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

The whaling season had started and we again had the distinctive smell wafting
across to us whenever the wind blew our way. It was not so bad when you got used
to it but we hadn't had time for that yet and it was rather unpleasant. Since the first
ship of the new season came down life had changed slightly. There was a new
manager at the Whaling station, who was very helpful and cooperative.
Consequently my old friend Eskedal was demoted to works manager, which meant
he controlled the engineering and repairs to the catchers. He was very keen to get
some sealskins for his wife, and I helped him to get some skins from leopard seals
which are not fully protected; the Magistrate issued some permits under the
legislation. I took the opportunities to collect biological material from the animals
shot. What he really wanted was some fur seals skins, and as I was the only one
allowed to take them (for scientific purposes), he was full of plans for arranging
another trip for me up to Bird Island in the north west. It didn’t materialise, however,
because I didn’t believe there was a strong enough scientific case for collecting fur
seals.
I have mentioned that the Skuseth's were especial friends of mine. We used to
go out skiing every day in the winter and I used to drop in to their rooms at the
Pesca villa before and after the kino. They invited me to stay with them in Norway,
and I suggested going at Easter l953 when the skiing would be at its best. They were
going to rent a hut up in the mountains, self-contained, so it would be rather like
South Georgia in some ways. Doc was quite a good skier - he came in just behind me
in the race (!) and Fru was not too bad. On our trips Doc and I usually went twice
round the course and made side excursions up the hills while she took the straightest
way.
One day, though blizzarding before breakfast, the day later turned out to be very
fine, so I took my skis, rowed across the bay and skied around counting seals. This
tended to annoy them; the big bulls reared up when I approached so that their head
was about ten or twelve feet off the ground. Then they flopped down and tried to get
their teeth into me - but without success. When this failed, they tried chasing me, and
if I ran around them in circles they tried to follow by pivoting on their middle, so
that they looked like a huge rocking horse. They soon got tired of hurling their
weight around and then were reduced to roaring at me. Their mouth is very large
and red and it can be quite irresistible to throw stones into it, rather like a fairground
game. If a stone went in they assumed an expression of great surprise and quickly
spat it out with great force. Surprising what one did for amusement there and
reprehensible; this was almost a sport with the sealers. It was very warm in the sun
so I found a dry spot and basked for an hour before turning back.
That evening I went over to see the Skuseths, and we made a night of it. At least
Doc and I did, while Fru, who was recovering from a bad attack of urticaria (a rash
caused by food poisoning) sat up in bed and watched us enviously. Doc made some
rather good synthetic liqueurs from puro (near absolute strength ethyl alcohol) and
various essences. We had run out of better stuff!
Did I think that I would be back in Europe by Xmas? If so it was a miscalculation
for it now looked like being mid-February or thereabouts at the earliest. I hoped to
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