Carcass Island & New Island, Falkland Islands
Sometimes old adages are just plain wrong. "Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning." Not today! At least, not yet.
As dawn approached, subtle crimson crept from the eastern horizon slowly intensifying until it flared high into the sky and reflected on the crumpled sea. As if an unseen hand had smudged a still wet canvas, pink spread across the heavens fading to pastel tones and then to grey. The sun had different thoughts about the day and slowly burned the clouds away until they turned to wispy white scattered against a clear deep blue.
If one scrutinized a map and selected a place to land based on name alone, Carcass Island would not be a likely candidate. Knowing that Carcass had been a ship might change the initial impression but one would hardly suspect that it was here that someone had dumped the horn of plenty. Wildlife overflowed its shores and poured onto the sea. Having landed, there was no desire to leave. In quiet bays, white sandy beaches arched like the quarter moon. Flightless steamer ducks dipped into the waves or basked in the warm and glittering rays. Tussac-birds plied in piles of golden brown kelp washed up by the sea as they sought out tasty invertebrate morsels. The grass for which they were named rimmed the shore hiding a plethora of singing passerines. Magellanic penguin gangs collected on grassy flats, nervous in their ragged coats, flowing one way away from the flight of a skua or the other in reaction to the passing of a striated caracara. All shades and hues of green carpeted the island from the golden green of late summer grass to dark mats of shrubby diddle-dee on the highlands. Enclosed within a ring of cypress trees a tropical paradise existed. Sweet smells of pastries wafted from the windows of a welcoming abode. We left reluctantly with minds and stomachs alike overflowing with pleasurable sensations.
Feathers drifted through the air like snowflakes in a blizzard. Funneled by a deep incising gorge, the wind poured up New Island's canyon and across flat rocky ledges snatching gray fluffy down from albatross chicks perched on chimney pot pedestals. Rockhopper penguins stood forlornly moulting to new fresh plumage. Both chicks and adults contributed to accumulating drifts. Occasionally, cackling squabbles broke out amongst these red-eyed feisty birds, the anger transmitted rapidly throughout the colony. Like airplanes under the guidance of a control tower, black-browed albatross waddled awkwardly to the cliff edge, spread their wings and soared into the air. Somehow the arriving flights managed to space themselves perfectly between the scheduled departures. With growing mouths to feed, the runway was a busy place. Blue-eyed shags utilized the same flight path, their bubble-gum colored landing gear stretching for a secure perch. Occasionally their brakes appeared to fail and their halt was an unceremonious tumble.
Too soon this perfect day came to an end. Maybe the red sky this morning was simply a warning that evening time would bring a hint of sadness to our world. This landing was our last.
Sometimes old adages are just plain wrong. "Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning." Not today! At least, not yet.
As dawn approached, subtle crimson crept from the eastern horizon slowly intensifying until it flared high into the sky and reflected on the crumpled sea. As if an unseen hand had smudged a still wet canvas, pink spread across the heavens fading to pastel tones and then to grey. The sun had different thoughts about the day and slowly burned the clouds away until they turned to wispy white scattered against a clear deep blue.
If one scrutinized a map and selected a place to land based on name alone, Carcass Island would not be a likely candidate. Knowing that Carcass had been a ship might change the initial impression but one would hardly suspect that it was here that someone had dumped the horn of plenty. Wildlife overflowed its shores and poured onto the sea. Having landed, there was no desire to leave. In quiet bays, white sandy beaches arched like the quarter moon. Flightless steamer ducks dipped into the waves or basked in the warm and glittering rays. Tussac-birds plied in piles of golden brown kelp washed up by the sea as they sought out tasty invertebrate morsels. The grass for which they were named rimmed the shore hiding a plethora of singing passerines. Magellanic penguin gangs collected on grassy flats, nervous in their ragged coats, flowing one way away from the flight of a skua or the other in reaction to the passing of a striated caracara. All shades and hues of green carpeted the island from the golden green of late summer grass to dark mats of shrubby diddle-dee on the highlands. Enclosed within a ring of cypress trees a tropical paradise existed. Sweet smells of pastries wafted from the windows of a welcoming abode. We left reluctantly with minds and stomachs alike overflowing with pleasurable sensations.
Feathers drifted through the air like snowflakes in a blizzard. Funneled by a deep incising gorge, the wind poured up New Island's canyon and across flat rocky ledges snatching gray fluffy down from albatross chicks perched on chimney pot pedestals. Rockhopper penguins stood forlornly moulting to new fresh plumage. Both chicks and adults contributed to accumulating drifts. Occasionally, cackling squabbles broke out amongst these red-eyed feisty birds, the anger transmitted rapidly throughout the colony. Like airplanes under the guidance of a control tower, black-browed albatross waddled awkwardly to the cliff edge, spread their wings and soared into the air. Somehow the arriving flights managed to space themselves perfectly between the scheduled departures. With growing mouths to feed, the runway was a busy place. Blue-eyed shags utilized the same flight path, their bubble-gum colored landing gear stretching for a secure perch. Occasionally their brakes appeared to fail and their halt was an unceremonious tumble.
Too soon this perfect day came to an end. Maybe the red sky this morning was simply a warning that evening time would bring a hint of sadness to our world. This landing was our last.
