Shortly before last weekend’s car-related unfortunate incident (yes, she’s still stuck out at Goose Green and no, we haven’t yet found a suitable replacement), I wanted to go all Neil Armstrong on things and head over to a place called Elize Cove, just on the other side of the peninsular that Stanley sits on, to go where no man had before…for 34 years. I had first seen Elize Cove on one of the many out-dated maps adorning our front room wall (they aren’t printing them this century). I rode toward the curved beach on the map only to find that the track there was lined by the familiar red signs dangling from barbed wire. At the end, blocking one route was the local tip and blocking the other was a group of friendly Zimbabwean BACTEC workers in suspiciously armoured clothing using their sadly-acquired de-mining skills for the benefit of the Islands. Eliza Cove didn’t turn out to be the ideal location.
Fast forward several months and I hear on the Stanley grapevine that Eliza Cove has been de-mined and, for the first time in 34 years, people can once again walk the bay. Irresistible.
I’ve spent many hours wandering the beaches for treasure here, not sure what to find but expecting to turn up something cool (I’ve had whale ribs nearly my height, a complete glass medicine bottle from London from between 1890-1940 and some Falkland pebbles which we’ll discuss at a later date) but so far I’ve not been pleased with what I’ve turned up. Scrambling over the rocks at Elize Cove BLASTED all of that away:
To me, these looked suspiciously like cannon barrels and had clearly been there some time, especially as no-one had been there in 34 years. A call and meeting with the excellent Stanley Museum saw us checking these out with some local historical enthusiasts, but my dreams were soon to be DETONATED. It seems, after closer analysis, that these may just be very old gas canisters washed up from a sunken fishing ship. I CANNON believe it. It seemed as if I had inflated my find, perhaps guilty of being a little BOMBASTIC. Still, the Museum want to haul them up and find out what they are so await news on that. Apparently, if they are cannons I am not allowed to keep them and create the best coffee table in the world. I regret calling them a little bit for that.
On the plus side, the Cove also must have been an old WWII firing range or something because these 1941 cases were everywhere (that’s Han’s hand, not mine) so it wasn’t completely history-free.
Puns as requested by Simon. Sorry.