Migration Week

This was a week of massive coming and going. We lost 10 people from base and have gained an entire rat eradication team of 20 people and 3 helicopters. For the second week in a row we thought that we might have a chance at a quiet one and yet again our thoughts were found to be incorrect. On Monday we had an exhilarating trip round into West Cumberland Bay to Carlitta. There we were picking up Martin who had walked over from Husvik, giving the soil beakers a chance to collect some samples and then we were taking them to Harpon to be dropped off for the night. 

The conditions we were in were interesting. I say ‘interesting’ to describe borderline weather when writing to my mother but unfortunately she has deciphered my code and now can get slightly nervous when I email her describing interesting weather. Through my service with the lifeboats I have become used to dealing with interesting weather but normally I am in a boat that is 2m longer and has 60 more horse power than the RIBs we work with here. It was quite illuminating to see the difference that 2m and a little extra power can make to the comfort of a passage. Of course it was never dangerous. We would not go out in anything dangerous. We knew it was a little gusty but Paula and I discussed it and decided that we were happy with it. In the afternoon we had to pick up four guys who were on the Barff and that also involved some interesting weather and two interesting transfers from the RIB (which we use to pick people up from shore) to the jet boat but  apart from Joe (the sparky) being slightly nervous all was fine and we made it home for tea and medals. It is remarkable how tiring driving in those conditions can be but it was great fun. 

The chaps we had picked up from the Barff were all Norwegians working on a project here and the night after they arrived they concocted a feast for the entirety of the base. It was slow roasted reindeer (at 70’C for 16 hours) with potatoes, veg and ‘brown sauce’ (gravy with cream). It was one of the most delicious meals I have ever had and it was made all the better by the wonderful weather we had after the wet misery of the day before. 

On Thursday we went for the second Fur seal pup weighing. This was exactly the same as last month’s except that the pups were bigger, feistier and better at hiding. Luckily we had a big team and we managed to do it fairly quickly but wandering around the beach were some rather large males who seemed to take exception to our trying to weigh pups, even if they weren’t theirs. Then once we had caught our 50 from the beach we moved into the tussac which always to me feels like wading into a jungle with no idea of what exactly you will find in there. One of the pitfalls (quite literally) of tussac grass is the trenches and wallows that if you are not careful you can find yourself up to your waist in. I was fortunate that the Ellie wallow that I managed to find had recently been vacated by its owner, I am not sure that the Ellie would have appreciated my stepping on her back, I might have smelt a little better though. 

Puppy exploring the boatshed

It's been a long day

On our way to the weighing beach we had to pass Puppy Lake and it truly lived up to its name. When you go to Maiviken you descend through scree to the hut and then you leave the hut behind and drop into the bowl of Maiviken itself. Dropping into here is like dropping into the Lost World. After the scree you have just traversed it is lush and green with bunches of tussac perfect for velociraptors to come running at you out of. Except that it is not velociraptors but Fur seals. The pups are so sweet. They try to be so big, bad and fierce and they sometimes growl at you so hard that they fall over. It is wonderful but rather primal walking through this sometimes neck high tussac with growls reaching you from unseen ‘beasts’ from every angle. As we walked past Puppy Lake you could see from a distance that the surface of the water was seething and boiling. When we got closer it turned out to be hundreds upon hundreds of pups playing and gambolling in the water, learning to become the flashes of silver that are their parents at sea. 

Puppy Lake

We finished pup weighing and had a typically British picnic with us all sitting on the beach in the sun and spitting rain, surrounded by slightly pissed off Fur seals, every so often bracing against gusts of wind that were up to about 50kt (a hurricane is 64kts) which would fling hail and spray painfully at us and annoyingly whip up the few crisps that we were sharing and blow them into the bog. It seemed completely normal but when I think back on it was slightly surreal. 

On Friday the mass exodus commenced with 10 pax (passengers) being taken by the JCR (James Clark Ross, one of the BAS ships). All the met beakers (weather scientists) and the soil beakers left, as did our beakers’ boss, Mark Belchier, and another chap who had come down to help with the groundfish survey. We then took two of the Norgies (Norwegians) back to the Barff. We slowly picked our way through the brash ice that had formed from the breakup of some of the icebergs that have blown in over the past month or so. One thinks that an iceberg is white until you see the cracks that run deep into its middle which are a deep, rich blue and then you see a snow petrel fly in front of the berg and while you would think that they would be the same colour this one snow petrel was picked out with perfect clarity against the almost blinding white. While making our way through the ice we suddenly spotted a Leopard seal. These are vagrants in these waters but they can be seen lying up on ice floes (as this one was) close to the glacier. We edged closer to have a look. I was in the 5.5m RIB and it was quite a shock when we realised that this animal was probably about 4m long. It wasn’t bothered by us at all and would slowly raise its almost reptilian looking head and look at us and the look that it gave us was slightly chilling because it was one of a predator that knew no matter what happened, it was top dog and we could never even come close to it in power. I am very pleased to have seen one but I am rather glad that, feisty and vicious though they can be,  we have Fur seals as the main residents on the island and not Leopard seals.

After the massive high seeing that Leopard seal gave us (Paula and I commented on how we actually get paid to see such sights) things came back down to normality on Saturday when Paula and I got up at 0530 to get one of the jetboats out of the water to service her. It always seems in the boating world that the tide that you need is at silly o' clock but we were more than compensated by the incredibly beautiful light on the hills behind Grytviken and the clarity of the air. Any time that I am up around 0600 here I have always noticed that the weather is at its best. Whether that is because the clouds haven’t formed because the land is cold, or for some other reason, it definitely makes getting up at that time worth it.

Early morning light from the boatshed

Prion on her trailer

We worked solidly on the jetboat all day, pausing only to take the other two Norgies to Jason Harbour in West Cumberland bay. It is an incredibly beautiful place and I am only sad that it is not within our travel limits because I would love to wander around there and explore the place a little. Hazel topped the day off with a fantastic Saturday meal of sweet potato and coconut soup, lamb tagine with couscous and brandy snaps with ice cream, tinned peach slices and raspberry coulis. It was glorious. 

Sunday was yet another early start for me since I was on earlies but also for the rest of the base since the Ernest Shackleton (or the Shack, the other BAS ship) came in at 0600 with the Habitat Restoration project aboard. This project is also affectionately known as ‘team rat’. They are here to eradicate rats on South Georgia. By doing so they will greatly increase the population of all birds on the island (since rats eat bird eggs and chicks) and they will restore the island to a condition that it has not seen since the first rat came ashore (possibly with Captain Cook). It is an ambitious plan and South Georgia is the largest island on which rat eradication has ever been attempted. They are chartering the Shack for a couple of weeks to depot gear all over the island in field camps. There are about 20 people who have come down as volunteers including 4 helicopter pilots, helicopter mechanics, 3 chefs, mapping and GIS guys and a whole team of general workers who will mainly be refilling the large bait hoppers that are underslung from the helicopters. It was very impressive to see three helicopters craned out from the bowls of the ship, the blades put on and half an hour later to see them taking off and buzzing around Mount Duse, which more usually has albatrosses circling its peak. 

Alpha Sierra

This is going to be a busy period for the whole island. There will be no bait dropped on Thatcher peninsula since it was cleared 2 years ago but the rest of the island to the north will be alive with the sound of choppers baiting all hours of the day. More prosaically for us, next week will involve launching Prion again on Monday morning and bringing Pipit out for her service which will hopefully be done before Wednesday when we have the last day of tide in which we can get them in and out of the water. Perhaps after Wednesday Paula and I can get some sleep. Somehow I think that the world outside my window will call too loudly for me to waste time sleeping and I will use my down time to explore further afield