Position: 51:51.36S 058:54.6W
Date: 28 November 2011
Time: 1515 LT 1815 UTC
During our five days in Stanley (well, four days if you
exclude our day at anchor), we’ve met a large number of people. All incredibly
friendly, welcoming and helpful. The population of the Falklands has risen to
about 3,000, of which only about 200 now live in the “camp” in the countryside
as, principally, wool sheep farmers. The rest live in Stanley itself. The town
straggles along the south side of the very well protected harbour. Most of the
houses are wood framed, clad with wood or metal and all have corrugated iron
roofs. There is only one terrace of brick built houses (all the bricks had to be
imported). Jubilee Terrace was built in 1887 but they too also have corrugated
iron roofs all painted in bright colours.
One
thing that is conspicuous by its absence is any sort of High Street with shops.
Most basic things are available, although almost all imported from the UK but
the retail outlets, few that they are, tend to be located in a warehouse in a
backstreet. What Stanley does have in quantity is pubs – we had six to choose
from. There was a brewery here – The Penguin Brewery – which John’s company
built, but it has now closed down, so the pubs now sell only bottled
beer.
Meals can be found at some of the pubs but the only
proper restaurant in town is the Malvina House Hotel, where the food is really
excellent.
Right on the waterfront behind Mina2’s mooring lies the
Anglican cathedral built at the end of the 19th century, but there is
also a Catholic church, a Tabernacle United Free church and even the Johovah’s
Witnesses have a place here.
The
landscape is barren and windswept. And the weather – oh dear, oh dear. We are
now in the northern equivalent of late May and the daytime temperature has
rarely risen above about 12 C. At night it drops to no more than a chilly 5 or 6
C. But what makes it seem even colder is the relentless wind. The Falklands are
round the corner from Cape Horn and succession after succession of deep, tight
low pressure systems sweep past Cape Horn passing south of the Falklands. So
generally there is a very stiff, cold wind that can come at you from almost any
direction. These weather systems are travelling so quickly that in the space of
a few hours the wind can completely box the compass. And talk about changeable.
One minute there are scuddy clouds interspersed with rays of sunshine, the next
moment a black cloud is rushing towards you with torrential rain and the already
high wind speed doubles in the squalls that accompany them. If the sun-loving
Argentines were ever successful in taking the islands over, they would be
deserted within a couple of years.
And
talking of the Argentines, the conflict of 1982 and their poor relationship with
their neighbours is always at the forefront of the Falklanders’ minds. Since the
bombastic Christine Kirchner became President of Argentina she has slowly
imposed what amounts to an embargo on the Falklands. There have not been any
direct flights from Argentina for a while. The Falklands used to get a monthly
ship of supplies from Chile, but Argentina have now banned Chilean ships from
sailing to the Falklands through the Beagle Channel (half owned by Chile and
Argentina). Likewise they effectively ban ships from sailing from Uruguay to the
Falklands through what Argentina claims to be their territorial waters, so now
almost everything has to be shipped from the UK. But the Falklanders survive –
that is what they are good at. They are a lively community of tough but
enormously friendly people, and they are thriving.
We
had been intending to leave Stanley on Sunday to head south about the islands,
first to Goose Green up the Choiseul Sound and the sight of one of the big
battles of the ’82 conflict. In the event the winds were so strong all day even
by the ferocious standards here, that we left this morning at first light at
0430. Sadly the wind direction was bang on the noise, and to enable us to go the
65 miles to Goose Green before the next gale of wind arrives this afternoon, we
have been motoring virtually the whole way. Th.e real wildlife adventure starts
when we get to West Falklands but nevertheless we have been escorted round to
Goose Green by comical Rock Shags that are so stupid that as they fly close past
us, they turn round to have a look at us and then nearly crash into our rigging,
Megallenic Penguins that bob around in the water around us, and the tiny little
Commerson Dolphins – only about a metre long – that have been playing around our
bow
