Position: 51:49.56S 058:58.27W
Date: 30 November 2011
We
were hoping to set sail today for the next 60-mile hop south west down the
coast, but the forecast was grim: south west F7 to F8 (gale force) occasionally
F9 (strong gale), i.e. blowing old boots directly from the direction we wanted
to go. It was a no-brainer. We were stormbound and we would be staying another
day in Goose Green, tucked up safely on the jetty. We were not particularly
concerned by this setback. Goose Green was a delightful place; much better
weather was forecast for a few days after the gale, and we had factored in the
inevitability of being holed up for a few days due to adverse winds.
Yesterday afternoon Colin came round with a Land Rover to
take us on a tour of the San Carlos and Goose Green battle sites and the war
memorials. Driving on the rough roads through the spectacular terrain
reminiscent of the north of Scotland, we looked down from the hills over San
Carlos Water (otherwise known as “Bomb Alley”) where the fleet of the British
Task Force landed the British forces to recapture the islands in 1982. We then
went to the graveyard where the fallen Argentine troops are buried. Surprisingly
it was much grander and, even more surprisingly, in better condition than the
memorials and graves of the fallen British soldiers. We stood in sad reflection
of the meaningless loss of life of this conflict on both sides. Sadly, many of
the graves were unmarked, the identity of the occupants being known only to
God.
We
visited the memorial to three members of the 59 Independent Commando Squadron,
Royal Engineers. Behind the memorial was an ammunition box in which there were
some empty rifle cartridges and, poignantly, a little plaque on which was
engraved: “To Mike. Visited you December 1910. I will love you always.
Gill”.
We
then drove to the spot where Colonel “H” Jones VC was killed, marked by a small
memorial. A few yards away was a dug out hollow in the hill in which was the
Argentine machine gun crew that mowed Jones down as he charged over the crest of
the hill in front of them. Given the lie of the land, a full frontal assault on
the line of dug-in Argentine troops was exceedingly difficult and it is
remarkable that the number of casualties was not very much higher than it
was.
A
couple of miles further on a lovely spot overlooking the rolling pasture is the
memorial to the men of 2 Para, surrounded by a white picket fence. The fence is
deteriorating and needs maintenance and a good paint. Shamefuly, neither the
British War Graves Commission nor the Falklands government seem willing to take
responsibility for it, so Colin said that he and some of his mates will just
come out and sort it out themselves.
Finally, we visited the single grave of Nick Taylor, the
Royal Navy Air Squadron Harrier pilot who crashed and died very near the Goose
Green settlement. Behind his headstone are some bent and tangled scraps from his
plane.
Colin was incredibly knowledgeable about the campaign and
was constantly stopping to point out the positions of the opposing forces and
describing the difficulties they each faced. The whole thing was a very moving
experience.
In
the evening both Colin and Jackie the teacher came to the boat for dinner. As if
he hadn’t done enough, Colin brought with him as a present to the boat a wooden
bowl which he had turned from a fallen timber from the “Vicar of Bray” the
famous wrecked ship that lies rotting behind the jetty. It is the only remaining
wreck of a ship involved in the Californian Goldrush of 1849. It was an
incredibly generous gesture and I will treasure the bowl as a wonderful memento
of our visit here.
Jackie told us that her school children, and those from
Stanley who were visiting, were to receive a visit today from Mr Greenland, a
local historian who would tell them all about life in Goose Green at the time of
the invasion. Kindly, Jackie thought to ask us to come along as well. Mr
Greenland’s talk was fascinating describing, amongst many other things, the
conditions of the inhabitants held captive in the Community Hall (no talk to
young children is complete without some scatological reference, so when told
that all the imprisoned locals had to eat for over a month were tinned tomatoes
and crackers which gave everyone the squits, and there were only two loos for
the 120 or more prisoners, the young eyes were wide open). The talk was made all
the more immediate by there being several children there whose parents and
grandparents were amongst the captives. When Major Chris Keeble with a weakened
force of barely 200, with almost no ammunition left, bluffed the Argentine
commander of almost 1000 well fed troops to surrender, they placed the Argentine
troops into the large shearing shed (once the largest and still the second
largest shearing shed in the world) which to this day still has “P.O.W.” and
“P.G.” (the Spanish equivalent) painted in large white letters on the outside to
protect the Argentine prisoners in the event of further attacks.
Jackie had also told me that one of her pupils was very
interested in weather and had been collecting and analysing weather data at
Goose Green and comparing it to other places where local people had gone to work
around the world. Jackie asked me if I could talk to her about why weather was
important to sailors. So I spent a happy half hour telling delightful 7year old
Kia (I hope I’ve spelt your name right, because I know you’ll be reading this!)
about how wind doesn’t go in a straight line but in enormous swirling circles
which changes the direction of the wind, why it was important to us when we were
sailing, and I took my computer along to show her some grib files to show her
how we could see what weather was coming our way and how it swirled round. Kira
was polite enough to feign interest.
However, Jackie’s greatest gift to us was the use of her
bath and shower. We have limited supplies of water on board to keep us going for
about a month, so showers are strictly limited. Jackie cannot know how much we
appreciated a luxuriating soak when you hadn’t had a good wash for over a
week!
Meanwhile. Linda has been busy, needles flying, knitting
a little polar outfit for Able Seadog Snoopy, Ship’s Mascot. He now sits
resplendent in our “Vicar of Bray” bowl with smart two-tone gloves for his paws
and a seaman’s sweater, all knitted from Falklands wool. He looks the biz, and
he knows it.
