Codes of Survival -Scripts - a series of short factionalized stories based on historical events in the Subantarctic Islands written by Lloyd Godman to accompany the exhibition and installation - 1993 - © Lloyd Godman

Codes of Survival - Scripts

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1978 - THE LOSS OF A COMPASS         

The view from the top of the Hooker Hills  was unexpected  as the land seemed visually much flatter than the frustrating climb through the tangled sections of Dracophyllum scrub would suggest. The panoramic spread of the main island  and the smaller off shore islands from the heights is impressive to say the least. It stretches out in all directions  and confirms the windswept ruggedness of the islands. 

Mt Eden  is marked clearly on the map as a rock knoband it sat prominently on the skyline to the southeast, while the long arm of Larrie harbour spread out before me stretching off towards the fragmented coastline where Ewing, Ocean, Rose and Enderby islands  hugged close to the main island.  To the north I could see the sloping valley that led down to Matheson Bay, where the strong winds swept up from the ocean and across the tops in a rush. Further around
to my left North Point and Blackhead rose up clearly visible in the morning sun. The sight was enough to delay the plot lines for several minuets while I gained some breath back, stretched my tired back without a pack, and admired this wonderfully wild land below me. The weather was quite calm with the sky clear and fine during my assent early in the morning at 7 a.m. And later when I started the first plot line about 9.30 a.m. it still held the promise of a good day. As it was so fine I decided to climb to the summit and work down the slope in the chance that the weather could suddenly change. Later in the day this proved to be a good strategy.  During the first plot line, the bold snow tussocks sat upright and dignified in the still airs though their heads still had a definite lean for the last blow across the tops.

However, by the time I had finished the first line a strong s/westerly breeze had sprung up from nowhere and it sent the fine white tussock heads dancing into life with the play of sunlight through them. At this highest altitude, an abundance of Hebe Williami was just starting to project its bright blue flowers, making an attractive feature in the plant cover. Much of the plant cover is modified because of the destructive browsing of goats and pigs. Unfortunately, magnificent species like Pleurophyllum and Bulbinella  are now reduced to a few hardy specimens clinging to the rocky out crops far out of searching animal teeth.

It's criminal to think that people actually released a wide range of animals onto these islands for food. On the islands where they were released the vegetation is so modified, and without a visit to another unchanged island, it is hard to imagine how it must have been. This, the main Auckland Island, has goats and pigs that cause damage to the plants, and the others animals that were here have either been removed or died out by themselves from the unsuitable climate. It would be great if steps could be taken to eradicate the goats and pigs from here at some point in the future, and there was a chance for these plants to return. Adams Island only ever had sheep, they have long since been removed and the island has made a full recovery, becoming a show piece of endemic species.

I had been so engrossed in my work, that quite without any warning I had not sensed a change in the weather. But as I was about half way through the next plot line, the wind had become so strong that trying to retain and write on the flapping pages of my data book was almost impossible. Now the tussocks were whipping wild in the air and lashing violently at my legs. The still silence had turned to a chorus of ethereal wind songs with the haunting whistles in the rock crevices, the whipping hiss in the tussocks and the buffeting force of the wind on my clothing and the land. Away to the south west was a spiralling line of dark black cloud that annulled any vision and obliterated all. It became largerand larger until a dark shadow over took my position andthe sun was gone except for the disappearing rays on the geography to the North. I felt pretty insignificant in the centre of this elemental intensity happening before me and within 15 minutes, I 
lay defenceless in shelter as the voracious storm pounced around the hills like a wild animal. 

I had to seek shelter from the ravenous gusts, but on the way to a rock out crop, I had been blown flat to the grown three times and the last 50 meters to the shelter of a rocky out crop I could barely manage on hands and knees. A wall of even blacker darkness descended as the heavens opened and a torrent of wind driven hail bounced off the ground spinning across the terrain with the direction of the wind. Such elemental intensity is hard to imagine yet describe. Almost in fear of my life, I crouched in a fetal position, below a rocky bluff about 100 meters away from the plot line I had been at minutes before. I sank into the warmth of the clothes that I wore while a thousand thoughts of shipwrecks, castaways and these unique plants I had been plotting that thrive so well in this environment
raced through my mind; this really was the Auckland Islands.

Within half an hour the last ragged clouds of the front were scurrying away revealing a much kinder sky with even the odd patch of blue here and there. The wind had lost some of its intensity, well at least enough to stand upright once more, while about the ground lay the large glistening hail stones now beginning to melt. It was an amazing experience I would have exchanged nothing for. Then, as I slithered from the protection of the tight corner of this impromptu shelter, my pack slipped with me, spilling objects in all directions. In the haste to find shelter, it seemed that I had completely forgotten to close the dam zip. Some objects landed safely on the ground in front of me while others rolled off and over a steep ledge. There was a solid tangle of plants that grew on this side of the rock which had grown slightly taller due to the extra shelter offered from the extreme gales.