A Gardener’s View of the Falklands
At first glance, the Falklands seem windswept, barren, inhospitable. I noticed there were no trees, it was very scrubby and sparse. Even the people exploring in the early days wrote it off as a wretched place. Before coming here, I’m ashamed to say, my expectation based on British television, was of a couple of rocks in the South Atlantic with war memorials.
Amundsen anchored at New Island.
Nonetheless, I was drawn to the idea of spending time in a wild, remote region, experiencing nature writ raw and large. As a keen gardener and hiker, I was more intent on exploring the land than the ins-and-outs of sailing. At our first anchorage, Pebble Island, we stepped out of the zodiac and straight into peat. I was amazed! Something very rare you might only find in the peat bogs of Scotland or Ireland. Where did all this peat come from?
“Nerd’s eye view” of peat on Pebble Island - formed by acid grasslands, spaghum bogs, and tussac habitats.
In Europe, we’re accustomed to three levels of plants: ground cover, shrubs, and trees. Here, the ground cover is really the whole story. Your eye has to get attuned. Up close, it’s far from barren, as much of the beauty is only 5cm high. As we walked, I noticed the incredible textures and patterns of the lichens and moss.
One plant that caught my eye is the Sea Cabbage with its large, silver, furry leaves and bright yellow flowers growing in the sand just above the tide line. The furry leaves are an adaptation that protects it from salt water and winds. Once, Magellan’s ships were surveying the Falklands and one group found sea cabbage and managed to preserve it. Unknown at the time, the Vitamin C it contained proved key to stopping a scurvy rampage.
Sea cabbage at Saunders Island.
As we spent more time in the West Falklands, it became apparent Tussac Grass is at the heart of the ecosystem. Growing up to 3 metres, it often fills the role of shrubs and trees. We observed penguins, albatross and sea lions resting in the tussac, a vital habitat to a majority of the Falklands’ endemic wildlife. Tussac grass even forms its own microclimate, holding moisture above and below ground, quenching thirst in times of drought. This allows it to house insects that form a consistent, critical food supply to birds, and tucked in the leaves are even found species new-to-science, such as micro-moths.
Black-browed Albatross chick with adult Rockhopper Penguin concealed by tussac.
Even more fascinating, it’s a grass structure that can reach 200 years old. That’s astonishing! Grasses can be long-lived but typically they outgrow their strength. Tussac gets both taller and stronger. Like a coral reef, a tussac bog is a structure of plants living, dying, and building on top of each other. Furthermore, 10,000 years of decayed tussac turned out to be the peat source we encountered on our first walk off the beach. We learned, the Falklands holds the largest peat reserves of all the UK overseas territories.
Tussac grass is very enticing to cattle and sheep, tasting like a sweet onion. A hundred plus years of intensive grazing has denuded much of the native flora from the landscape, leaving the heavy clay soil bare. This coupled with high winds and heavy rain causes erosion. We saw parts of islands crumbling away into the sea.
Rachel, Bonnie and Yannick hiking in tussac grass at West Point.
In some places, like West Point Island, the landowners began replanting tussac in the 1800s, while still maintaining grazing areas for sheep. Decades later, these case studies of tussac replanting are providing the foundation for how a conservation programme can slow erosion and boost biodiversity. Groups like Falklands Conservation and Antarctic Research Trust are led replanting projects: we learned how single individuals have been striving year-round in all weathers to bring back tussac throughout the most vulnerable areas. As soon as it’s back, birds start to reappear who’ve been away for years.
Rachel and Delia Hazell reviewing tussac replanting on Dyke Island.
Exploring the West Falklands by sailboat and by foot has been a voyage of discovery. I was blown away that there are over 140 native plants, which all have remarkable adaptations for enduring the challenging conditions of these windswept, not-so-barren-after-all islands. Seeing the nuanced relationships between plant life and bird life has made me more eager to understand the birdlife back home.
Land Rover driving overland on windy cliffs of West Point Island.
The locals we’ve met have been just as robust, resilient, and resourceful as the flora — always looking forwards, even as they face the huge challenges of just existing. Particularly as gardeners and island caretakers, instead of putting tennis courts in, they’re protective and nurturing the precious land they’re wardens of: holding in balance the roles of farmers and conservationists. One bit of advice from the locals for next time: the diddle-dee berry makes delightful jams, although apparently the teaberry is sweeter in flavour.
Mountain berries
Advisory guidance from Giselle Hazell
Photos by Rachel Summers, Yannick Tarres, and Kate Schnippering
Rachel Summers
Competent Crew Student
