, now I mainly just want to get off this sodding boat and have a cup of tea....and maybe some chocolate.  Or a biscuit.  Or maybe chocolate and a biscuit.”  Apparently it will get easier......

Boating in the snow

 Spaceship clouds

I have also been doing a lot of food sorting and I have found some real delights at the back of a few shelves.  Surprisingly people here seem very keen to eat massively out of date stuff and get a little twitchy when I want to throw out salad cream and frozen fish that expired in 2005.  I am neither keen to eat the food myself nor deal with the potentially unpleasant consequences of other people eating it and have started to slowly and surreptitiously confiscate it.  I am a little concerned by the fact that I am starting to enjoy organising the food a bit too much and suspect that the slight OCD tendencies I had before I came out here may well get totally out of hand during the course of the year.  Incidentally, the pineapple arrived and it was awesome!  The food bill also arrived and I have decided it may be best if I don’t order pineapples from the Falklands every month.  However, budgeting never was a strong point of mine and I do like pineapple a lot!

 I have so many pictures of this guy

The dark ones are not entirely un-cute either

Hmmm, what else?  I have now cooked twice and no one has died which is good.  I have learnt that when attempting to make fish fie it is better to drain off all the water from the defrosted fish before you pour on the sauce and cover it in potato.  Disaster was narrowly averted with some help from Ella who kindly attempted to hold onto all the potato as I poured off the water.   I haven’t yet learnt to enjoy cooking and strongly suspect I never will, but I will hopefully be able to avoid poisoning people and I will hopefully learn how to cook pies.  I do love pies.   I have also been out running a lot and I think my mental health has now returned to normal after the confines of the ship life sent me a bit loopy.  I have also been spending A LOT of time hanging out with the seal pups, especially the blonde one who I have totally fallen in love with.  The penguins have started to have babies, which currently look a bit like some kind of reptilian creature, but will soon turn into wonderful balls of brown fluff.  The adults have nearly all finished moulting and are looking very proud of themselves.  I think I preferred them when they were losing feathers and looked totally fed up and embarrassed about the whole thing.  However, they do look more shiny and colourful now.

 Not massively cute at this age it has to be said

“More food, more food!”

Moulting penguins do look fairly ridiculous

All moulted and looking very happy with himself