MercoPress. South Atlantic News Agency
Eighty Years On.
Born at Black Rock, on East Falkland in 1923, I thought readers might be interested in my early life as a shepherd's son and in camp life in general.
At five and a half my first recollection is starting school, when travelling teacher, Mr David Honeyman, arrived to teach my elder brother and me. This was a great novelty, but soon after the school door closed I had a different opinion, although I soon settled to the task ahead.
The travelling teacher had a special beat, covered on horseback, giving each camp house a three-week term, approximately once a year. You were allocated homework to keep you going until the next visit. Subjects were: basic money calculations and arithmetic as a priority, reading, writing and spelling. I was never taught history, only a little about England. Most of what I know I learnt myself during my early bunkhouse days, in the long dark evenings. Just before I finished school, the teachers' visits were reduced to two-week terms, but with each end house receiving four weeks. I believe this was due to problems recruiting teachers and more pupils to cater for.
Communications throughout Camp were virtually nil, although there was a telephone line between Stanley and Darwin, with poles 80 yards apart for 49 miles. Mount Pleasant was the only camp house connected. Other camp houses were added in the ?30s and communications slowly improved.
Fire Signals Prior to the telephone, contact between camp houses was by personal visit and a unique Fire Signal system. If help was required, one fire was lit on the highest land near the house. Two fires meant a doctor was needed. Whoever spotted the signal would go to the doctor in Darwin, and then with him to the house that had raised the alarm. A three fire signal indicated a death. Fire signals were still used late into the 1940s and I spotted and responded to two. Once I went with the doctor to a family after a two fire signal, the other was to a shepherd who had been thrown from his horse and crippled. It had been five days before he had struggled to a high point to raise the signal. Fortunately, each case ended successfully.
Camp life was unique, healthy but strenuous for husband and wife alike, with youngsters sharing in the daily chores as soon as they could. Most Camp houses had very large families, especially in the earlier days. Most children were born at home with the nearest neighbour acting as midwife and staying until the mother could return to normal duties. Very rarely were there failures in what was expected of them. Incidentally, my youngest daughter was probably one of the last births to take place in Camp, at High Hill in 1952, under my Mother's supervision.
My Father looked after 3,200 sheep. Once spring arrived the hard work began, first peat cutting, and then work such as shearing and dipping (nowadays that is deemed unnecessary). This took him away from September to the end of April, and mother took on the daily chores. This included weeding the vegetable garden, ricking the peat during drying, milking, making butter and preserving milk for winter when the snows arrived and the cows were turned loose to graze until spring. A cow herd averaged between 12 and 15 animals.
Rearing and taming the calves was an art in itself. If recovered when only two days old, the job was easy, but if found at two to three weeks it was different. At this age they could be very vicious and one could be injured if care were not taken. After ten to fourteen days of attention they became friendlier and easier to handle. Whilst young they were tethered out in the afternoons. At six weeks of age they were separated from their mothers and put to graze in a separate paddock, a dog was a handy weapon at this stage.
My parents lived in a camp house for thirty-two years and each year returned 12 to 15 calves, tamed and named, to the main herd. Each camp house had 60 to 70 head of cattle. Wouldn't the new abattoir authorities be grateful if this were so today. Most farms never recognised the efforts of their employees, and their wives, in keeping the herds free from wild cattle.
From the age of eight I had an active role in animal care, milking, handling calves and feeding dogs (four or five being normal for sheep mustering). Eggs were essential and each house had poultry. In the laying season eggs were preserved in waterglass and would keep for about two years.
At 15 the time came for me to earn my own keep. On December 1st, 1938, I began work as houseboy in Darwin, for the manager, Mr Goddard, at £2 per month. Having left home, all the work I used to do fell on Mother who, moving on in years, found it hard to cope during the long season months. Assistance was difficult to obtain and my Father, on £7 per month, had little cash to spare for this.
I hope this gives some indication of what life was like for a young boy living in an isolated camp house all those years ago.
J. Stan Smith Published: Falkland Islands Newsletter
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