Trendy Stanley in the Falkland Islands
Caramor - sailing around the world
Franco Ferrero / Kath Mcnulty
Fri 18 Dec 2015 01:59
How times have changed! No sign of mutton on any menu here! The Globe pub still exists but is now surrounded by cafés and bars, including the most southern LGB bar in the world, serving top quality cappuccino coffees, posh cakes and tapas. Stanley Stanley is the capital and only town of the Falkland Islands. The majority of the islands' population of 3,140 lives here. The Falkland Islands make Uruguay feel crowded! Over half the size of Wales but with a thousand times fewer people. The archipelago is made up of two main islands and many tiny outliers. West Falkland which accounts for nearly half the land mass has just 120 inhabitants. We have been here just one week, every car driver waves and everywhere we go we bump into friends we have made since we got here. It's a friendly place with very low crime rates, the court cases reported in the local newspaper 'Penguin News' are mostly to do with young men, alcohol and Saturday nights. Carl, Dianne and Franco Dianne and Carl are the volunteer Port Officers for the Ocean Cruising Club. They came to meet us on the public jetty where we had to sign in. They told us about their private marina 'Maiden Haven', a 'hole' they have dug in the shoreline where they and a few friends keep their boats and invited us to join them. It is very sheltered and we could safely leave Caramor here for several days if we wanted to, a much better option than being anchored in the 'harbour' (a sea loch) at the mercy of the weather. Maiden Haven The weather deserves a few words, possibly not very polite words. It is mid summer here, the equivalent of mid-June in the northern hemisphere and we are wearing ski-touring kit (thermal underwear, fleece jumper, windproof layer, waterproof top and bottom, hat and gloves) just to cycle the two kilometres into town. The temperature has been dropping to below zero on some nights with ice on the decks. The wind varies between 'not a puff' to 'gale force' within seconds, with very little in between. Occasionally the sun comes out, casting beauty over the landscape and luring us into a false sense of summer. Cautiously we step outside, only to be battered by hail stones a few moments later. The tourist brochures says about the weather: "The Falklands are as close to the South Pole as London is to the North Pole. On average, the Falklands are cooler than London in the summer, but warmer in the winter. Summer is a wonderful time, with long daylight hours similar to England's southern coastal regions. Summer temperatures reach the mid 20sC." - Well not this week, they haven’t. So if we aren't eating mutton, what are we eating? Fancy fish platters, crostinis, lemon meringue pie, and all day breakfasts! There are two large supermarkets offering a large selection, including Waitrose, Suma and other well-known UK brands, though many items are out of date. We are stocking up on Heinz Baked Beans and chutneys which aren't available in South America. Fresh food is hard to come by, for five days I searched for bananas, none were to be found then suddenly they appeared in every store ... priced £1 per banana! I discovered a large fridge full of marscarpone cheese. I was very excited, just what I needed to make a tiramisu for our cockpit party, if a little surprised it hadn't all been snapped up ages ago. On closer inspection, it was past its sell by date (by several months) but the seal was intact. When I opened the pack, the texture was granular, as if at some time in its long life it had been frozen. We called the result "Falkland marine tiramisu" (marine because the alcohol was rum instead of Marsala wine). Nobody complained. Our first party as Rear Roving Comodores! Franco, Dianne, Carl, Jan, Cecilia (Yacht Lady Free from Norway) and Ted (Yacht Denique, NZ) Kath, Bob (Falklands Sailing Club), Leneke (Yacht Denique, NZ) and Janet (FSC) The war certainly put the Falkland Islands on the world map. Soon afterwards wool prices dropped reducing the profitability of the farms. As a result the largest landowner, the Falkland Island Company started selling off some of its less productive real estate while around the same time its trade monopoly came under scrutiny. The system up until then had been semi-feudal with the company controlling the land, employment, and all food shops on the island and most other businesses. Farm managers were very powerful, they decided whether you worked, where you lodged, had sway over which children pursued their education and which didn't. In those days, elderly people from 'camp' (the countryside - everywhere which isn't Stanley) retired to the town where the medical services were slightly better. Camp was where work was, where you could earn a living. Today Stanley is where you live if you want to make money! Most weeks see the arrival of one or two cruise ships which disgorge up to several thousand passengers for the day. They certainly help keep the economy ticking over. But relying on cruise ships for your income is a fickle business as it is so weather dependent. We arrived in Stanley just behind the "small" cruise ship Hanseatic. The 40 knot winds were too strong for the ship to pass through the narrows into the harbour. The Captain stood off over night and was able to enter the following morning. Our Swiss friends from Piriapolis Ruedi and Cristina were less lucky. They are travelling on a larger ship due to arrive last Thursday and we were hoping to meet up. That morning the local radio announced that the ship would not be entering the harbour because of the gale force winds, and off it went! The local radio makes for great listening, in addition to the daily anagram, the presenter reads out the passenger list for the flights and the ferry between the islands. As George from Georgia (Russian, not South), the Stanley cab driver said: "its friendly and everyone knows everybody's business”. On our crossing from Uruguay, we passed many fishing boats and heard Chinese voices on the VHF radio. One man sounded very angry but we couldn't understand what he was saying. At one point we were on a collision course with one of these trawlers. We radioed to ask them what their intentions were but never received an answer. We thought it possible that nobody on board could understand English (which is the international maritime language). Most of the boats are from Asia (Taiwan and Vietnam) and are fishing for squid. The fishing process is semi-automated so most of the jobs onboard are to do with fish packing. The fishing licences money is extremely important to the Falklands as it pays for all the services provided here; the hospital, the schools, the government. Everyone we have met is aware of this and disturbed that conditions on some of these boats is close to slavery. Many of the sailor/fishermen have not stepped off the boat for two years and sometimes they are fed poorly and treated badly. It is not surprising that occasionally some will (literally) jump ship as it is leaving Stanley harbour. Survival time in the water is 11 minutes. Few make it alive. Stanley's population is surprisingly diverse with people from all over the world (though not too many from Argentina) which makes for a pleasant atmosphere; locals (descended from Scots, English, Irish colons who came here in the early 19th century), 'contractors' (mostly from the UK or New Zealand who are here on Government contracts for two or three years), Philippinos, Chileans, Chinese who work in the restaurants and hotels, George and his sister from Russia, my Indian friend from Norwich who is a nurse at the hospital, and at the moment a large team from Zimbabwe who have been clearing land mines. At the excellent Historic Dockyard Museum, we got chatting with the two lovely ladies who sell the tickets: "Yesterday three Argies came in here. They weren't pleasant, their behaviour was threatening. They were demanding to pay in Argentinian pesos!" We never did find out what happened, but my guess is the three Argentinians are buried somewhere under the building. Do not mess with a Falkland Island woman. Argentinians are taught at school that the Falkland Islands belong to Argentina and are Spanish speaking. Those who travel here are in for a shock. You don't get more British than the Falklands; Tetley tea, mince pies, cheddar cheese, the pantomime, driving on the left and a particular sense of humour. . |