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

There was not too much to do and I began a painting - of a Weddell seal at its
blowhole from an earlier sketch. I was finding it difficult to settle to anything just
then.
By 10 November we were steaming southwards off the coast of Portugal,
probably just west of Lisbon. So I reflected that I was somewhere near the spot where
I first met Maureen on the Andes! It was very warm although we weren't anywhere
near the tropics and all my good resolutions about work were fading rapidly. It
seemed such a waste to be down there in the lab, under electric lights when up on
deck the sun was beating down and there was a fresh breeze, blue sea and sky and
white foam of the ship's bow wave. I love being at sea, but it makes me very lazy.
We had a film that night - very funny at the time - "Who Goes There?" Soon we
would be watching others out on deck under the stars. There was a silver sickle of a
new moon shining on the water with a path of silver leading to it across the water.
It had been very warm those last few days and I sunbathed for an hour one
afternoon, as we were approaching Madeira. The best place to be was on top of the
‘monkey island’ (above the bridge). First we saw Ilha de Porto Santo - the most
northerly - and then we were passing Funchal on Madeira itself about four miles to
starboard. It is a lovely island, with terraces up to the tops of the hills and hundreds
of little white houses gleaming in the sun. Some local fishing boats were about too -
the ones with the triangular sails. I supposed they were to the same design as the
Lisbon boats. Shearwaters, gulls and a few land birds accompanied us. Then clouds
obscured the sun and we went in again. The previous night we had seen a
remarkable display of bioluminescence, the sea shining jade-green and so bright one
could read by it. The bow wave of the ship looked like molten metal except that it
was green instead of red - the most startling effect of this kind that I had seen.
On the morning of 13 November we saw the island of Palma, Canary Islands, on
our port beam. We were told that there would probably be a mail opportunity from
St. Vincent so letters had to be written. The weather was getting really warm and
damp, with air temperatures over 80°F and the humidity about 75%. We were now
well over 2,000 miles from the U.K. and steaming on at a steady l3 knots.
One night there was a fine display of summer lightning, St Elmo's fire - an electric
blue – caused by static electricity and on the morning of l6 November I was up at 5.30
am as we moved slowly and majestically into St. Vincent anchorage. This volcanic
island is very jagged and rocky - red rock - and it seemed to be glowing in the heat of
the sun. At the entrance to the bay there is a jagged rocky island with a light on its
summit and a coastguard station. St. Vincent itself straggled along the shore of the
bay, shimmering in the heat. They get very little rain - last time I was there they
hadn't had rain for seven years! Most of the water supply comes from another island
in tankers. There we were stuck in the middle of the bay with two oil barges
alongside, refueling us, pouring out black oily smoke which enveloped the after part
of the ship. One firm of traders was selling bananas, oranges, coconuts and a few
very shoddy souvenirs, and there were black police and port officials on board (also
selling souvenirs!).
In the morning we had lifeboat drill, which involved mustering at the lifeboat
stations, while the boats were launched. But it took over three-quarters of an hour
before the first boat was in the water; then the engines of the motorboats wouldn't
start! This inefficiency didn't augur very well for a real emergency, particularly in
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