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

Hestesletten of Mt Paget (2915m) and Mt Sugartop (2325m.) in the Allardyce
Range.
In fine weather, from April/May to September/October it was an idyllic place
but during the whaling and sealing season, October to April, particularly when
whales were aplenty, the factory belched smoke and steam, and noxious smells
were common, though usually ignored as we became accustomed to them. Then it
was a hellish place with whale oil droplets and sooty particles born in the steam in
the air, flames belching from the smithy and the water in the cove surfaced with
noisome oil, blood and grax from the whales. One could stand at the slipway and
see little of one’s surroundings. A few whale carcasses would be floating at the
buoys, pecked at by the black and white dominican gulls, and a line of battered
old catchers moored to the jetty until they set off again after whales. The beautiful
surrounding environment was often hidden from sight and mechanical sounds
drowned out the bird calls.
I couldn’t help thinking how different it was from the rest of the island and
from the peaceful, unspoiled environment of Signy Island experienced during the
previous years. Yet the impact of the whaling operations was relatively limited in
time. Twenty five years later, biochemical studies of the sediments in the cove
showed that bacteria had broken down the oil and organic matter in the cove,
organisms were recolonizing the sea floor. Kelp was growing back, although the
shore line still was covered in a thick layer of thick oil and tar. The same studies
showed that the extent of serious pollution was limited to the environs of the cove
itself. Outside of it the enormous impact of the whaling operations appeared to be
largely reversible in a few decades.
The pattern of my life at South Georgia now became fairly settled. I was
usually out every other day, depending on the weather. It was very busy during
the summer but once the seals began leaving for their winter foraging at sea, there
was not a great deal of urgent work to keep me busy. My usual field day in
summer was to row across the bay in the morning to Hestesletten. There I would
count seal occasionally shoot duck for the pot, or just to get exercise. Often I took
the whole day counting the seals, sometimes killing and examining one or two for
data and specimens in connection with my research. Often in the afternoon I was
engaged in writing, or examined and analyzed the material collected, and time
passed all too quickly. The evenings usually went very rapidly, writing or
drawing or perhaps dissecting specimens.
On 17 March 1951 Arthur and I rowed, first time for me, to Hestesletten. It is a
very flat, low-lying, moraine plain, bounded by a high ridge to the north and by a
low-lying moraine ridge to the south, beyond which lies Discovery Point and
Moraine Fjord. To the west are two glacier lakes and then the land climbs steeply
to a hanging glacier and thence to Mt Sugartop (7,623 ft). Behind the beach there
is a strip of tussock grass of varying width, but on average about 20 yards wide,
dotted with wallows and pools caused by the activities of the elephant seals
during the moulting season. A small hut stood between two small but
conspicuous crags at the north end of this beach and near it Penguin River entered
the sea. The beach itself was of boulders and pebbles and landing was usually
difficult because of the surf.
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