As mentioned
in previous blogs, one of my roles here on the island relates to the provision
of food. Whilst it's not my most
favourite occupation in the world (that would be eating or possibly running),
it's not very arduous, and every now and again I get to negotiate deals with
the ships. This is something I do like
doing, especially when there is something the ship actually needs that I can
provide. For example, if a cruise ship
with British passengers on board were to be running out of tea, mutiny obviously
becomes a very real possibility. We have
rather an excess of teabags on base which put me in a strong position when it came
to bargaining, and explains the few kilos of tiger prawns, high quality white
chocolate and polish sausages that were delivered to us in return for a few of
the aforementioned tea-bags. I suspected
this would be the pinnacle of my achievements at KEP but, when the JCR made a
quick call to give the scientists and crew some rest and relaxation ashore, exciting
opportunities arose. The ship will soon
be heading north to warmer waters and tropical weather and the crew were in
need of squash to help keep everyone well hydrated. We have an awful lot of squash, but we don't
have scallops, shell-on tiger prawns, tuna steaks, crab meat or gin. Ok, so we do have gin. But not that much. We now have all of the above and I think my
work as food nazi is done. No food deal
will ever surpass this and I think it's best if I just retire now. Unfortunately I do need to count all the food
first. This I will enjoy less!
 |
| Morning light on the hills - the view from my bedroom |
As well as
food deals, the other exciting thing that happened when the JCR came alongside
was a joint ship/base BBQ. This is
something that rarely happens these days as there is usually much work to be
done when the ship's alongside and a very tight schedule. However, this time we had a whole evening of
relaxing and mingling and some excellent food, provided almost entirely by the
ship's galley crew. As a tenuously related
point, I've just discovered that meatballs can be made from leftover burgers by
using a tiny pastry cutter to cut out perfect little circles. Realistically this is probably the closest I
will ever get to making meatballs.
In more adventurous
news, I've recently been on a terribly exciting journey to the king penguin
colony at St Andrews Bay - mostly exciting because the beach is home to about
150 000 adult penguins not to mention all their chicks, but also because we
went round there in boats! The bay is a considerable
distance from base and well outside our normal boating limits. However, in special circumstances we are
sometimes allowed to head round in the boats rather than having to tackle the standard
seven hour hike across the Barff Peninsula to get there. Luckily the need to resupply the hut with food
and medical stuff as well as take out rubbish and drop off two of the winterers
for a holiday meant that permission was duly given for the trip. Names for the boating crew were drawn from a
hat to ensure fairness and my name was pulled out as one of the RIB drivers (much
grinning followed). Extended boating trips
require much organisation and an awful lot of kit; enough kit to survive being
marooned on South Georgia for at least 3 days in fact. The boatie people have to do lots of checks
on the boats and, to be completely honest, the whole preparation part of the
trip turned out to be a bit of a pain.
However, as we set off with everything loaded and A LOT of warm clothes
on, this was quickly forgotten. The bay
where we live (East Cumberland) is generally very sheltered and it was flat
calm as we left the jetty, however, the people who know about all things marine
and weather related were predicting a sizable swell further out. When I first started driving the RIBs I have
to admit that I thought the whole point of them was to allow you to drive at
high speed and take off from the larger waves, ensuring all engines cleared the
water, before coming back down to land with a very exciting (albeit quite
uncomfortable) thud. It turns out this
is not the point of them at all and actually isn't a particularly good
idea. In fact, it turns out the real skill
when driving RIBs is being able to read the waves and adjust the speed quickly
as you go over them so as to ensure the hull stays in contact with the water as
much as possible. This makes for a more
comfortable ride for passengers and reduces the risk of catastrophic damage to
the boat. Unfortunately, wave riding is
far more tricky than just taking off from the waves and is definitely something
I have yet to fully master. However, as
Ernie and I headed out towards open water and the waves gradually got bigger
and bigger we didn't do too badly and I think there were only a couple of small(!)
thuds as I mistimed decelerations or just entirely failed to notice the
incoming wave. Had it been like this for
the entire two hour trip to St Andrew's I suspect the novelty would have
rapidly worn off as this kind of driving involves enormous amounts of
concentration when you don't actually have that much experience driving boats
and, even when done well, it's not a particularly comfortable way to
travel. As we rounded the point and the
angle of the waves changed so that they were coming from behind us, Ernie
admitted that he was feeling rather queasy so we switched drivers, in the hope
that if he had to concentrate on driving he might forget to feel ill. Luckily this worked surprisingly well and the
rest of the trip out was uneventful.
 |
| Penguins coming to check us out |
 |
| So many penguins |
I can't
remember whether I've mentioned the fact that penguins smell before, but they
do.
A colony of something in the region
of a quarter of a million birds smells so much that we were alerted to their
presence about two miles out.
As we got
closer to the shore and were able to make out individual penguins the scale of
it all became apparent, and I for one just stared in wonder as the black, white
and fluffy brown beach moved and squawked.
Unfortunately, the hut is several hundred meters from the shore and boat
suits are entirely unsuitable for wandering around in, particularly if you are
carrying heavy boxes.
When we arrived at
the hut with the first load (having just about survived the fur seal gauntlet)
I was of the strong opinion that I might actually die from heat
exhaustion.
More loads were hauled up
the beach and the rubbish taken back down to the waiting RIB.
I actually did some vaguely medical work and
replaced the out of date medical kit with new and shiny stuff and then it was
time to get back on the boats for the journey home.
Sadly there wasn't enough time to go and
explore the colony properly, but I have no doubt that I'll make it back there
on foot in the near future.
Getting back
to base before it got dark was really quite important and even I was willing to
prioritise this over spending time with the penguins!
Unfortunately we did manage to get the RIB decidedly
stuck on the beach thanks to a very annoyingly placed shelf of gravel.
After an awful lot of swearing, grunting,
pushing, pulling, bouncing, rocking and shouting, Sue, Ella and I eventually managed
to get it floating again.
Having ended
up immersed to well above waist height in rather chilly water, I was happy to discover
that my boat suit is indeed waterproof – always good to know.
Once that excitement was over we just had
time for a quick drive-by of the colony to fully appreciate its size before
setting off for home.
The plan was to
check out a few bays along the way to familiarize ourselves with the area, just
in case we ever have to do any search and rescue type stuff nearby.
The waves appeared to be doing crazy things
and the whole wave-riding thing was generally unsuccessful as I couldn't work
out which direction they were actually coming from.
However, I somehow managed to not lose Ernie
overboard, despite a less than smooth ride (including some inadvertent air-time),
and we eventually made it in to Ocean Harbour.
As well as an awful lot of kelp, Ocean Harbour is home to the wreck of the
Bayard (a 67m long, 1300 ton,
iron-hulled, three-masted sailing vessel built in 1864) which in turn acts as home
to many, many birds and seemingly quite a lot of tussock grass.
After that little detour the fog came in, it
all got a bit more serious and further exploration of bays was deemed to be a
bad idea.
In the end it turned out to be
a relatively small band of fog which we passed through in about ten minutes but,
when the land disappeared and we had to stick closely to the wake of the
jetboat in order not to lose it (and all its exciting navigational gadgets), I
will admit that I felt more than a little twitchy.
Once through the fog the rest of the trip
home went smoothly and I slept ridiculously well that night.
I genuinely never knew that driving a boat
could be quite so tiring!
 |
| The Bayard resting in Ocean Harbour |
No comments:
Post a Comment