You certainly know you’re getting old when the anniversary of a war comes along, a war only luck kept you from being in the front line, and it’s slipped from your memory.
|Davy Jones-bound ... The Argentian World War 2 light cruiser was sunk, taking 323 young men with her to a watery grave in the South Atlantic. Thanks to Wikipedia for the photo.|
However, seeing the anniversary announced today, memory was elbowed and the scenes returned.
I’m sure most will remember the Falklands War.
It was the madness a blunt Mrs Thatcher might well have avoided with the desire to, with active Intelligence and firm diplomacy. Not knowing of trouble stirring, I had just sailed into the war zone, that very odd harbour of Port Stanley, in a rather odd craft, the schooner Spirit of Pentax.
I had just circumnavigated alone, rounding Cape Horn only a few days earlier. Plagued by troubles on the chartered homebuilt craft, I needed engineering help with a malevolent self-steering gear.
|No strangers, please ... Some of the locals who have only cold shoulders for civic welcomes. Photo by Yuriy Rzhemovskiy on Unsplash, with many thanks.|
I tell of the event in my book, Loner (Hodder and Stoughton), and of that oddly eccentric yet often lovable society on the island. Many were wonderful to me, hospitality personified.
However, being very far from anywhere, many residents had become about as reclusive as a colony abandoned on the moon.
I was about to attempt a crossing of the highly-challenging Southern Ocean between South America and South Africa, a treacherous stretch of the Southern Ocean heavy with storms and massive swathes of thick fog.
Strange how Fate can interfere with plans. I often heard malevolence about the Argies. However, life in New Zealand as a Pom child had accustomed me to that mild form of xenophobia.
|Not so alone sometimes ... With a war about to happen, Spirit of Pentax arrived in Port Stanley for urgent work. The word 'urgent', though, didn't seem to be understood on the island.|
I had been a journalist for half of my working life, so it was natural that we had lots of common ground to share. Wonderfully, the interview lasted for a few days.
I began to hear stronger and louder rumours of likely troubles from the island’s comparatively nearest neighbour. So much so, I recorded in Loner ...…
‘When Argentina tourists arrived, small groups of Stanley people picketed the shoreboats. With placards and abuse they told the Argies to piss off.’
Evi's newspaper called her home. She said, ‘May God bless you on your voyage. I go to shop to get cigarettes, I come back soon. Just think that is the way it is.’
She blew kisses. She called I see you soon as she walked up into the island's almost perpetual gale and off the boat.
Argie-hate grew in volume so with the self-steering repaired at last, I noted, ‘I was very pleased to be heading back to the relative calm of the Southern Ocean.’
I made (endured) the crossing, won a Guinness Book of Records record for the passage to Cape Town, and hardly had taken off my Henri-Lloyds, so it seemed, than …
‘I heard on the radio that the Argentinians had invaded the Falklands.’
No surprise to the locals, I suspected. How surprising that it had caught the then PM on the back foot.
Her thumbs down sunk the light cruiser, General Belgrano, drowning 323 crewmen – almost half of the Argentinian deaths in the war, reports Wikipedia - and perhaps that appeased the lady.
Thanks very much for visiting the mostly Tuesday and Thursday blogs for my adventure writing. The blogs (as they call 'em) are introduced each time on Facebook Facebook dot com/Sailingtopurgatory and on Blogger,
Wikipedia: Falklands War
Wikipedia: Battle of San Carlos
Loner: Still available from Amazon(!)