Ushuaia, again

This was the rather breathless post I managed from an Internet Cafe in Ushuaia late evening on Friday, 16-Feb-2007. The other Blogs are now uploaded and most of the photographs are available (but untitled).

I´m back! Just got back from my cruise tonight, staying on the boat tonight. What a time I´ve had! Whilst shipboard, I prepared lots of text to upload, but I can´t do it just at present so this is a ´holding job´ to let readers know I´m safe and well. What tales I´ve got to tell but I´m afraid you´ll have to wait a bit longer for details.

I have hundreds of photographs to upload, but that may have to wait a while. Suffice to say that the trip to date has exceeded my expectations.

Returning via the Drake Passage

Thursday, 15th February 2007:

With some trepidation, the passengers embark on the 600-mile, two-day North-bound crossing of the Drake Passage. This time, I have no discomfort at any stage and settle into a routine of meals, lectures and sleeping soundly. I make fairly frequent visits to the bridge.

Friday, 16th February 2007:

I rise early and spend some time on the bridge. The sea is much livelier this morning, whipped by a North wind of up to 40 knots. Our speed has dropped to around 9 knots, although the ship is still 'Full Ahead'. I enjoy a quick breakfast and return to the bridge. Just before 8.00 am, the infamous Cape Horn appears out of the rain, a few miles ahead. The Captain continues until we're about two miles off, to give passengers a chance to see this icon, then we turn due East to run parallel to the coast of Chile, eventually turning Northwards again to reach the Beagle Channel. As the day progresses, conditions improve and the sun appears.

By the afternoon, we enter the Beagle Channel, with the Panamanian flag fluttering at the stern (although operated by a Chilean company, the vessel is registered in Panama). The day is punctuated by a lecture from Eduardo about the early explorers of the Southern Seas followed by another excellent lunch. Then, with four others, I go on a tour of the engine room. The guide and the other four are predominantly Spanish speakers, giving me the opportunity to try to work things out for myself. Needless to say, I was fascinated. At some stage, I may write some words to go with my many photographs but, for now, suffice to say that devotional pictures attached to various control panels helped to ensure the success of our journey. The engine room was extremely clean but very noisy - the ear defenders offered to the visitors were readily accepted!

We take a pilot for the rest of the navigation. First, the little pilot launch is spotted approaching us from the direction of Ushuaia on our port side. The launch has three playful dolphins in convoy. Then the launch slips around our stern to come alongside on our starboard side. Next, our crew put out a rope ladder (the sort where each step is a flat wooden board with a hole each end to accept the ropes).Finally, the pilot climbs from the flat aft deck of his launch up the sheer side of our massive hull onto our deck. All this, of course, whilst our ship continues towards Ushuaia. The dolphins decide to accompany us for a while and the three lithe bodies repeatedly arc out of the water, in perfect synchronism with one another.

The passengers gather in the dining room for the final de-briefing.There are short speeches and rounds of applause for each of the people who have helped to make this particular cruise so memorable. The mellow mood is assisted by the Captain's Farewell Cocktail and copious supplies of wine with the meal. Somehow, John Villegas, the hotel manager, manages to exceed the success of his previous meals in this Farewell Dinner.

By the time the meal is finished, it's 9.30 pm and getting dark. Although we're sleeping on the ship tonight, now we've docked it's possible to go into the town, so I decide on a constitutional. A 'pass-out' issued by the crew at our gangway will get me out of the port and back in again. We're moored right at the end of the long, straight jetty, so it's a ten-minute walk in light rain to the port entrance. Ahead, Ushuaia straggles up the hill, a patchwork quilt of lights of every colour. The 'pass-out' works well and, emerging into the town, I briefly walk around. There's a crowded restaurant on every street corner but the shops are shut. I find an Internet Café open until 2.00 am and, at last, make contact with the outside world. Then it's back to the ship, slightly damp but well-pleased with my perambulation.

Deception Island, South Shetlands

Wednesday, 14th February 2007, Deception Island:

Overnight, the 'Antarctic Dream' has headed North, crossed the Bransfield Strait and returned to the South Shetland Islands. This morning, we are to visit the volcanic island of Deception, which last erupted as recently as 1970. The island is the 'caldera' - an almost-complete circle five miles across. Sea access to the caldera is through a narrow, hazardous passage called Neptune's Bellows. I'm on the bridge just after 5.00 am, with other passengers, to watch the captain bring the 'Antarctic Dream' from the open water into the placid lagoon within. We then head for our first landing place at Telephone Bay.

All the passengers are by now quite accustomed to donning parkas, gumboots and lifejackets and lining up to turn their token from green to red on the board which indicates when people have left the ship. Each Zodiac normally takes ten passengers so it doesn't take too long to get people ashore, although it's the first time we've done it at 6.30 in the morning! Everything is black gravel, actually pumice and ash from the eruption 35 years ago. It's a bleak but impressive landscape. In a few places, green litchens have established a precarious foothold but no other living things are obvious, until we encounter a solitary penguin undergoing a moult. It looks rather sad but is probably fine - penguins can last for a month without food or water and, well before that, it should have returned to its natural element, the sea. We climb a couple of hundred feet, but it's reasonably easy going over the black ash. We can now see that there are a number of new craters, slowly filling with water, in addition to the huge sea-filled original crater where our ship waits, looking like a toy from our lofty vantage point. There is no sound and it seems a good place to sit and contemplate our incredible world. Within an hour, we make our way back to the ship for a welcome and well-deserved breakfast, whilst our floating restaurant manoevres us to Pendulum Cove.

At 9.00am, those of us with the stamina disembark a second time, improbably for a swim. The beach is the usual black, fine gravel but to the right of our landing spot, clouds of steam are rising from the beach and drifting out to sea in the light wind. Two seamen from our ship have dug a shallow collecting pool and hot melt water is running from the pool to the sea. We remove our lifejackets and outer clothing and, clad only in swimsuits, run down to the sea below the collecting pool. I'm in the first group of four and, sitting down in the shallows, I'm relieved to find that the sea is slightly warm. However, each wave brings in rather cold water from the bay, so we quickly adopt the technique of lying on our front in the black gravel, covered in seawater but carefully positioned so that the hot water from the collecting pool is cooled by the seawater to keep a pleasant temperature around the body. This way, it's delightful. Sweeping the arms in a wide arc can be used to promote the water mixing, or the hands can be plunged into the warm gravel to release the heat. Julio keeps encouraging us to go into deeper water where he assures us the water becomes warmer but I find that any attempt to move out exposes me to cold water so, like most of the bathers, I stay where I am comfortable. One particularly brave American girl with experience of cold water swimming strikes out a few yards, but quickly returns saying the water was the coldest she'd ever been in. With some reluctance, I left my warm bath, ran up the beach, towelled down and dressed. It's a bit worrying to be standing in a wet swimsuit and nothing else when all the spectators were in full bad-weather garb with heavy gloves! All the bathers said they enjoyed the experience but a number said that drying out on the beach was the worst bit. To my surprise, I did not think it was so bad. Perhaps this is a consequence of living in a cold country like England. Anyhow, before 10.00 am we were back on the ship and there was just time to have another warm bath and put on dry clothes ready for our third landing of the day at 10.30 am. I had inadvertently brought back quite a bit of black gravel in my swimsuit and I later found that the other bathers had had an identical experience.

By the time I was ready to go, the Captain had moved the ship to our landing position in Whaler's Bay and, for the last time, the Zodiac drivers take us ashore. On the short journey, we could see the remains of the long-abandoned whaling factory. This was established around 1910 and continued iin use until about 1932, superceded by more "efficient" factory ships. Before inspecting the factory, part of our group walked along the shore with Rodrigo to check out the wildlife. We found a number of small groups of fur seals enjoying the mild weather. We gave them a wide berth, and they just watched us go past. But one particularly aggressive male decided to come across the beach apparently to threaten me. I stopped, slowly retreated a yard, but after a pause, he advanced again. Rodrigo came up and discouraged the fellow with some well-judged stick waving, until the seal went back to harrassing another seal. We carried on to near the end of the beach and climbed the inside of the caldera until, a hundred feet or so up, a gap in the rocks, almost like a missing tooth in a lower jaw, gave us stunning views of the open sea and the wildlife.

Before we left, I was determine to check out the remains of the factory. My distaste for whaling means that I have never studied the processing involved but, confronted by this industrial archaeology, I felt the need to consider the functions needed to help to understand what I was looking at. But I had a mere 30 minutes to look at the site. More on the factory here.

Pictures.
More pictures.
South Atlantic Swimming Club pictures.

The Antarctic Peninsula

Monday, 12th February:

After breakfast, we pass through the Lemaire Channel. This is 7 miles long and less than a mile wide at its narrowest point. Almost all the passengers come on deck to photograph the tall ice-covered cliffs ranging up on each side. We stop near Pleneau Island for a Zodiac trip. I say 'stop' because the water is too deep to anchor, so the ship holds position by gentle manoevring to allow the Zodiacs to load up and get away.

The bay is full of fantastical floating ice sculptures, all tinged with the etherial blue coloration. The largest stand 40 or 50 feet out of the water and everyone seems to feel a sense of awe. Remember, we're on the West side of the Antarctic Peninsula facing the South Atlantic and there's no permanent iceshelf here, although this bay will be frozen over in a few weeks. The ice sculptures we are admiring originally broke away from the iceshelf on the East side of the Peninsula in the Weddell Sea. Currents then carried the ice around to where we now see them. The summer sun starts the melting process and wind and tide carve the strange shapes. As mass is lost, the floating ice may become unstable and turn over.The process then continues, shaping a different part of the ice.

In a couple of places, we find seals basking on suitable flat portions of the sculptures. The flat place on the first sculpture must be 8 feet above the sea, with no easy access from the water. Renee, the excellent Zodiac driver, explains that seals swim upwards at high speed, launch themselves from the water and flop onto the flat place. Amazing! The second group of basking seals only had about a two foot 'jump' to reach their flat place. Here, the Zodiac 'nuzzles' the ice-sculpture, so that we are very close to the seals, who remain unconcerned. Renee admitted that the Antarctic can become an obsession for which there is no cure, only treatment (keep going back). He himself has worked in the Antarctic for 30 years.

In the afternoon, we make a Zodiac landing on Peterman Island. At 65 degrees South, this is the Southern limit of our trip so, as you can see, we are still some way North of the Antarctic Circle and a very long way from the Pole. We have looked at only the 'Northern reaches' of the Antarctic Peninsula. And yet, we have experienced so many wonders!

There are the usual Gentoo colonies around us: this is about as far South as they breed. Adelie penguins are also found here - the only Adelie colony we've seen. Steep, black mountains face us across the bay. Much of the ice has gone from the steeper sections and has re-frozen near the water, to thaw and collapse into the sea by stages, until the winter brings ice and snow to re-start the cycle. We walk across the rocks to find a large private yacht moored offshore. Somebody from the yacht is exploring a small, round bay with an inflatable. Beyond the round bay stands an abandoned Argentinian refuge hut. In addition to a number of birds as yet unidentified by me, there are many Antarctic Shag, a type of cormorant, which appear to live in harmony with the Gentoo. An exciting Zodiac ride across a fairly active sea returns us to the ship. We have three hours to relax as the ship moves North, passing through the Lemaire Channel again, to reach Port Lockroy.

Just after 7.00pm the Zodiac drops my party off at a rocky landing near the inevitable Gentoo colony. It's a lot cooler, it's raining intermittently and we've an hour here. My initial thoughtof 'I don't want to do this' is quickly forgotten in fascination watching the Gentoo behaviour. One juvenile is quite persistent in checking out the food value of my gumboots, the straps on my lifejacket and my finger (it doesn't hurt), before wandering off to try elsewhere.The Zodiac transfers me (just me, on this trip) to Port Lockroy post office. This is the base established by the British after the second world war for radio propagation research and abandoned in 1962.

In 1996, the wooden huts were restored to the 1962 condition as 'Historic Site and Monument No. 61' and it is now looked after by people from the Antarctic Heritage Trust (see website). There's a souvenir shop, which lets you send postcards, and a wonderful evocation of the original base with kitchen, store room, radio room, lounge and research room lovingly restored. The main equipment used for radio research was called 'The Beastie' and there's one on show, put back together under the guidance of one of the original base commanders. A splendid effort and it was with some reluctance that I joined the last Zodiac back to the ship to end an exhilarating, if exhausting, day.

Tuesday, 13th February:

This morning, we go back to Neko Bay and, this time, we are able to make a landing. It's raining, but not too cold and the rain becomes intermittent later. We land on a shingle beach and walk around a small headland into an exquisite, proected bay. As we proceed, the shingle turns to sand, with multi-hued granite rocks. There are a few jet-black rocks.There are Gentoo everywhere, not just near the beach. Colonies can be some distance away atop quite difficult hills accessed over ice or rock. What at first sight appears an ungainly, waddling locomotion is, in fact, well-adapted to the areas where penguins live part of their lives. Once you compare the antics of the human visitors making the same climbs, the Gentoo appear almost elegant. They only come to land for breeding and when very young, otherwise they are 'pelagic' - they live at sea. Penguins are supremely efficient in sea-going mode.

The beach at Neko Bay is strewn with lumps of ice beached by the tide, anything up to 8 foot cube and still frozen hard. On the other side of the bay, we face cliffs with mountains behind receding into the mist-obscured distance. The front of the cliffs are ice, 20 to 50 feet thick,slowly tearing itself apart after the summer sun. Cracks and fissures appear in the ice, always tinged with the strange blue light. The majority of the high land is still ice, but there are large areas where the ice has completely detached, exposing the dark rock below.

There is the occasional cry of a seabird, the sussuration as the tide gently laps at the shore and the distant rumble as ice falls somewhere but otherwise all is quiet and, for a while, all the visitors stand in wonder at the spectacle. The more adventurous climb to quite a height over the ice, but I'm content to go just to the top of the headland for different views and sight of our waiting ship. The ice has numerous tiny, informal streams leading the melt water downhill. Either side of these streams, the ice has softened to slush and this offers the safest footing for gumboots. We return to the ship for lunch whilst the ship moves to Dallman Bay, a known good spot for whale-spotting.

I watch from the wheelhouse with a few others. The wheelhouse has access to an open bridge deck with good views all round which is ideal. It's raining quite hard now and getting cold, so it's handy to be able to duck back into the wheelhouse for a bit of shelter. A pair of humpback whales is spotted, so we alter course to get closer and then sit and wait. The whales perform, swimming up and down a couple of hundred feet off the boat. We all take our photographs, congratulate ourselves and relax."Ballenos!" cries the smiling helmsman and, once again, we set off for the general direction of the sighting and wait.

And then follows an incredible close encounter with a pair of humpbacks as they surface right alongside the ship and, for about half an hour, stay with us as we hold station. They swim alongside, disappear, then re-appear venting spray. The water is clear enough to see their huge bodies gracefully moving just under the surface. Then, they disappear, to surface moments later on the other side of the vessel. They repeat this trick a number of times. On the various decks, passengers can be seen running from side to side of the ship. The whales show us their nobbly heads, occasionally flick their bifurcated tails, or turn on their side to expose a massive dorsal fin. Their diet is more or less exclusively tiny krill. On a number of occasions, they dive and defecate krill residue - a reddish-pink slurry. Passengers and staff are breathless with excitement. Struggling to take photographs of this aquatic ballet, I hear myself gasping "Oh, my God!", in sheer awe. Standing next to me, the Captain, veteran of 120 Antarctic journeys, is crying "I don't believe it!". These amazing mammals, the weight of an articulated lorry, seem so benign and, somehow, so knowing. They are highly social with a highly-developed brain structure (weighing 4 to 8 kilos) associated with high intelligence. Whilst one must not anthropomorphise - they're whales, not people - it's hard not to conclude that they knew we were there and chose to associate with us for mutual amusement. We all feel privileged to have been part of the experience.

Pictures.
More pictures.

South Shetland Islands

Saturday, 10th February:

At 5.00am we still seem to be in open water. By 6.00am the outline of the South Shetlands is visible on the starboard side and we're in much smoother water, so I get up and go to the bridge. The ship is manoevring to its first anchorage and the captain, Peter Skog, is in command. 'Antarctic Dream' has passed through the Nelson Strait, come around Robert Island and anchors in Discovery Bay on Greenwich Island. After breakfast, we get the compulsory Zodiac Safety and Antarctic briefing. The Antarctic is regulated under a 1959 Treaty, as amended, as a zone of peace and science. Tourism is regulated by the International Association Antarctica Tour Operators. More information here.

Around 10.0am the Zodiacs start taking us ashore. There's bright sunshine and you'd be tempted to describe the weather as balmy. We walk around the island, past an abandoned Argentine Research station and see a number of Weddell Seals who seem unperturbed by our presence. Within an hour, the sky is overcast, the wind picks up and the temperature plummets. We're all happy to be picked up by the Zodiacs and returned to the ship.

Whilst lunch is taken, the ship moves the short distance to Aitcho Island. We disembark but conditions are worse than in the morning. It's raining quite hard and fairly miserable. Our landing point is a shingle beach in the middle of a huge colony of Gentoo penguin. There are lots of juveniles, who seem quite curious about the big red penguins arriving (the tour company loan red parkas, though some people prefer to use their own). But penguin poo does smell! The beach is criss-crossed with white, straight lines of poo, each about 15 inches long, produced by the single, explosive evacuation they employ. Away from the beach, the water from the melting snow converts the poo into a rather evil-smelling mud. We're quite glad of the tour company gumboots! Click for my pictures.

Sunday, 11th February:

In the night, we've moved further South to around latitude 64 degrees South. Over breakfast, we can study the large number of pieces of ice which litter the sea and the ice-covered cliffs showing fracture lines as huge lumps of ice prepare to tumble into the sea. The fissures often have an etherial blue coloration.

We disembark by Zodiac on another shingle beach on the island of Cuverville. There's a large Gentoo population here, as well. The centre of the island rises up a few hundred feet in a snow-covered dome. Our guide Rodrigo leads a walk towards the summit. Once past the main colony and the penguin poo, we climb over loose scree to pass a number of subsidiary colonies, some distance from the sea. Our route now takes us uphill over rock and snow - difficult climbing in gumboots. The party becomes progressively smaller as members drop out and eventually I decide to stop, having covered a respectable distance and obtained incredible views. As I sit in the snow, catching my breath, there is an occasional thunder clap, as more ice slides from the cliffs into the sea, but the ice fall is not visible from my vantage point. The weather is fairly mild and, for most of the time, I'm not wearing gloves. I look on in mild disapproval as some of the youngsters descend by sliding on their backsides over the snowfield, then I decide it's perhaps not such a bad idea and copy them. I return to the ship exhilarated but exhausted.

Julio announces that our planned afternoon visit to Neko Bay, which should have been our first landing on the Antarctic Peninsula, has been cancelled, because of an electrical problem in the engine room.The captain takes the ship back to Cuverville, which offers a safe anchorage, while the problem is being looked at. We anchor near a Russian ship. This is a converted scientific ship now leased to Oceanwide, Holland. There are up to 32 ships at a time doing these cruises. Their movements are carefully choreographed so that they do not interfere with one another. Rather ominously, the ship becomes silent as all the machinery is shutdown to allow the repair to go ahead. I can hear an auxiliary running and there's certainly power in my cabin. I have two oil-filled electric heaters in my cabin and the thermostats have been set to maximum since I boarded. Within a couple of hours, the captain is on the public address to confirm that the problem, a burnt-out variable resistor, is fixed and that we are on the way South to Waterboat Point.

After dinner, the Zodiacs take us ashore. There is a Chilean Air Force Antarctic base here (although it's serviced by the Chilean Navy) called Gabriel Gonzales Videla Station. There's another large Gentoo colony here, so our boots get a bit muddy. It's a calm evening and, even at 9.30 pm, quite pleasant, gloves not required. About half a dozen of the Chileans are manning the Museum. This a decent wooden shed with a good selection of photographs of the history of the site captioned helpfully in English. The Museum sells a variety of souvenirs - payment in US dollars.

Pictures.
More pictures.

Drake Passage - towards Antarctica

On Wednesday, 7-Feb-2007, I board the 'Antarctic Dream for my 11-day trip to the Antarctic Peninsula in Ushuaia, Argentina. Bit of a scrum as everyone piles into reception, passports are collected and staff show guests to their cabins. Mine, 323, has a double bed, two windows (not portholes) looking out on the starboard side and a third looking ahead. The bathroom has a combined shower and bath. For more information, see www.antarctic.cl.

The first meeting takes place at 6.00pm in the dining room. Chilean-born Julio Preller, as expedition manager for the last two seasons, first introduces John Villegas, the hotel manager. Julio hopes that we will learn a lot and appreciate nature. Drake not happy with us, he says, they had a 'rocky' time coming in from Antartica via the Drake Passage this morning at 7.00am. Although we're supposed to cast off at 7.00pm, Julio says it will be nearer 9.30pm, as we're waiting for two passengers whose flight has been delayed. Julio says that when we get to the Antarctic Peninsula, there'll be a briefing each evening before dinner. The bad news is that the internet connection is down and won't be fixed. Periodically during the day, four different feature films and a documentary will be shown on the in-cabin television. We'll have five days down there and we must respect the creatures. February is a good time for whales. The ship has an 'open bridge' policy and, in reasonable numbers in daylight, passengers can visit the bridge at any time. It will only be dark for about four hours each night. Other members of the team are Penelope, from Australia, Rodrigo, a translator, and Eduardo. Maria looks after reception. There's a doctor on board, too. The key to moving safely on a moving ship, Julio says, is to always be holding on with one hand "one hand for you and one for the ship". Two of our passengers are making a film for Austrian television. Tomorrow will be an easy day, says Julio. Muster in the dining room in 10 minutes for mandatory boat drill.

Boat drill passes off uneventfully and we return to the dining room for dinner. We're still tied up when 'Discovery', the large ship on the opposite side of the jetty, moves away stern first until there's manoevring room to turn herself around. Almost immediately, the berth is taken by another cruise ship which had appeared a couple of hours earlier and anchored offshore. At 9.30pm, we quietly slip away from the quay and head East along the Beagle Channel, with Argentina on our left and Chile on our right. Once clear of the Beagle Channel, we turn South for our 600 mile crossing of the open sea to reach the South Shetland Islands.

This is the Drake Passage and it appears that Drake is no more pleased with us than the incoming sailing. Whilst nowhere near as bad as it can get, it's the worst experience I've had on a ship. I was bouncing round the cabin like a shuttlecock. Even with one hand firmly connected to the ship, I just hadn't the strength to resist being thrown painfully against the opposite wall. I was soon exhausted. Even in bed, I involuntarily slid up and down with the movements of the ship. Furniture is screwed down. Most chairs are attached to the floor with a spring, allowing limited movement. The night was punctuated by crashes, in my cabin and elsewhere in the ship, as anything loose cannoned around. In between mal de mer, arthritis and an infection I think I picked up in New York, the next two days are a bit of a blank. I survived, then improved and when I finally emerged, I discovered that most of the rest of the passengers had had a miserable crossing, too.

Pictures of the ship and my cabin.

Ushuaia - the full story

Tuesday, 6-Feb-2007:

I took my travel agent's advice on a hotel in Ushuaia, so we have about 5 miles to go out of town to get to the Tolkeyen. In the last 25 years Ushuaia has achieved incredible growth, from a population of a few thousand up to around 85 thousand. The Argentinian Government has introduced various inducements to bring people here. Tourism is a major part of the local economy. To the West, there's a National Park, which extends to the border with Chile.

As we leave the town, we pass through the posh area of Ushuaia with quite large wooden-clad houses which look quite attractive. The weather is very changeable here, so heating is important. Argentina has its own oil and gas supplies and the Government has put in a pipeline, 200 km long I think, to bring gas to Ushuaia. We pass through rather inhospitable-looking scrub land and come to a small township, where a drive leads us to the Tolkeyen Hotel.

The hotel is single storey, log-clad lodge-style, very spacious and nice and warm. My room is, I suspect, the best in the place, with a bay window commanding splendid views of the Beagle Channel. I decide to have dinner in the restaurant, nice high gable roof, stone floor. Although there are a fair few people already there (a German party), service is prompt and attentive. I have cream of asparagus soup, with crusty bread just right, codfish (small fillets in a light sauce with a boiled potato - excellent) and an ice cream to finish. Replete, I return to my room, bathe in the whirlpool bath, fall into the large bed and sleep soundly.

Wednesday, 7-Feb-2007:

There's an excellent buffet breakfast in the dining room looking across the Beagle Channel to the snow-covered mountains on the other side, which are part of Chile. I walk down to the foreshore to take in the view. On the landward side there are also snow-covered mountains. There's a light drizzle and a rainbow is forming. All sorts of birds are flying aound the water line, foraging for food. It truly is a magical spot. This unlikely, remote spot is the first place I've managed to send e-mail via the hotel's Wi-Fi. Sadly, I can't post a blog. Dunno why.

The hotel has a free shuttle bus into Ushuaia a few times a day. I catch the 9.00am (I'm the only passenger) and he drops me on the waterfront. The main area 'Centro' extends about 15 blocks along the waterfront and four blocks inland on land which rises up steeply. The land agents in Ushuaia are Rumbo Sur (www.rumbosur.com.ar/. I go to the Rumbo Sur booking office to find out more about embarkation on my Antarctic Cruise, but the right people don't seem to be there. I also enquire about the narrow gauge 'Tren Turistico' steam train which starts a few miles out of town and takes people to the national park. I can't really get answers, so I find out where the taxi rank is and get a taxi up to the railway.

Well, the morning trains have gone but I make contact with their charming lady commercial manager, Natalia Assandri, and she introduces me to (I think) the stationmaster and their workshop manager, Hugo del Valle, who provides a tour of the workshop facilities, during which I meet one of the drivers. The whole operation is very impressive. Before I get a taxi back to Ushuaia, they offer me a footplate ride if I can get to them on the day I return after the cruise. I'll certainly try! Nice people. See their website www.trendelfindelmundo.com.ar.

Back in Ushuaia, I've more time to look around. The harbour is one straight jetty with moorings on both sides plus provision for the large day-trip boats. Two large cruise ships on one side of the jetty mask the view of my ship 'Antarctic Dream' which I spotted berthed on my way in by taxi.There are lots of tourist shops, lots of tourists - Americans, Europeans, not many Japanese. Another taxi then took me back to the hotel, ready to be picked with my luggage and taken to the Albatros Hotel near the harbour for check-in to the cruise. There was then an enforced wait of nearly 2 hours before joining the coach for the short journey to the ship. Cynically, I assumed that this was to encourage you to spend money in the hotel restaurant and bar. I didn't - I passed the time in the town.

In Buenos Aires, people seemed predominantly fair skinned and very European looking, many with blonde hair. But in Ushuaia, the dark-skinned look of South America is commoner. There is an Aboriginal Museum devoted to the Yamana people but, with limited time, I opt instead for the Maritime Museum. This is situated next to the present Navy base in the former prison, the Presidio. Although parts of this large building are distictly run down, an awful lot of trouble has been taken in the staging of the artefacts and I found it charming. Six wings of cell blocks radiate from the centre, some of which are used for displays. There are some marvellous ship models, many by an award-winning model-maker whose workshop has also been preserved here.The last surviving locomotive and coach from the original prison railway have also been preserved, sadly outside but at least available for inspection. One wing of cells is unrestored, showing all the original architectural features. The most modernised wing is now an art gallery. After a fascinating, if rather hurried tour, I make my way back to the Albatros Hotel where a coach is waiting.

Finally, once all the stragglers have arrived, we drive in the rain to the harbour. We get off the coach for hand baggage X-ray, get back on the coach to drive along the jetty and, finally, approach our home for the next 11 days, 'Atlantic Dream'.

Click for my pictures of Ushuaia

Click for pictures of the original Prison Railway vehicles and the modern 'Tren Tourstico'

Ushuaia

Tuesday, 6-Feb-2007:

I'm sitting in the dining room of the Tolkeyen Hotel, a few miles outside Ushuaia. It's getting dusk and I'm looking across the Beagle Channel to the snow-covered mountains on the other side. Magical! Tomorrow I embark on a 10-day cruise to the Antarctic Peninsula. I may be quiet for some time.

All my Ushuaia pictures are now available here.

Heading South

6-Feb-2007:

After an all-to-brief stay, I'm leaving Buenos Aires. Things followed a familiar pattern: On arrival, the place seemed almost alien, unknown. The hotel proved a good choice (it was my choice). It has 'a bit of age' which always helps with me. But then I have to summon up courage to actually leave the hotel. People don't believe me but, travelling on my own, I don't find it easy. Once I get started, the challenge of trying to come to grips with a new culture takes over. I always think "I may never pass this way again" and, as I get older, the prediction becomes ever-more-likely to come true. So I feel it my duty to extract everything I can from the experience.

I was picked up from the hotel, on time, by the lady who met me on my arrival, Mary Luz. She claimed to be amazed at what I'd seen in one day, saying people take a week to see less. She added that a lot of local people would be afraid to catch an ordinary train! Well, I have an advantage with trains and subway systems in that I'm interested and have a fair idea how they work before I start.

15:30 sees me boarding aircraft LV-VBZ at Jorge Newbery domestic airport (ticketing code AEP). It's far more modern and spacious than the international airport Ministro Pistarini (EZE) I arrived at yesterday (It seems much longer ago to me - I've commented on the Time Dilation Effect experienced on my holidays before). The aircraft is an MD Series 80 built, the bi-lingual Aerolineas Argentinas flight magazine informs me, by Boeing, with 8 business class seats (I'm in one of only two seats occupied on this flight) and 140 tourist. A glass of champagne, the Buenos Aires Herald in English. The Government have just replaced the Chief Statistician and issued a delayed January monthly inflation figure of 1.1%. Commentators were expecting at least 1.5% and are crying 'fix'. So, we Brits can still show the Argies a thing or two. I imagine our inflation is nearly as bad but Gordon only admits to two or three percent in a year!

We take off at about 4.00 p.m. for our 3 hours 10 minutes flight to Ushuaia, right on the Southern tip of South America. Immediately after take-off, the cockpit door is opened and remains open for some time. It's a long time since I've seen that sort of informality! During our climb, I get a good view of the extensive modern housing around Buenos Aires. The area is divided by the roads into rectangular blocks, USA-style. Large areas are low-rise, then you get a number of blocks which are high rise. It looks quite pretty from the air, but I wouldn't like to live there.

Once we're above the cloud, the terrain is only intermittently visible but soon we're over the sea, heading South.They serve a modest, but pleasant, light meal then I sit it out until we descend through the cloud for a textbook landing at Ushuaia. As you'd imagine, it's a fairly modest affair but it does sport two airbridges, so we get into the terminal without sampling the outside temperature, but there's late afternoon sun. After a short delay, the luggage arrives, there's a cursory but friendly customs check and I meet up with the bearded young man from the travel company. It's cold outside after Buenos Aires, but nowhere near as cold as New York.

Buenos Aires

I choose the Marriott Plaza as a landmark hotel, designed in 1907 (by a German). I like exploring these hotels with a bit of history. Well, the staff are friendly and quite attentive so, so far, I'm very happy. See the hotel's web site. I will only be in Buenos Aires about 1 day. I'd originally scheduled more but there were problems with the onwards flight so we've had to shorten the stay. It's hot! After New York, it's wonderful to be warm again! The capital has a population of about 4 million but, with the surrounding area included, it's about 14 million - around 40% of the population of the country! Ethnic background is Spanish (which I knew) and Italian (which I didn´t) plus the indigenous Indians. But now there's Koreans and Chinese coming in. Faith is mainly Catholic, but there is freedom for all sorts of persuasions.

Somehow, I'd failed to anticipate the nondescript concrete buildings everywhere: not very appealing. And the wide, busy toll road in from the airport could be anywhere in the world. But as you approach the old parts of the city, the European influence is obvious. They have a number of very wide avenues (they claim to have the widest streets in the world, but I think this claim is disputed). I did count six and seven lanes each way in places. There are some fairly grand buildings, like the Colon Theatre where they stage operas and, of course, my hotel. Just like Europe, these buildings now share space with indifferent modern stuff.

But parts of Buenos Aires are being developed differently, as I found when I walked from my hotel to Puerto Madero, the old docks. There is an enclosed dock system with a number of sepate basins, a bit like, say, the Royal Docks in London. Most of these docks are redundant and lots of new commercial and residential buildings are appearing. The old brick built warehouses have, in general, been retained and developed as apartments with posh cafes and bars on the ground floor. Some of the dockside cranes have been kept, to add character, and the whole area seems very popular with tourists and locals alike. There are also fairly spectacular tall apartment blocks either being built or already sold. I don't approve of it all, but at least the thinking is more joined-up. There is clearly a burgeoning rich middle class in Argentina who are buying into this dream, but you don't have to walk far to see that not everybody is benefitting equally from this prosperity.

The docks are big! I wasn't sure how long my energy would last in this heat, so I turned back towards the city and headed towards the Plaza de Mayo. This proved to be the usual grassed park with large statuary that they seem to do well in this part of the world. I spotted the entrance to Line A of the 'Subte' (presumably a contraction of 'subterrainean' and purchased a ticket for 70 cents, 7/10 of the Argentinian Peso. I found no ticket machines - just a tiny window at each station, often with a queue of people waiting to pay their 70 cents. This gets you a thin card ticket with a magnetic ink stripe which gets you through a fairly modern ticket-reading barrier. Logically, the 'A' line was the first to be built, opening in 1913. This line runs quite elderly trains - all wood inside and sliding doors you open yourself.

I took the line a few stops to Plaza Miserere and had a look around. A very vibrant area but worlds away from the smart new dock area. Buildings quite run-down but supporting lots of small businesses. One firm apparently reclaiming used cardboard boxes spilled out onto the pavement as young boys flattened boxes arriving by lorry. There's a rather grand station building, now abandoned, which was Estacion Once. I catch a 'Subte' train back to station Piedras, standing right at the front of the train by the open window which serves as air conditioning. The driver works from a tiny wooden compartment, like a wardrobe, front left (the lines are left running). It's raining heavily when I reach the street and people are sheltering under shop awnings or scurrying to the next bit of cover. I hurry one block in the rain and regain the shelter of the 'Subte' station on the more modern 'C' line. A few stops brings us to the terminus, Retiro and Buenos Aires' main station.

As I expect, this is an impressive place retaining its elegantly-proportioned original buildings and two arched train sheds. Ceramic tiled walls have very elaborate detailing from an earlier age. Set against this elegance is the hubbub of dozens of shops, stalls and snack bars and the clamour of the people thronging to and from the platforms.

Outside again, there are lines of buses and, having run the gauntlet of crossing at least twelve traffic lanes, not too busy, fortunately, I reach a clock tower carrying the British royal coat of arms. This is the Torre de los Engleses, donated by Britain to commemorate 100 years of Argentinian independence gained in the May revolution. Because the English are not flavour of the month, the clock has been renamed 'Monumental Tower' officially, but everyone still calls it 'Englishmen Tower'. A short walk along the length of the Plaza Saint Martin brings me back to the hotel.

I have to try and pace myself on these rather demanding trips so, although it's still light, I decide to stay in for the rest of the day. I spend an hour doing e-mail and blog posts in the business centre, explore the hotel and arrange for laundry to be done. Then I eat in one of the hotel's restaurants, 'La Brasserie' (coke, ministrone and an excellent Pizza Margarita twice as big as I can manage). After that, I just collapse on the bed and go into a deep sleep for a few hours, waking in the 'wee small hours' no longer sleepy. On Tuesday, I have just a few hours to see some of Buenos Aires other sights before I'm booked to fly South.

Today, Tuesday 6th February, I got up early and had a good buffet breakfast. There's a chef on hand to do things like eggs to order. Then a pleasant walk across the gardens of the Plaza San Martin where there are some very old trees to Retiro station. Decide to travel to the first stop, 3 de Febrero. Fascinating journey. I won't bore you with the details just now. Then start walking back through the huge park of Palermo. There's lots of joggers and hundreds of power walkers (or not-very-power walkers). It's getting quite warm. Leaving the Park, I pass through an area of posh apartments, embassies and museums before coming to Recoleta, old buildings brought into use as a tourist destination. There's an old church and a famous cemetery with countless mausoleums, some very old and grand.

Then I walk about ten blocks to the nearest Subte Station, Calleo on Line D. With one change I make my way to the end of Line C at Constitucion. There's a big surface railway station here called Estation Constitucion. Very impressive architecture. Seems to be two suburban railways now, one diesel, one electric. Seeing me photographing the platforms from the ticket barrier, a young man lets me through to get a better view. But seeing what a thorough job I'm making of taking photographs, he follows me and politely asks me to stop. "Security" he mutters in Spanish. But I thank him for his inital generosity.

Back to Plaza de Mayo in the centre to check out the old buildings of Casa Rosada, but there's a lot of building work going on making it difficult to see much. A visit to the nearby cathedral and then I walk along the pedestrianised Florida, lined with shops and street sellers, ten blocks to my hotel. Quick shower, finish packing and, hopefully, post this.

Click for Buenos Aires photographs
Clck for Buenos Aires railway and 'Subte' photographs

American Airlines to Argentina

The American Airlines 777 has seating 2-3-2 in business class. The flight is very full. The seat adjustments fooled me for a bit, cos it's old style without electric motors to move things! Individual video screens swing out of the seat arm. They supply an excellent Bose QC3 headphone. Even if you don't want to listen, the reduction in engine noise when wearing them is impressive. The cabin service is friendly, the food excellent. We pushed back about on time at 10:10 p.m. but spent about 45 minutes working our way to the runway, because of the number of departures around this time. It was already dark when we left but they served a good dinner before subduing the lights and expecting us all to go to sleep. I watched a couple of episodes of CSI:New York. Incidentally, whilst I was in New York, I was surprised to see major poster advertising all over the subway for CSI:NY.

It's quite a long flight - well over 10 hours, made longer by our delayed take-off. Some people deliberately take night flights to economise on hotel bills. For me, it's more convenience of timing, plus maximising daylight time at the places I visit. They served a good breakfast about 90 minutes before landing at the surprisingly small international airport in Buenos Aires. Then we stand for ten minutes or so waiting for another flight to leave the stand. Arrival formalities are surprisingly brief, my bag turns up after about 10 minutes, so I'm soon in the terminal, where I find the lady from the tour company and the driver for the 30 minute drive into the city.

I've liked American Airlines before and this trip was also good.

Sunday in New York

Up early and decided to walk to the East River to look at the United Nations buildings. The gardens and buildings are closed up at the weekends (perhaps nations are only united five days a week). Again, a very cold, bright day. Walk past the Chrysler Building, look at the New York Library and continue to the Empire State. The books warn about waiting for hours to go up it but, at 8.30 on a Sunday morning, there's no delay and I decide to go to the 86 floor observatory. One lift gets to the 80th in 50 seconds: a second lift does the remaining 6 floors in about 10 seconds. There's maybe 50 people up there - all very pleasant and better photo opportunities than in the helicopter. You can go to, I think, the 106th. I didn't go, 'cos I didn't find out 'till I was up there and they couldn't re-ticket. But I very much enjoyed the visit, which was very well organised with lots of very friendly staff.

Then catch the subway North and walk to 'The Met'. This Art Gallery and Museum has some stunning exhibits which go on and on. I only spent a couple of hours there but you could spend days. The Egyptian exhibits were excellent and they've a mouth-watering selection of paintings but there's so much there. Then, a brief walk in Central Park and subway back to the hotel to shower and check out. They'd given me a late checkout 'till 1 p.m., after which they charge. They charge for everything, and quite generously, too. With my luggage in store, a light lunch, a bit of Internet work in the business centre (they charge) and then off to see more.

Another place I've known about since my childhood is Coney Island, so I went there by Subway (although the line I went on eventually becomes elevated, so there's more to see). All the rides and most of the shops were shut and it was cold but sunny so the people were outnumbered by the rather large seagulls. But, of course, I thought it was wonderful. To stand on the Boardwalk, to walk on the sands. Then a different route back to Manhatten, check out Union Square, back to the hotel to pick up my luggage and a taxi out to JFK. Lots of traffic on the roads but my terminal was, thankfully, deserted. Friendly check in, then on to the Admiral's Club (the American Airlines' business lounge) where the excellent internet facilities are free.

And so, gentle reader, you are more or less up to date with my exploits. I could go on at length about the New Yorkers, generally loud and in-yer-face but I liked 'em. I could dwell on the buildings - even modest buildings from the '20s and '30s have some thoughtful detailing which I find very engaging and there is, of course, a plethora of major, iconic buildings. But, I'll think a little before I pontificate. I hadn't realised how many of the place names and even street names are known to all of us. How wonderful to see the originals and start to grasp how it all connects up. When I arrived, I was daunted at the size of the place but it's a reasonably structured layout and the street naming conventions mean that you quickly gain the confidence to go places.

Click for my New York photos

New York City Transit Museum

There's a very decent museum covering the history and building of the New York subways and bus system, situated in Brooklyn. On Saturday afternoon, I did my 'subway route bashing' in the direction of Brooklyn so that I could visit the Museum. Imaginatively, the museum is located in a disused subway station, so the entrance is steps down from a street corner, just like most subway station entrances (and as immortalised in countless films!). The circulating area one floor down, still with original wall tiles, houses all sorts of transport-related exhibits and the island passenger platform two floors down holds about 20 large exhibits on the two flanking tracks. These large exhibits are mainly examples of various subway cars as used over the years. Unlike a lot of museums, you can walk through and sit in all the cars. Being the weekend, there were lots of parents with children. Noisy from time to time, but anything that gets young people interested in railways is a good thing!

Click for my pictures of the Museum and NYC Transit

Saturday in New York

Got up about 05:45, buffet breakfast, purchase a Day Ticket for the Subway and go downtown one stop to Grand Central. This is another place you've known about for years and it was good to get there at last. It's been re-furbished over the last few years and looks splendid. Every internal surface is polished granite, the whole place is airy and spacious. You might find the 'Beaux Arts' style of architecture a bit over the top, but I love it. Wait 'till you see my pictures!

Eventually caught the subway to Bowling Green and walked past the Ferry Terminal to Pier 6, which is the heliport you must have seen in films. Very strict security but eventually 5 of us were loaded into a helicopter for a quick tour. Interesting but a bit sedate - not even in my top 5 helicopter flights but I'm always pleased to fly!

After the flight, walked back to look at the delightful old Staten Island Ferry Terminal. Although terribly cold, it had turned into a crystal-clear sunny day, so I couldn't resist a trip on the Staten Island ferry when it's not dark and not raining. This time, I disembarked and went a little way down the Island on its own railway, all on the surface. The Island is connected to Brooklyn by the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. This is the second one, the first being famous for having shaken itself to pieces on film. The rail trip gave good views of this impressive construction, but I couldn't fit in a trip over it. Getting a bit tired, so return to hotel for shower.

Late Saturday afternoon, I was off again to use up all the daylight. I went to Brooklyn on the Subway and visited the NYC Transit Museum then I checked out the suburban terminus of the Long Island Rail Road (there's a surprise). After dark, I went to have a look at the Port Authority Bus Terminal, which is modern. It's HUGE. New York is a strange mixture of old and new juxtaposed. I ended up walking at the North End of Central park, towards Harlem and when I had trouble finding my subway station, it's the only time I felt worried. Although I'm startled when strangers address me, it's always been a friendly comment or, on about seven occasions asking directions about the subway (I managed to help each time). Only my second day in New York but already I feel at home here.

Click for my New York photos

New York

I'm staying at the Waldorf Astoria in Park Lane. This is another of the famous Art Deco style hotels which I tend to look at. The public rooms are grand and the facilities and fittings are fine but it doesn't quite do it for me. American rooms always seem small and low ceilinged. First order of business was a shower then curiosity about the city got the better of me and I decided to go out exploring. The cab ride in from the airport had shown me that New York is large, scruffy and tall. City centre streets are like canyons because the buildings, even the older ones, are invariably tall.

The hotel directed me to the nearest subway station which I found without difficulty, but purchasing a ticket proved a little harder. Although there are staff in booths, tickets are dispensed by machines which only give limited change. Since I'd have lost out if I'd used a twenty dollar bill, I first walked a block to a Pharmacy (more like a small supermarket) and got change by buying a block of Cadbury's Dairy Milk. Incidentally, in the USA Cadbury's is made by Hershey. It tasted very good, but was nothing like Cadbury's at home. At last, armed with a day ticket, I set off downtown. I'll try to keep the 'railway talk' for another post. The system appears run-down but very well-used. It was the Friday afternoon start of rush hour. My train terminated at City Hall so I came 'up top' and decided to walk for a while. Boy, it was cold! Puddles of water were freezing. To the East, I got my first view of Brooklyn Bridge but I walked South on Broadway, skirting the Wall Street financial district, and headed towards Battery Park. By this time, it was raining and starting to get dark. The street vendors around Battery Park were packing up to go and what I took to be the last sightseeing boat of the day was docking. Looking out over New York Harbour, I was struck by the similarities with Liverpool. The Statue of Liberty was visible, with the light in the torch. It was quite moving.

The esplanade took me towards the East River and a large modern building which turned out to be the new terminal for the Staten Island Ferry. Years ago, I saw pictures of the Staten Island Ferry and so I was keen to try it out. I was even more keen when I discovered it's a free ferry!

There were hundreds of people waiting to board but they're large ferries and I got on without difficulty. The ferries are 'double ended' with two wheelhouses to minimise manoevring at the dock. A few keen types moved to the small open deck that would become the bow when we left, and I joined them, at the price of getting a little wet. The experience of crossing New York Harbour in the gathering dark, passing fairly close to Governor's Island, Ellls Island and the Statue of Liberty was worth a little dampness. After twenty minutes, we were docking at Staten Island. They've built a posh new terminal here, as well.

I disembarked but, feeling a little tired and damp, went back into the departure side and queued to catch the same ferry back. I had another great, but damp, trip. Manhatten looked like a mirage in the rain - the dark sky suffused with an orange glow and the faint outline of tall buildings drifting in and out of view. When we docked, I decided to have a hot chocolate drink at a takeaway in the terminal building. The very nice lady who served me said "Where y' from? You've got a great accent - just like Katherine Hepburn!". I didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered, so I settled on flattered.

I caught a 'One Train' from South Ferry Subway Station which is part of the ferry terminal (or will be when all the building work in progress is completed). I got off at 34th Street to look at Pennsylvania Station. The terminal building has been rebuilt but the 'tracks' (we'd say 'platforms') are largely unchanged. I looked at a couple of New Jersey Transit trains before continuing North on Seventh, past Macy's to Times Square. It was still raining hard but Times Square was full of tourists. The sheer amount of light from all the advertising displays was amazing. For blocks around, the sky is light like a false dawn from all the diffused light. Finally, I walked East to Grand Central and made my way back to the hotel, to sleep a little before more fun on Saturday.

My New York pictures.

Atlantic Crossing

We board via gate 10 but instead of the usual airbridge, we walk down a long ramp and stairs to travel on a fleet of buses to an outside stand where our 747, 'Charlie Victor' is waiting. I'm on the upper deck, in business class. This aircraft has been re-vamped as 'New Club World'. The paired 'love-seat' arrangement I've previously remarked on is retained but the seats are new and restyled and the electric recline now gives a completely flat bed when required. The table is larger and there's a new entertainment system which offers video-on-demand with 22 new release films, 25 older films and scores of other things, all controlled by a touch screen and provided with a high-quality noise-cancelling headset.

Soon after take-off, the ground is lost beneath cloud. By the time this clears, we're already over the Irish Sea. As usual, I watch, fascinated, from our vantage point six miles high as we run along the Irish coast, pass overhead Cork and finally leave land behind near Killarney. Now we settle in to the Great Circle track across the Atlantic, travelling at five hundred miles an hour.

After drinks (I stick to my customary orange juice), they serve a reasonable meal. I have Buffalo Mozzarella cheese with salad as the starter, followed by salmon fish cakes with parsley and caper sauce. The dessert is creme caramel with poached sultanas and it's excellent. The cup of tea, by contrast, is foul. I decide to watch 'The Queen' with Helen Mirren and enjoy it. The only time I get to see new releases is when I'm on an aircraft.

As I write this, we're about midway across the Atlantic in bright sun, fluffy white clouds below and blue sky above. A lot of the passengers are taking their post-prandial siesta in the comfort of our cabin but outside the air temperature is 50 degrees below zero.

Later in the flight, as we approach Newfoundland with about 1200 miles left to run, they serve a little tub of ice cream - not any ice cream but Purbeck Award Winning ice cream. In the old propeller aircraft days, most transatlantic flights would stagger into Gander, Newfoundland to refuel but now, it's just a name on the map displaying our progress. For a while, I can see the broken sheet ice as we skirt the coast, before low-level cloud obscures the view.

Soon we're landing at a rather grey JFK and disembarking. There's a queue at immigration but it doesn't take too long and the immigration officer is friendly. By this time, my luggage has arrived on the carousel and customs formalities take only moments. I decide I'm too tired to do anything but sit in a taxi and within minutes I'm on my way to the hotel in a yellow cab.

Click for photos of Heathrow prior to departure

The Game's Afoot!

Greetings from Heathrow Terminal 4! A new adventure starts! Well, I've got as far as the British Airways Lounge, having checked in on the BA175 to New York so, as you'd expect, not much has happened yet. As possible, I'll try to update you as the journey unfolds. The hardest parts were actually getting packed and then leaving my dog, Tai. But, now I'm committed, I'm starting to feel a tinge of anticipation. I'm not really a natural traveller: I have to screw myself up to actually go anywhere but, when I do, I normally arrange a fairly packed programme so that there's no chance of me getting bored. This trip is another round-the-world, mainly Southern hemisphere job, once again heading West.

We are now so blase about long-distance air travel but this kind of journey would not have been possible for my father and would have been incredible to my grandfather. What a shame that mankind's technical mastery of the skies has not been matched in other areas of human endeavour where we seem to learn so little over the centuries. We now have the additional guilt that these very flights are believed by many (but not all) scientists to be destroying our environment. Some years ago, I acquired a small area of woodland and I like to think that the carbon dioxide being absorbed by the crop is "offsetting" the damage my travels may produce.

My First Flight

In the 1960s, we'd been designing digital selective call equipment for use in Private Mobile Radio equipment. Our client, Gerry Gardner, was a wonderful character with his own firm in Canterbury. He was bidding on a large contract for Lancashire Constabulary and he'd decided to charter a light aircraft to take him up North for a meeting. I was never sure whether it was a desire to avoid the long car journey, impress the Client or a bit of both. I was pleased, because he offered to land at the small airfield at Wolverhampton en route to pick me up.

Light aircraft can fly under two regimes: Visual Flight Rules (VFR) or Instrument Flight Rules (IFR). The aircraft Gerry had chartered was only equipped for VFR, so the flight could only go ahead if the weather conditions met the 'Minima', the worst case conditions under which VFR flight is allowed. On the appointed day, the forecast for the en-route weather was poor, so plans were deferred to the following day. The weather was even worse that day, resulting in plans being re-arranged for the following Monday. Originally, we'd intended to fly to the airfield near Preston used for test flying of military aircraft, but it was not available on the Monday, for some reason, so the destination was altered to Squires Gate, Blackpool.

On Monday, I confirmed by telephone that the flight would take place, then made my way to the local airfield, Pendeford. Aircraft maintenance work was going on in the hangar, but I was concerned to be told "The 'field's not open on Mondays, 'cos there's no ATCO on duty". With no Air Traffic Control Officer, there was nobody to answer the radio or pass the local conditions to an incoming aircraft. Not feeling very optimistic, I decided to hang around and see what happened. On schedule, an aircraft could be heard approaching from the South. The aircraft made a complete circuit at low level and then landed on the grass runway. When it taxied to a stop, I approached the aircraft, a single-engined Beech with the distinctive Beech V-tail, and was relieved to see my customer sitting next to the pilot.

I was soon installed in the seat at the back of the small cabin and we took off and headed North. The pilot explained that, when he got no response on the radio, he did a low level circuit to physically check that it was safe to land and then 'let down'. I was astonished at the informality, but delighted I'd not missed my flight. I was so fascinated with the aerial views of the landscape, I didn't even think about being frightened. I was amazed at just how much detail on the ground could be made out - a cross between a highly-detailed model and an Ordnance Survey map. Nowadays, people are more used to aerial views and we have access to tools like Google Earth but to me, back in the 1960s, the flight was a stunning experience.

Well, we arrived safely, travelled the last few miles by road to the meeting and made our presentation but by the time we returned to Squires Gate, the sky had darkened and a storm threatened. The pilot said conditions were still acceptable, provided we took off without delay. As we taxied, the small aircraft was buffeted by the wind and then the lightning started! In our exposed position each lightning strike was clearly visible and accompanied by a loud 'crack' from the radio on the cabin loudspeaker. We couldn't hear the actual thunder for the noise of the engine at 'take-off revs' as we bounced down the runway and took off.

After a few minutes, we'd passed out of the storm and continued South in pleasant evening conditions. However, low cloud made it hard for the pilot to pick out landmarks and I was not sure whether he was joking when he said he was not exactly sure where we were. Looking down, I could easily recognise the town of Stafford and the railway line running through it. I pointed this out and added "If you follow that railway line branching to the right, it will lead you to Wolverhampton". So that's what we did. Once we got in the vicinity of Wolverhampton, the pilot spotted the airfield and was able to land safely, drop me off, then take off to complete his journey South. Despite the "alarums and excursions" of the day, I was thoroughly taken with the business of flying and I've since taken every opportunity to fly in aircraft, large and small.

And the contract? Yes, we got it, giving rise to lots more experiences.

Lionsmeet 2002

The 'Lion' supporters group, the Old Locomotive Committee (or, more simply, OLCO), holds a competition for live-steam models of 'Lion' every year. This report originally appeared in the Old Locomotive Committee newsletter 'Lionsheart'.

In 2002, Lionsmeet was held at Bromsgrove SME. The host club extended the usual warm welcome to OLCO members and the weather was very hot. Only the traffic congestion on the M5 and adjacent roads detracted somewhat from what proved an excellent location. It’s always sad that so few of our membership are able to attend Lionsmeet. Ownership of a model is by no means necessary and attendees are assured of a rewarding day, whatever their interests.

Bromsgrove SME lies in a rural location on the edge of town, adjacent to the Avoncroft Museum of Buildings. The museum is worth a visit in its own right. Together with a wide assortment of re-erected historic buildings, it houses the National Telephone Kiosk Collection and working telephone exchanges! The Birmingham – Bristol main line lies a few hundred yards away and the day was punctuated with the sounds of passing trains. Particularly noticeable were the HS125’s taking a run at the Lickey incline.

The multi-gauge elevated track lies in mature grounds with elaborate covered steaming bays, a substantial station and adjacent clubroom. The original oval track has recently been lengthened into a dumb-bell shape, with a 6 m.p.h. limit currently on the new track. Running is anti-clockwise with a colour light home signal at the approach to the station and a colour light platform starting signal leaving the station. The home signal also has a calling-on aspect for bringing trains into an already-occupied station. Because the all-over station roof impairs the visibility of the starting signal, there is a banner repeater signal under the station roof. Opening the gates to the platform area automatically places the signals at danger and there is a ‘Train Ready to Start’ switch for the station staff which illuminates an ‘R’ sign adjacent to the starting signal. The site slopes down from North to South, so the line through the station is downhill in the direction of running whilst the "back straight" is "collar work".

The passenger cars are substantial bogie vehicles in ‘Inter City’ livery, weighing in at 300 lbs each and provided with vacuum brakes and battery-powered exhausters. When not in use, they are stored adjacent to the station. An overhead crane is used to lift each car from storage, traverse it above the running track and lower it onto the rails.

The parallel steaming bays are connected by a traverser to a "shed road" which runs to the station parallel to the running track. At the station, another traverser moves the locomotive across to the running track, but a few inches above it. Finally, a re-railing ramp is used to get the locomotive from the traverser to the running track. This means that the running track rails are unbroken, avoiding problems of ensuring accurate alignment when a conventional traverser is used.

In addition, there is a separate elevated ‘garden railway’ of 16mm and gauge 1 with some fearful looking mixed gauge pointwork. In the afternoon a variety of radio-controlled live steam models performed on this track.

As you may readily imagine, on public days hundreds of passengers can be carried. Lionsmeet, however, was arranged as a private event, although a number of museum visitors came to watch the proceedings. There were plenty of members of the host club present and beverages and snacks were available in the clubhouse. OLCO stalwart David Neish was an early arrival, accompanied by his son, Andrew. Jon Swindlehurst had brought his ‘Lion’. Frank Jones, our host at Bromsgrove, was fielding his own ‘Lion’. This had been completed and received its first boiler certificate only days before, so Lionsmeet was the "running in turn" for this brand new locomotive! Later, Alan Bibby arrived. Last year Alan won Lionsmeet at Leyland SME and Alan was keen to defend his title. Another Bromsgrove SME member had his unfinished ‘Lion’ on display.

As usual, informal running took place in the morning. This is when competitors can "learn the road" and develop strategies for the later competition running. We were treated to the usual exciting spectacle of diminuitive locomotives whizzing round at improbable speeds. Frank Jones’ locomotive performed so well that he very kindly allowed a number of lucky OLCO members and Bromsgrove SME members to take her for a spin. The writer was only prised from Frank’s engine with some difficulty. For a "fresh off" she ran really sweetly – a tribute to Frank’s engineering skills. Although some test running was carried out using a driving trolley and a single passenger car, the trailing weight combined with the curvature and adverse gradient made running rather uncertain. In the competition, all competitors elected to haul only a driving trolley and a second driving trolley for the observer. As a consequence, the winner would effectively be the competitor who achieved the greatest distance run in 10 minutes. As David Neish commented, this meant the driver who was prepared to exceed the 6 m.p.h. speed restriction by the largest amount.

Frank Jones was the first to compete and, as usual, started with a trial circuit. He elected to run with the Dynamometer car and a passenger car. On the falling grade leaving the station, he quickly worked speed up to 7.5 mph. However, on the left-hander over the bridge and the rising gradient to the back straight, speed fell until he stalled completely. A push start allowed him to bring the train back to the station, where the load was reduced to the dynamometer car and a driving trailer for the observer. The initial circuit had clocked up 4,500 work done and a distance of 1200 feet. His 10 minute trial started at 2:35:45 and speed was quickly worked up to 8mph, falling to 7mph over the bridge and 6.5mph on the back straight. The first circuit was completed in just over 2 minutes and the station passed at around 8mph. Peak speed recorded was about 9mph. Matters continued well until the observer’s driving trolley derailed on the right hander leading into the new extension. After a quick examination, the trolley was re-railed and the run continued with less than a minute lost. At the end of the ten minutes, John Hawley determined that an allowance could be made for the lost time, but, even with this allowance, Frank did not do enough work to take the trophy. But he has built a very fine ‘Lion’ which we hope to see running in the next LIONSMEET!

Next, Alan Bibby came onto the running track for his warm-up lap and started his timed run with the same load as Frank and producing a similar drawbar pull of around ten pounds. Alan held quite a constant speed, generally between 7.5 and 8mph. Work done comfortably exceeded Frank’s performance.

The third contestant was Jon Swindlehurst, again with the same load and similar drawbar pull. Fairly constant speeds around 8 or 9mph were sustained and his work done figure was higher than Alan’s.

David Neish came next and, dispensing with a warm-up lap, immediately started his timed run. After three laps, speeds of 10mph were being seen and, after 10 minutes, the results gave a strong result for David.

The locomotive was then handed over to Andrew Neish, who was the final competitor. With a well warmed-through steed, Andrew made good times and speeds of 10mph were seen on the second lap. Although the observer had some uneasy moments on the lightweight vehicle, knowing it had ‘come off’ once, we didn’t derail (an unbraked vehicle at the rear of a train on the ‘big railway’ is often referred to as a ‘swinger’ – quite appropriate) and, at the end of the measured period, Andrew had just managed to beat his father’s performance, winning LIONSMEET, I think, for the first time.

The necessity for competitors to run with similar loads took out some of the gamesmanship which is usually a feature of the competition but it was, nonetheless, a stirring performance by all the entrants.

Railway signalling: Deepfields

Larger version of diagram

Deepfields was one of the Stour Valley signal boxes I worked unofficially in the 1960s. Bloomfield Junction was the next box towards Birmingham (left of diagram), Spring Vale Sidings the next box in the Wolverhampton direction (right of box diagram). It was a standard ex-L.N.W. box with a brick base. At that time, Deepfields box was only open during the day and "switched out" at night.

On the up side of the line at Sprng Vale lay a steelworks usually referred to as 'Stewarts and Lloyds'. This complex extended along the line almost to Deepfields and gave rise to varied railway traffic in and out. The 'third line' on the Spring Vale side of Deepfields was an up and down permissive block goods line. 'Permissive' meant that a second, or subsequent, goods train could be admitted onto the occupied line. The 'fourth line' on the Spring Vale side gave access to a fan of sidings which extended to Spring Vale. There was no block signalling on these sidings and the connection at the Deepfields end was very rarely used.

Most of the running signals were upper quadrant semaphores but the Up Starter (lever 39) was a multiple-aspect colour light. Deepfields cleared it from red to yellow and then Bloomfield Junction cleared the signal from yellow to green as his distant signal. Occupation and clearance of the track circuit in the rear of the signal automatically put the signal back to 'Red', even with the lever still reverse in the frame. Similarly, Bloomfield's Down Starter had been replaced by a colour light so Deepfields' Down Distant lever 1 changed Bloomfield's colour light from yellow to green.

The lever sequence for trains on the Up Main was 40, 39 and 41 and finally 42. The top six inches of lever 39 had been removed, as a reminder to signalmen not to take a swing at it, because the only action of this lever was to work an electrical contact box under the floor. In contrast, the inner distant lever 41 and outer distant lever 42 needed a good pull to get the weight bars "off".

The lever sequence for trains on the down line was 2, 3, 4 and 1. Lever 1 was shortened, being the colour light.

The block shelf mounted two Fletcher's 'DN' absolute block instruments of ex-L.N.W. pattern, plus a third special block instrument for the permissive bi-directional up and down goods line. Although this instrument had two block indicator needles, only one could be used at a time, according to whether the train was 'coming' or 'going'. In addition, the commutator which allowed the block to be set at 'LINE CLEAR', 'TRAIN ON LINE' or, when not in use, 'LINE CLOSED' also included a mechanical reminder device which displayed the total number of trains in the section in a small window.

There were lots of points of interest in both the layout and operation at Deepfields and you can read more at 'Deepfields in Detail'.