Part I: Seals teeth and whales ears - Scott Polar Research Institute ...

a grazing tussock beetle was the culprit). The weather improved and with
scarcely a ripple on the water we passed into Ajax Bay in the evening sunshine.
The rolling green uplands and blue mountains made a perfect setting for a
settlement, but one's first impression of Ajax Bay was a shambles of rusting
machinery, timber, and empty drums. We were carrying some equipment and
stores for the project, which were ferried ashore on a pontoon. Like the South
Atlantic Sealing Company this was a CDC scheme, financed by British
taxpayers’ money. It was a very ambitious undertaking - to provide a freezer
facility for the mutton carcasses to cut out the need for sea transport to
Patagonia, where the nearest freezers - frigorificos - were. The equipment was
good, though wasting, and the well-constructed, pre-fabricated houses were
palatial. We spent the evening ashore, drinking and talking with Mills,
Metcalfe and Gilpin and I had a long chat with young Charlie Skilling, a good
Falkland Island friend who had wintered with me on Signy Island in 1949, and
now had a job at Ajax Bay. He had seen a few seals there, including a leopard
seal and an elephant seal.
Next morning we didn’t get up until 7.45 am and had an idle morning,
while crushed stone was loaded; Mills and Venters came aboard for further
talk. We were not able to get away until early afternoon as it was decided to
take some barrels of cement as well as the gravel which it took a long time to
hoist aboard - losing two in the process. It looked very black over Fanning
Head, but once outside in the Sound the skies brightened as we headed
southwest towards Port Howard. We passed Cat Island, which Tilbury
claimed to have searched for seal, without success. The North West Islands
looked quite promising hauling out grounds for seals and would probably
have been worth a visit; they are low and flat, like so many of the islands in the
Sound.
The mountainous coastline of West Falkland drew nearer and I likened the
approach to the Skye crossing. We saw a number of whales spouting and as
we drew nearer to Port Howard fierce ‘williewaws’ (‘woollies’ to the seamen),
whipped up the sea surface into pillars and whirls of spray, looking like giant
whale spouts. As we passed through the narrows into Port Howard I looked
back, to see the cloud-capped hills of East Falkland changing abruptly near
Port Sussex, to the very low-lying country of the southern region, known as
Lafonia. Ahead was a ridge about 700 ft high with a serrated rocky crest.
Behind it lay Port Howard and then rugged mountains, or rather hills, swathed
in thick cloud. This coastal ridge extends for many miles to the South.
We came alongside at 4.30 pm in a strong wind, which meant that we had
to drop the anchor, swing with the wind, move in towards the jetty and then
warp the ship in by means of ropes fore and aft. Several people were on the
jetty to meet us: Douglas Evans, William Clements (Managers of Port Howard
and Fox Bay respectively), and old Mr Evans. It was a well laid out station,
very neat and tidy, with gardens enclosed by gorse hedges and a good road.
The houses were scattered, but the manager lived near the shore and most of
the houses were there. At the house I met Brook Hardcastle, Bob, the Cadet
Manager and the Douglas family. We had a very good dinner and there was
much talk. Old Mr Evans and Wick Clements had many interesting stories of
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