For 18 days, since we left Ushuaia at the start of this trip, the largest number of people we have seen at one time, besides the 253 souls traveling aboard this vessel, was 15. That was nearly a week ago in South Georgia. Today, we entered “civilization.”

Stanley is the capital of the Falkland Islands and is home to over 2,500 inhabitants. Of predominantly British stock, these hospitable, self-reliant islanders take great pride in their heritage and leave no doubt as to their allegiance to the crown.

Today, there were various opportunities to get a feel for the island’s natural, cultural, and historical roots. I would like to focus on one in particular, our visit to the Long Island farm.

Situated roughly 30 kilometers from Stanley, the road to Long Island Farm winds along historic battlefields from the 1982 conflict, amongst geologic wonders known as “stone runs,” and ends at a small peat bank where Paul Watson awaited us. Paul is the son of Neil and Glenda Watson who have owned and run this farm since the 1970s. With his help we hope to savor a slice of life in “camp” (i.e. any land beyond the Stanley city limits).

Our introduction to camp life begins right away as Paul explains, then demonstrates the process of cutting peat from a bog. Armed with a flat-blade shovel he slices 20 lb. cubes of black, goopy peat before slinging them into the sun to dry.

Next, we join Glenda Watson for a sheepherding demonstration facilitated by her trusty border collie. Once the sheep are rounded-up Paul joins us again to demonstrate how they are shorn. Illuminated by the dim, yet soft light of the shearer’s shed we watch a modern variation of an age-old tradition. With electric clippers he quickly dispatches a disgruntled sheep of its wool before adding the fleece to the many bails being prepared for market.

A quick visit to the house to meet the other owner, Neil Watson affords us some fresh baked cakes and a chance to ask about life on this land over the past 40 years.  Not much seems to have changed based on his anecdotes.

Settled by the knowledge that kind people and honest work still thrive in the Falklands we bid the Watsons farewell and return to the bustle of the “big city” where our ship awaits.