13. Brief respite

Wednesday 13 April 1988, Port Stanley, Malvina House Hotel

Another day off – I join the Koei Maru tomorrow, a little sooner than expected – I hope I can cope.

Shopped and watched Mad Max 3 and a dreadful film called Spasmo – I only watched half of it, it was so bad.

The West Store, April 1988
The West Store, April 1988

 

Thursday 14 April 1988, Koei Maru 30

And so, after much deliberation, my second term begins. Oh what have I done to deserve this? At least I have some cereal and also my own stocks. My room now is too hot, but I shan’t complain. I wrote a very mizzy letter to Deb, I was mizzy – it is terrible watching the land get smaller and the night come on.

I learned many things today:

  1. KSJ (the fishing company) want an observer to go to Montevideo. This could be me, Crag or John.
  2. the long-lining will begin in June.
  3. This voyage should end in 4-5 weeks.
  4. the KM30 is due to come into Port Stanley or leave on 27 May.

I would love to go to Montevideo, but not at the expense of a holiday home – I just won’t do it. If I could do both – chance would be a fine thing – then it would be very exciting.

Malvina Guest House bill
Malvina Guest House bill

 

Friday 15 April 1988, Koei Maru 30

We are still within sight of land – yahoo – it makes such a difference to me to be able to see the distant islands and mountains, it makes me feel less remote. Jigging was very good last night and the crew are still up. Poor bastards, almost 36 hours of hard physical work without sleep.

Within sight of land
Within sight of land

Talking of sleep, I don’t seem to be able to stop. I drop off at the drop of a hat. It will take a few days and some discipline to get into the sleeping regime of the crew. I suppose the secret is to stay awake later and later each night. It don’t half make you feel lousy though.

Saturday 16 April 1988, Koei Maru 30

I am now waking up around 1.00pm – the sun is up and the sky is blue, but I think we have lost the land.

Each morning there are videos of Japanese T.V. very interesting. Their sense of humour is almost entirely slapstick. Dreadful overacting and tons of commercials, many with western actors. Incredibly sexist, all of it.

While it is still fresh in my mind, I must remember the two children playing snowballs and war in the garden of the Malvina Guest House. They were employing spanish accents and saying things like ‘you dirty eenglish piig’ (being baddies of course). Amazing, the effects of war.

12. Ashore

The digitisation of my Falkland Islands journal from 1988 continues, with the following section, in which I reach Port Stanley after a long maiden voyage on the Japanese squid jigger ‘Koei Maru 30. All sections in italics, like this one, are comments or observations from now. I try to keep these interruptions to a minimum and stick to what the 24 year old me wrote.

JFHR, Callsign of the Koei Maru 30
JFHR, Callsign of the Koei Maru 30

Monday 11 April 1988, Port Stanley, Malvina House Hotel.

I was picked up. My prayers were answered. The ‘Beagle’ came for me at about 3-4pm. I shared the trip with a couple of hospital cases from various ships – one had a badly injured arm and winced every time we hit a bump (frequently). The other just looked unwell.

Koei Maru 30, Squid Jigger
Koei Maru 30, Squid Jigger

The post was fantastic – to hear from Deb and home. Gavin sent the most incredible letter, which was almost word for word the same as mine (to him). We know each other sinisterly well.

e.g. Beard – he asks for a lock – I sent a bit. Stanley jokes, Arsenal jokes, broken computer joke.

Deb’s letters make me very cheerful, and then very sad – I miss her very much.

I was sad – very sad to hear about Great Uncle John – my mother is so good at these times.

I loved John – I have an outstanding memory of him – about 14-15 years ago, when he, grandpa and I went for a sail in the yacht (Henrietta or Nettie Too) and anchored at a beach near St Anthony’s. We swam ashore – I was assisted on John’s back. I will never forget it (and I never have). The clarity of the water, the heat of the day. Two old men and a young boy swimming. On an outing. It makes me cry. Times gone. Poor John.

It is 7.09 am – I woke at 5.30 but at least got a decent 6 1/2 hours sleep – at night!

In the next few days I will have loads of cuttings to put into this diary.

There is so much to talk about, I will try to spread it out over a period of days.

I am staying at the Malvina Hotel (a little expy, but comfortable).

Malvinas House Hotel in 1988
Malvina House Hotel in 1988

I rang Deb – but unfortunately she was out at a film – she will be so disappointed to have missed me. Damn.

Instead I rang home and had a great conversation with Ma and Ad. Ad said that David Copperfield being my favourite book, was the ‘best news I’ve had in twenty years’ – jokingly.

Leaping forward to July 2015 – reflecting back on this journal, this is a deeply poignant passage for me. My stepfather, Ad, has since passed away, but as a father myself now, I realise how proud he must have felt at that moment. I was never one who cared much for literature in my youth, but David Copperfield was a major turning point in my life. Ad had encouraged me for many years to read amazing books, but I resisted his wisdom, feigning interest, but I had much better things to do. I now have the same interactions with my own son, and I realise there is hope, and he will have his ‘Dickens’ moment.

Tuesday 12 April, Port Stanley, Malvina House Hotel.

Worked all day in the office – statolithing loligo with Andrea? one of the school leavers. They are all very chatty and self-confident. They all seem to have this independent streak.

I was up at 2.30 this morning and couldn’t sleep. It is terrible.

Bedroom at Malvina House Hotel, 1988
Bedroom at Malvina House Hotel, 1988

Spoke to Deb on the telephone – it was really good to hear her – she sounded so close. She has sent lots of post and seen my slides – I’m glad she has.

Went to the globe with Crag and met the history and biology teachers from the school – I forget their names, but what a nice couple – completely bonkers. They are actually looking after Andrea at the moment – Stanley is a very small world.

I must mention the sylph-like girl up at Cable and Wireless when I went to phone Deb. She was the first female I have been in any attracted to since I arrived. She reminds me of Deb. Petite, very lively and bouncy, confident and very sweet. I have no designs, but she makes me happy (I’ve only seen her for about five minutes).

11. Land Ho!

Wednesday 6 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

My breakfast (actually yesterday) was steak again, with prawns, chips and macaroni. 3 enormous steaks was all I could manage. I am beginning to tire a little of them, but I do love them so.

The time is going quickly now. The days drift from one into another and I’m sure that in no time at all I shall be home on holiday. I think for me Italy has to be the answer.

I have just eaten a fruit salad that had some peculiar jelly-like cubes in it. They were clear and disintegrated much more easily than jelly. I asked Abe what it was and he said it was made from ‘sea leaf’ so I take it that it is agar gel from seaweed. It was completely tasteless and probably only in the fruit salad as a cheap filler, like sawdust in sausages.

From the same conversation it looks like we will be returning to Stanley on the 9th or 10th of this month – it is good to know that it is sooner rather than later!

Thursday 7 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

I can’t help thinking that my diary and my mind’s capabilities are being severely disrupted by the volume of letters I am writing – they are sapping my inspiration. I also feel cheap because of them – I write many of the same things to people – sometimes using exactly the same words…

e.g. Houses in Stanley – Allotment garden. ‘Well to do’ shanti town.

Reading a great deal – David Copperfield. Theroux.

Zzz snore! – I only hope that those to whom I am writing enjoy the letters I suppose it is better than no letter at all.

Her waggoner, a small grey coated gnat,

Not half so big as a little round worm

Prick’d from the lazy finger of a maid;

Her chariot is an empty hazel nut 

Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub,

Time out o’minds the fairies’ coach makers.

And in this state, she gallops night by night

Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love

O’er courtiers’ knees, that dream on curtsies straight;

O’er lawyers’ fingers, who straight dream on fees;

O’er ladies’ lips, who straight on kisses dream;

Nananuma has been very sweet. He has made an order for cornflakes and milk for the next voyage – what a good bloke.

It is at this moment as I write (10 minutes to 7am) and it is still not light, and very little sign of becoming so.

Friday 8 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

Radioed Crag today – I definitely have a month off in Britain. Much of the conversation was about getting picked up, time in Stanley etc…

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I have talked with the crew much more over the past couple of days. The poor chaps care only about one thing – sex – they wait with eagerness to get to Montevideo, so they can see ‘street girls’. I find this very depressing – they discuss very little else.

I am in a bit of a void at the moment, reading wise; the print in HG Wells selected short stories is too small and I have difficulty reading it. The alternative, Conrad’s Typhoon, is impossible – the dictionary syndrome – it is irritation to a degree. I have a mental block with Conrad.

Saturday 9 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

How odd. I was sitting wondering what to do, trying to shake off a terrible dreariness when:

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So off I went. A message came from the KSJ office to say that the ETA for Koei Maru No30 in Stanley will be 7.00 tomorrow morning – they will arrange for me to be collected by the warrah.

This is good news – whoopee! yahoo! A day early

The other bonkers thing is that it has turned out to be bloody cold and when I came back from the radio room it was bloody snowing hard. Can you believe it? Yup. April bonkers showers.

Sunday 10 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

I got up with the sun, although I hadn’t been able to sleep a wink, I feel at least that I have been to bed. It is a very cold morning and the ship has arrived in Berkeley Sound – it is almost enough to make me cry, to see land again – it is beautiful and covered in a light scattering of snow. I must brace myself for the bad news that I might not be picked up until tomorrow – God I hope it’s today. A lovely thought – after my week in Stanley, only half of April will be left and then it will be May.

10. Romeo and Juliet

Sunday 3 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

I wonder how Arsenal did yesterday. I have written to Sean, holding him to his promise of sending me cuttings of Arsenal’s progress.

I have almost finished David Copperfield. What a deeply moving book – I find myself laughing and crying throughout the book. I shall be sad to finish it.

I spend my whole time looking forwards or backwards in time. I keep making plans for Deb and me to go on  a holiday together for a week – perhaps to a Greek island, or to Sicily or to Corsica or to Siena or anywhere – I live in that dream.

I also think much about my school days and the third chapter in my life – Cholmely, but I can’t put it on paper yet. (Cholmely was the upper-junior school that I went to from age 9-11)

I am learning Queen Mab’s speech – this is what I know.

She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes

In shape no bigger than an agate-stone

On the fore-finger of an alderman:

Drawn with a team of little atomies

Athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep

I have finished D.C. – I am sad at this prospect. I feel I have myself lived the life of David Copperfield, that I have loved little Emily and that I do love Agnes. Having finished, I am left with the grim reality that I am thousands of miles away from my family and close friends. While Dickens can act to halt progression of my ‘disease’, he cannot cure it. I lived each minute of that book. I know intimately my Aunt, Mr Dick, Dr Strong and his wife Anne, Traddles whom I consider to be a best friend. What a sadness that they are all dead, the author too. Enough mourning. I must read some other books. (It’s lucky I bought so many!). (11 days for Copperfield!)

blog pics  001 10 July 15

A comment from the present day (2015) to put the significance of this last entry into some kind of context. I was never much of a reader in my youth, and only reluctantly read books on into my twenties, preferring to bury myself in my studies, or watching TV. Looking back, I think reading David Copperfield was a life-changing event. There are many of these kinds of events in this journal.

There are also the first signs of a ‘madness’ creeping into my writings, and it feels a bit strange reading them now.

Monday 4 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

Wrote to Pia and Louise B. Both good friends and good company – as before – writing to them made me feel I was with them – what an incredible thing the mind is.

Milk in a ring-pull can!!

blog pics  002 10 July 15

Sabudo gave me a crate of this stuff – he is looking after me very well indeed. what a good bloke.

Continued Mabs:

Her wagon spokes made of long spinners’ legs;

The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;

The traces, of the smallest spider’s web;

The collars, of the moonshines watery beams;

Her whip, of cricket’s bone; the lash, of film;

I radioed Stanley and spoke with Crag. I will wait definitely until the KM30 comes into Stanley/Berkley Sound. I am worried about how much time I will actually get on land. I am also worried that I may be being short-changed a bit. Crag said Drin would be coming in, she has been at sea a month – this is not true, she has been at sea less time than me!

Tuesday 5 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

Watched ‘Inspector Clouseau’ today on video – what a load of cobbler’s – it was an old film (’60s). The highlight for me was that ‘Catweasel’ was in it, playing a chocolate factory porter/watchman. It was a very weak film indeed, but I’m not sure whether it pre-dates or post dates the Pink Panther films. Wrote to Mr Radford and J&J.

9. Bread

Wednesday 30 March 1988, Koei Maru 30.

Bread – will I ever be able to look another piece of white bread in the face again and say ‘I want you’ ? It seems unlikely.

Since telling Nananuma (the ship’s cook) that I liked bread and butter, he has produced this stale stack for me each breakfast of up to ten thick slices. It is not only stale, but tastes of the plastic it has been kept in.

He thinks he is doing me a kindness by this service, for which reason I oblige him by eating what I can and taking what is left to my cabin, where, I am sorry to say, having festered in my fridge for a couple of days, it is destined for the waste disposal unit which is my toilet. It is slowly driving me bonkers and I feel that somebody, somewhere is watching me do this! Am I guilty?

I saw a beautiful flock of white birds, their reversed silhouettes emphasised by the black sky background and the bright lights of the ship shining towards them. I took unsuccessful photographs. They looked heron-like or egret-like and tried to roost a while on the masts, but were unable to remain long due to the winds forcing over the bow. They had yellow beaks and long black legs with large feet. What were they doing here? (I found out some time later that they get blown off course from the mainland and probably perish at sea.)

Thursday 31 March 1988, Koei Maru 30

At last March is almost over – roll on April, May, June, so that I may be home again.

The sea has come up in a terrible fury, but is still nowhere near as bad as I am sure it can become. I think fishing may be abandoned in this weather, although I am not sure. It will certainly be affected. Good for the squid I say. I cannot help thinking myself that the season ought not to start until April, to enable all those immature females the chance of at least producing and spawning eggs.

Friday 1 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

So, I can’t play any tricks on anybody – but I might be able to do something in a letter or two. Yesterday was maddening – no fishing last night and passing the time was even more difficult than usual. I watched ‘Rocky 2’ – wow, some film! And also two really shitty Japanese films, both looked like they were made on Super 8 or something like that.

I can’t remember when I last ate – eating times were all up the spout yesterday! I must keep up with my letters.

image

Only another ten days or so on board and then aaah land ho!

The crew are much better for their enforced day off – no longer do they walk about like zombies.

Mr Chiba (the fishing master) has had a haircut (it was short to start with)

Abe radar has had a shave. They have all slept well and look refreshed.

image

All is much calmer, but we still roll -like right now for example. Wrote to Jazz and Michael.

Saturday 2 April 1988, Koei Maru 30.

A day just like any other passed by. This is a maelstrom of tedium. I want to go home.

 

 

 

8. Sleeplessness and a Penguin

Just to recap, this blog is about an incredible adventure I had in 1988 when I was a young man. It is a faithful transposition of my written journal into a digital format. I had trained as a marine biologist and fisheries scientist, and was offered a contract to work in the Falkland Islands. I am now about three weeks into my trip, and have been at sea for some 12 days.

Sunday 27 March 1988, Koei Maru 30.

Good ol’ Masamitsu gave me his business card today. Unfortunately I was unable to reciprocate this kind gesture.

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I couldn’t get to sleep for ages – my mind was active – thinking about some most obscure things.

– Like when Adam died and R&C came over and I hid in the garden, because I was ashamed of grief. I didn’t want to see R so unhappy.

– And the time I was to walk down Muswell Hill Broadway in my pyjamas and dressing gown…the ultimate humiliation.

There were other thoughts too. I couldn’t sleep. The result of this is that I have slept until 5.30pm and shall probably forego my stroll around deck. Needless to say is is another clear blue sky – the albatross patrol the boat in their usual manner – I suppose they are waiting for scraps.

My pen is running out – I fear I use more ink here than ever I did at Bangor on Newcastle University. it is just as well I brought plenty of spare cartridges. What a clever boy!

It is strange to think that for each entry or most entries in my diary for each day, I have slept between the beginning and the end somewhere. Eh?

Monday 28 March 1988, Koei Maru 30

Well, only one sample last evening. There were no squid in the early part of the evening and there seemed little point in sampling from so few squid.

Quite an evening for wildlife though – at about 1am I saw, in addition to the black browed albatross, the black/grey birds – ugly little things, and the fast flying swift-like which flit over ther waves (Storm Peterel). I also saw a penguin and a seal which was frolicking about.

The jigs picked up another hake and also a penguin. The poor thing was in shock, and was not enjoying the bright lights or my orange suit. It even looked a little sea sick. I was unaware of how large penguin feet are. It seemed to be uninjured though, and was released when jigging was over.

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I asked (rather naively and perhaps insultingly) if it was going to be eaten – Abe said certainly not and looked astonished at my question. I was always led to believe that the Japanese ate everything there was to be had from the sea.

Tuesday 29 March 1988, Koei Maru 30.

I could not, but could not sleep. I set down at 4am and lay for four or five hours without sleep. Radioed Port Stanley and spoke with Crag – it was good, and tried to sleep again but couldn’t for at least an hour. Then I slept until 6pm. Completely bonkers.

FullSizeRender (1)

I am a little annoyed. It seems I have made little or no impression yet with the work I am doing and also with the Department itself. I don’t know, but I don’t feel as though they really care much about me, only the project I am working on. I can’t see that I’m an unlikable chap, I try maybe too hard.

I seem to be going through a bit of a bad patch – perhaps it is too much Dickens. I didn’t write any letters yesterday, in fact I didn’t do much. I am in a slump again and must act on it. I miss Deb and want to see her, or at least read her letters. I am now half way through this voyage, and nearly 10% through my contract.

I am keeping my earring hole open by daily putting a paperclip through it. Unhygienic but effective. I left all my earrings at home.

I wrote again to Mum and Ad. It’s funny, but I never seem to be able to express myself as well on paper (especially in letters), as when I compose things in my head. Perhaps I should make use of my tape recorder.

7. Roll, pitch, yaw

Friday 25 March 1988. Koei Maru 30

I have made friends formally now with the bosun bloke – he is called Abe (Abey) (I don’t know the spelling but that is as close as I can get) – he has been fishing for 20 years, most of that time in West Africa – from Senegal to Angola – for tuna. He learned his English at that time. He doesn’t like working on a jigger for two reasons; it is night work and you miss the days and it is not hot in the Falklands…well, compared to the equator, I should say not.

I am concerned about my weight – I seem to have lost a great deal it has occurred to me on going to sleep early this morning.

image

 

Saturday 26 March 1988. Koei Maru 30

I have established that ‘breakfast’ is at 7-8pm. An odd time. Today I had two steaks – lots of pieces of tuna cooked on the pan and some lettuce and bread – a whole stack of it, with margarine and marmite. I think it all has had somewhat of an adverse affect on my poor stomach. Being 12:30am I can now tick off yesterday in the back – great! It has started up a bit choppy – the ship is rolling quite heavily at times and my stuff gets flung across the floor, or from one end of the cupboard or fridge to the other.

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The clinometer registers the amount of roll – I will investigate. I drank my first coffe from a can tonight while working in the pound – ‘Radar’ gave it to me. It was white with two sugars and Luke warm, but refreshing nonetheless. I was expecting much worse. Having said that, it was like drinking a coffee at the end of a dinner party which had been neglected for a quarter of an hour, due to excessive chat about this or that…what are you up to these days? Well I’m…=cold coffee.

It turned cold last night (today). I was cold in bed but too tired to put on my tracksuit – a tiresome problem encountered many times at Strathmore Crescent, Manor House Road and Holyhead Road. (These were all student digs I had at Newcastle and Bangor Universities).

I am totally absorbed by David Copperfield, I hardly want to put it down, I seem to be reading at the expense of all other things – which is not bad, since the other things tend to be gazing into space, sleeping or writing.

5. Harsh reality

In these next few entries I begin to discover just how tough things can be. Although I was not alone on the Koei Maru 30, I was lonely. I found the physical constraints of being caged within my cabin and on board a small ship difficult to adapt to. Looking back I am not at all surprised about how I felt, after all the longest trip on a boat I had ever had was an overnight ferry to France. But at the time I was bewildered and uncertain…

Friday 18 March 1988. Koei Maru 30

I am feeling depressed. I could be anywhere in the world. I could be happy now, instead I am stuck in my 8ft by 8ft cabin, reading or sleeping or daydreaming. I have spent only one and a half weeks away from home and am seriously doubting my spirit to cope with this job. Perhaps I ought to do a countdown of days in the back of this diary – it is as good as done!

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I think I shall now have a shower.

I so desperately want to write something profound and interesting, but it is difficult. To try and describe the crew, their faces and characters or to describe my mental state (and physical) – how I feel imprisoned…but it all sounds so bloody pompous. I should stick to straight observations.

I slept for four hours this morning. It is rather queer, but I seem to be sleeping twice a day (24 hour period) so I am getting two days for the price of one. Lucky me.

Fishing last night was very good indeed. There will probably be over 50,000kg – that is a lot of squid. The jigs were stopped before 5am so I was able to take lots of photographs. It was not easy with the jigger lights.

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I have just tried unsuccessfully to call FISHOPS (which the radio operator kept calling SHIPOPS) (FISHOPS was the radio call sign for fisheries operations, my base and link to my world in Port Stanley) but only got a message as far as John on the patrol ship.

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It is another blistering day, or at least the sun is blasting through my porthole, if you’ll pardon the expression.

I have got over my initial sadness of the death of all these squid and now have become clinical about it. All I really want to do is get my job done as efficiently and as quickly as possible.

The crew appear to invest their earnings in a spectacular array of gold teeth the likes of which I have never come across, and most smoke like chimneys.

I have now established the mealtime regime:

Breakfast at 2400 hrs

Lunch at 0600 hrs

Supper at 1200 hrs

Somehow this isn’t right!!! Sleep from 1200 to 1800. Eat at 1900. Work until 2400 etc etc etc.

It is not at all like this (26/4/88)

Saturday 19 March 1988. Koei Maru 30

Finished my first book – ‘Dr Slaughter’ by Paul Theroux. Hardly the best book to be reading when 8,000 miles away from London.

I have also finished my work for this shift and am going to try and get myself into some kind of sleep regime and am also going to undergo a positive fitness and occupation regime too – otherwise I am in danger of becoming a vegetable.

My beard is now as long as it has been since my return from Egypt, but it still only looks like heavy growth – it is itchy.

If I go to sleep at 4am or so, I can sleep until 11 or 12 and then eat. I should then be able to catch an early jig and then a late jig each day and get a lot of daylight too!

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It seems to work. I slept, ate and then slept some more and am now (at 1600) ready to sample and stay up until 4 or 5 in the morning.

This morning-afternoon I took some photos of the albatross, if that is what they are, but they are not easy subjects and the setting is incredibly monotonous. I wrote again to Deb and also to R&C last night and to Andy T today.

Sunday 20 March 1988. Koei Maru 30 

I wonder if Arsenal won yesterday. I suppose it is all academic now that they are out of the FA Cup.

I am existing in a state of torpor – too much sleep. If this continues for ten months I am going to go completely bonkers. I already feel that I am beginning to go a little mad. I am having the most weird daydreams, very vivid and strange. I expect I will change a lot over the next few weeks and people at home will notice this.

Last night it was almost impossible to sleep and I have a stiff neck. At about 4am the swell really picked up. It has dropped a little now, but must have been at least 15ft.

Breakfast was disgusting. I am sick of this cold, oily food. God I could do with some nice cheese on toast! Or a bacon roll, or pasta or salami. I miss these things as much as my friends.

Let’s face it guys, I feel terrible. I don’t feel like being sick, but boy have I got a bad headache.

3. Preparing to go to sea

Thursday 10 March 1988. Port Stanley

Up early (7.30am) -ish to go to a seminar on board the Falkland Desire (research vessel). Fortunately the sun was out and it has been a pleasant day. There is a quality of light here, it is so clear and bright.

The seminars were on the whole fairly boring and I didn’t make notes, a mistake perhaps.

I discovered the bank and the Post Office and am just about to post my first three letters (Deb, Ma and Ad and G&G K). They will not go until Saturday.

Lobster Krill washed up on the tide line, Port Stanley March 1988
Lobster Krill washed up on the tide line, Port Stanley March 1988

I spoke to an Italian fisheries man, Dr Luigi Giannini, over lunch (king crab, beef etc.). He gave me his business card and an open invitation to meet up.

I drove the long wheel-base Land Rover to FIPASS. I am now going out to pose a bit with my camera. ‘Til later, ciao.

I have just been subjected to the most horrendous half hour of my life so far, here in the Falklands. It was a meal of rice and chilli con carne type of thing with beans (kidney?) and baked beans. I was gagging and almost puked several times. What a horrid experience. I couldn’t finish it.

Friday 11 March 1988. Port Stanley

So far on subsistence alone I have notched up some £115 in 4 nights, can’t be bad. I have done very little real work, although I am almost completely sorted out for going to sea. Another beautiful day – the difference between this place and any other I have been to is that you can see for miles, there is no mist or haze in this sunlight. It is clean here. I have driven both Rovers now and can’t say I like either of them. Bizarre road rules include giving way to hills and to the right. I don’t understand myself, but I am a bit stupid with these things.

Tonight is Friday night and it is fish and chips (relief). It is the horrible food which is driving me to sea, I can’t wait to be on board a jigger, but I may have to wait now until mid-week. I am beginning to pick up the storyline of the Archers – oh my God, what is life coming to?

The past two days I have seen the same elderly bearded man fixing exactly the same fence in exactly the same place at the infant and junior school. Things can take forever here. I found the Co-op today and went to the West Store and Farmers Store to get a hold-all (brill) boots and overalls. I still need some kit, mainly a hacksaw for removing otoliths from very large fish.

I have just taken some pictures of one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen, the pink and orange mackerel sky to the West. I took about six pictures and hope at least one comes out as it was. Fish and Chips – here we come.

Saturday 12 March 1988. Port Stanley

First film of 24 exposures is finished – I think I booked real bad…I opened the camera, so I must start again and retake as many of the pictures as I can.

I spent much of the morning doing what I had travelled so far from London to escape, namely data entry onto a computer. I was given the afternoon off because I go to sea for sure on Monday and tomorrow I see my first squid – what a joke! I am a little bit miffed because I will be boarding the ship alone without guidance for the first couple of days.

I had a walk out of Stanley up towards Tumbledown Mountain. I took stacks of photographs of geese (Upland and Kelp) and washed up lobster krill. I also went to the Co-op to buy some provisions for the trip. I may be at sea for three weeks – it is very likely.

It has been so hot today. I was not expecting that.

Falkland Islands 29p stamp, March 1988
Falkland Islands 29p stamp, March 1988

Sunday 13 March 1988. Port Stanley

My last day in Stanley and blazing hot too. I am exhausted, too tired to write, I have sunburn (face and arms) and am aching (ankles and back). Walked for miles with Crag and took tons of pictures. I will fill in the detail tomorrow…meanwhile, night night.

AFC lost 1-2 v Nottingham Forest in the cup.

2. Leaving and arriving

Well my ‘flu has subsided, thank heavens, I genuinely don’t think I have ever felt so ill in my life before. I am still not back at work, and have been keen to use the quiet time to continue with laying down the journal I kept in 1988 when I visited the Falkland Islands as a Scientific Officer with the fisheries department.

It should be obvious from the journal itself, but my girlfriend at the time was called Deborah. The next few entries describe some of the upset of leaving loved ones behind. It was tough, but exciting too.

Thursday 3 March 1988. Montague Place, London

It is these pages which I shall return to for home comforts during those ‘black’ periods I am sure to have on my voyages. I shall remember the bomb site loosely described as my bedroom. Remember the phone call with Deborah in which she told me she was coming to London tonight and not tomorrow afternoon as planned.

Every time I go away I spend a fair amount of my time recording music – I don’t know where I would be without music. Jim said that rechargeable batteries are essential – I may have to get some. Also, I may copy him and get a small electric organ, for hours of composition fun.

Tonight I say my farewells to Dad, he is taking Karen and me to a restaurant somewhere in the St Martin’s Lane area.

Deborah’s present is great – I wish someone would buy ‘Hockney, a Retrospective’ for me!

It seems that I, like everyone else, buy presents which I myself would only love to receive given half a chance.

I said my farewell to Sean – he will keep me posted re AFC. I hope he keeps his word.

I received my ticket this morning – no turning back now. I think I ought to give Neil Downs a buzz.

Saturday 5 March 1988. Montague Place, London

A lovely meal at the Chicago Pizza Pie Factory and a drink at le Beaujolais was as much of a send-off as anyone could ask for.

Seeing Deborah off was painful – I didn’t think I would cry, but it was inevitable. Everyone tries to kid me that (5) 10 months is such a short time. It isn’t.

My coat problem was solved today – Richard gave me a Barbour type coat when Deb and I went to say goodbye. I shall see such a change in Helen when I get back. I have a stack of clothes and bits to take.

The Lucian Freud exhibition at the Hayward was enjoyed far more by Deb than by me.

Sunday 6 March 1988. Montague Place, London

I am not certain, but I could be terrified. It is all still unreal. Less than 24 hours, and my adventure will have begun. I would like to think that I could be home with the snap of the fingers, but must be content without any such luxury. Everything is set and ready to begin.

I will miss very much everyone whom I love and this makes me sad, but this cannot hold me back. Missing Deborah already. Very much. How is she so understanding?

Some things have been left undone, but I do have tomorrow.

My next entry will probably not be made for a couple of days, although I hope I can do some writing on the aeroplane.

I am too tired to stay awake, too excited to sleep.

Arsenal beat Spurs 2:1 at Highbury.

(At this point there are letters from both of my grandmothers stuck into my journal. They are both personal and very touching. Sadly both have since passed away, but their advice, love and guidance was an essential part of this extraordinary year)

I love my grandparents. They write so well.

(There were a couple of further cuttings in my journal, the last ones before leaving the UK. The first is an article from the Sunday Times on 6 March 1988, which was a little unsettling, and the other was the standings in the Barclays League First Division. I wasn’t going to let a few thousand miles stand between me and football!).


Wednesday 9 March 1988. Port Stanley

The flight, although very long, was ok. I think boredom was the most challenging problem to overcome. The jet, a tri-star, was rather like a bus or a coach, very smooth. Ascension was like a Dr Who set, lava and dust everywhere. I picked up a small piece of lava from the airstrip. It was very hot, 80 degrees at 7:30 in the morning, and I could have happily stayed there.

On to the Falklands. I don’t feel I’m here – getting down was so easy, I could just as easily be in a small Cornish village.the buildings are colonial wooden or post-colonial wooden and corrugated iron.

My first task today was to accompany ‘the Warrah’ a small patrol vessel, to Berkeley sound for some checking up on jiggers, trawlers and reefers. It was quite rough but the Stugeron sent me to sleep. I saw my first wild dolphins today, and Gentoo penguins and steamer ducks too. The cormorants here have white breasts.

Jim went to sea in a Taiwanese jigger – he was not too happy about it.

And so my journey had begun. I am enjoying reading through my journal, bringing to life some experiences that happend half a lifetime ago. I will try to make time to do another upload soon.

Stephen