February 18 - The Sad Story of Kyle of East Falkland

You might be able to tell I have time on my hands today as this segment of the cruise winds down.

By now you know that I like to talk to everyone about everything and I love hearing little vignettes of their lives. Here’s one from the other day when I took my trip across the bogs on East Falkland.  I have to set the stage first though.  The Falklands and the inhabitants thereof are as British as they can be. They stand for God, the Union Jack, and the King.  Years ago Al and I stopped in a pub in Stanley and we could have been in a pub anywhere in Britain, up to and including warm beer.  I learned this tale from Kersey, my driver the other day, when we passed by a cross surrounded by a pile of empty Budweiser cans along the side of the road.

Kyle was a popular 24-year-old man known to all the residents of the island (the population is only around 3500).  He was a farmer but also a good sailor too.  There was some kind of mishap out on the water so Kyle and his cousin went out to try and help.  The engine of their little boat got tangled in some kelp and as they tried to free it the wind came up, the boat flipped, and Kyle drowned. The islanders were devastated because things like that don’t often happen in such a small community and he was, as I said, a well-liked guy.  A cross was placed at the side of the road very close to the bay where he was lost.  The islanders wanted to pay some kind of tribute to him and they talked about what to do.  One of the farmers said that the thing Kyle would like best was if they all drank a Bud in his honor.  So his friends gathered around the white cross, all drank a can of Budweiser, and then piled the empty cans around the cross in memory of him.  Now as we tourists from far away places come to visit the bogs and penguins, if we happen to notice the cross and beer cans along the way, we can learn of Kyle’s sad passing and the joyful tribute his fellow islanders paid him. Isn’t it ironic that they did it with beer from the colonies and not some good British ale?

Now that’s a little bit of life in the Falklands that most of us will never hear.  Listening to Kersey tell me about it I found it very touching that she and the other farmers who lead what I think of as a pretty hard life would gather in a desolate place to drink a beer to toast their friend.