Sheep outnumber people 200 to 1 and I dare say penguins outnumber sheep in this British Overseas Territory known as the Penguin Capitol of the World. It is 300 miles east of Argentina and comprised of West Falkland, East Falkland, and 776 smaller islands. The Falklands are self governing, but the United Kingdom takes responsibility for their defense and foreign affairs. About 3,700 hearty folk call these islands home, an eight percent increase from the last census. They are primarily native-born and of British descent, but foreign immigrants are on the increase. The official language is English, no surprise since Falkland Islanders are British citizens.

We were supposed to spend yesterday on West Point Island, one of the mini-Falklands off the northwest coast of West Falkland. The island was founded as a sheep farm in 1879. The founder’s great-nephew and his wife own the entire island now and oversee the farm today. Don’t ya know they hated to miss hosting us? Weather has been chasing us since yesterday afternoon, so we bypassed West Point Island and headed to tomorrow’s stop: Port Stanley, the capital and largest settlement. It is in East Falklands in more protected waters.

We dropped anchor at sunrise and enjoyed a cloudy, windy day. We were tendered to shore where we disinfected our shoes by stepping in a shallow tray of special solution. We were then free to explore by foot. Mostly wooden structures with colorful metal roofs make up the town which is clean as a whistle. Two things were of particular interest: a whalebone arch made up of two pairs of blue whale jaw bones and the huge mast from what was the largest ship in the world in 1843, the Great Britain, that plied these waters for 80 years! We visited two charming churches, lit a candle for Aunt Jerry, shopped for souvenirs, popped into a distillery, mailed a postcard to each of the grands, and browsed the aisles of a grocery store. The surprise at the grocery store were do-it-yourself dental repair kits for caps, crowns, and lost fillings. The locals were super friendly and helpful. We were two of some 60-70,000 tourists who make their way here each year, primarily during the Southern Hemisphere’s summer.

We joined a small group to explore Gypsy Cove, breeding ground for Magellanic penguins, one of five penguin species that call the islands home. They are referred to by the locals as jack asses because of the braying sound they make when coming in from feeding. Two adjoining beaches, one for breeding pairs and the other for those too young to breed, welcome them back each year. The industrious breeders walk/hop uphill quite a distance to dig burrows in the brush covering the hills. Their eggs hatch there where they are protected from the wind and weather. One parent babysits while the other goes out to sea to feed. We saw a few near their burrows and a few coming in from feeding. They did not seem bothered at all by our presence.

The youngsters on the other beach were way more plentiful and carefree with no responsibilities beyond eating their fill each day. We stayed to the designated path on the bluff, a precaution to keep the animals safe, the burrows undisturbed, and the landscape intact.

Our guide, a fourth generation islander, explained the unusual plants we passed and shared how whalers and explorers used them in the past. I tasted the stem of one flower to find it’s flavor was somewhere between a lemon and a lime. It was used as a source of vitamin C. Berries from the diddle-dee are used today in jams. In fact we just finished the jar that Walter and Cleone brought us from their trip here a couple years ago.

This area is also known for its sea birds. We saw two kinds nesting on the sides of cliffs and on the tops of rocky towers. These must be time tested locations, but they looked awfully precarious to us.

Mid-afternoon we walked back through the shoe solution to get on the tender that took us back to the ship where we enjoyed a relaxing evening and light supper in one of the casual dining restaurants. No sooner were we on board than the captain announced we’d be leaving as soon as everyone was accounted for. Seems the weather we dodged was on our tail again. We were told to expect rough seas most of the night and winds up to 55 miles per hour, normal for this part of the world.

The captain ended the day with what he calls a bad joke, a specialty of his apparently.
What is every parent’s favorite Christmas song?
Answer: Silent Night.

… Penguin News …

We read the local paper, Penguin News, cover to cover.
The front page had three stories and a large color photograph of the Infant Junior School’s production of Lights Camel Action! with a promise of more photos as we turned the pages. The three stories covered an unexploded ordinance suspected to be an anti-tank mine, transport charges for wool and animals from West Falkland, and the need to cancel the Loligo (a member of the squid family) season.

Inside stories covered local sports, harbor water quality (not safe), wool sales, the court, the popularity of one particular local guide, church updates, a wreath laying to commemorate the Battle of the Falklands in 1914, Work Experience Week for year-10 students, the radio program and TV guide, and a comprehensive list of clubs, support groups, and churches.

The story about the 12-mile Three Peaks Challenge was of particular interest to me. Intrepid participants (runners, walkers, and teams) carry 44 pounds up and back down three mountains. There were 251 participants this year. A celebration with awards and food provided by the 2nd Battalion Royal Gurkha Rifles capped off the event. It is sponsored by the Falkland Islands Defense Force.