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

(formerly to Lever Bros.). The wind howled from the crags behind, rattling the
debris, and the scene was very melancholy; our steps rang hollow in the empty
mess room, once so full of life. When we returned to the boats, their crews were
fishing from the sterns with conspicuous success, bringing up large Notothenia,
South Georgia cod, one after the other, using a lead weight with two unbaited
hooks.
Our engine started with a few turns of the crank handle and we left the dismal
scene – a mass of rusty girders and corrugated iron, with the two catchers belching
black smoke, a smudge against the pristine white slopes behind. Returning to
Albatros in a wide circle, examining the beaches for seal, we counted seventeen
elephant seals, mainly small males – certainly no large animals – and soon
clambered aboard again, glad to be out of the searching wind and snow. We
listened to Radio Oslo until supper, when we had a warm stew and various
Norwegian tinned delicacies. I read Peter Fleming's ‘One's Company’ and then
turned in, hoping for improved weather on the morrow.
When I went on deck next day at 7.15 am we were crossing the Bay of Isles.
Low cloud shut out the view and all that could be seen was a number of grey,
tussac-covered islands, outlined against the white of the glaciers. It was rough and
windy. After breakfast I went up to a seat by the funnel, changing position from
time to time in an effort to escape from the wind, which always found me out.
The Second Mate, Hammarstadt, was there and we had a long talk. He pointed
out the various landmarks, capes, bays and islands, as we passed them and told
me their Norwegian names, which often differed from those on the chart. (The
sealers kept their own charts with sketches and annotations about the details of
landings and anchorages).
In the early days, 18 th and 19 th centuries, the beaches were worked by gangs of
men in small cutters of 30 to 40 tons. These craft, known as ‘shallops’, were built
in South Georgia from materials brought down by the parent vessels. The gangs
returned periodically to their ship, anchored in one of the bays, with loads of skins
and blubber. But in the more inaccessible parts they remained ashore and lived in
rough huts, sometimes throughout the winter. The try-pots of these parties can
still be seen in various parts of the island.
Clubs were used to kill the young, the older seals were lanced and old bulls
were killed when they reared up by firing a musket ball through the palate into
the brain. The blubber was flensed off with the hide, and cut into several strips,
which were left to soak in seawater for twenty-four hours to remove the blood.
The strips were then cut into small pieces and boiled in cast-iron try-pots, which
were mounted on bricks. Often, skins from slaughtered penguins were used to
feed the fire. The pots were arranged in series, and the oil was run into a second
pot after the first boiling, boiled once or twice more, and then run off into casks.
Alternatively, the blubber was tried out aboard the parent vessel.
Now, in the year 1951, we passed Cape Buller, Inhospitable Bay (which amply
justified the name), the tussac-green Welcome Islands, Right Whale Bay, with its
interesting rock formations and rugged Cape North, which came abeam around 9
o’clock. The triangular outline of Bird Island came into sight, with Bernt (one of
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