h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

TOWN POINT, WEST FALKLAND

Posted Jul 30, 2003

On the Island of West Falkland in the Falkland Islands; on the south shore of Christmas Harbour, which is at the east end of King George Bay, was to be found a holding paddock called Town Point. Town Point was a fenced off from the surrounding area because it was practically all sand dunes and littoral vegetation. It was used only as a holding paddock when moving sheep; and particularly hoggetts. Town Point was about four miles long by a mile wide, if my memory serves me well. The main vehicle track from Dunnose Head Settlement to the rest of the world never passed through this paddock, using instead the higher ground of the Narrows Camp, through False Narrows, and around the shoulder of Gun Hill, above Death Valley. The riding track however hung to the coast and went straight through Town Point. Halfway through the paddock was a grave, a simple mound surrounded by stones, which a slab of rock as a headstone. It was said to be the grave of a German Sea-Captain whose crew had mutinied during a difficult voyage around Cape Horn. Whether he was killed on board ship, or brought ashore first, the legend doesn't mention. It is thus with some sense of an horrific slaying, that you pass the grave, but not one you normally dwell on.
In Spring 1962, I was detailed to take the Camp Teacher (this doesn't mean he was gay, but that he taught Children in the Camp, or outside Settlements...from the Spanish word "CAMPO") from Dunnose Head to Chartres. I geared up two horses, and we left at mid-morning, it was an uneventful journey, except I remember he wouldn't talk to me after I killed five baby Upland Geese (their beaks carried a bounty of 3d). We passed through Town Point in the early afternoon; it was a beautiful day, with hardly any wind. I pointed out the grave to him, as he had not seen it before, and we rode on out of the paddock, and into Gun Hill Camp. We rode past Gun Hill Shanty, and upstream with Chartres River on our left. Arriving opposite Chartes Settlement we spent a good hour trying to attract the attention of someone from the settlement. Eventually the motor boat arrived and took teacher across.
I looked longingly at this centre of civilisation, and then remounted, towing the spare horse back to Gun Hill Shanty, where I tied up the horses, and made a cup of tea. I had a sleep for about an hour, before resuming my journey. I was by now riding the teacher's horse which had had more rest, and towing the spare to my left with the cabarista under my left leg. We went through the gate into Town Point, and I was heading into the setting sun, on what was a perfectly calm evening. I break away at this point to draw the readers attention to the length of time that the tracks made by large numbers of sheep on the move remain visible. Once the ground is marked by hundreds of small hooves, their paths can be clearly seen for years. As we approached the grave I realised I was having trouble with the horse being towed, instead of running with me, I was having to pull him; and instead of being to my right, he was behind me. I repositioned the cabarista, and pressed on. The grave now appeared eerily before me, and the low sun showed me that no sheep tracks passed anywhere near the grave, but by-passed it by about 25 yards on either side. Of his own volition, my horse decided to by-pass the grave in a similar way, and the spare was now definetly to my left, as I had again to move the cabarista. It then became apparent that no animal ever went near the grave. The towed horse was keeping me between himself and the grave, so that as the grave arrived directly to my right, he was directly to my left. It was at this point that I realised that the hair on the back of my neck was standing out. In complete silence we passed the grave, and the towed horse became the leader. After 100yards we picked up speed, and arrived home in pitch darkness at a fair lick, guided on the final mile by a light in the window at my destination, and a memory of the terrain.
I have often mused since then on the way animals behave in such circumstances, and whether this is normal. Can they sense that something evil has taken place. There was nothing physical there to frighten me, I had been there before with no effect. It must only have been the setting sun, and the animals' behaviour, and the realisation about the sheep tracks.
I didn't discuss this with anyone, I was just glad to be home. Later though I introduced the subject of the grave, in an attempt to get more information. The only story forthcoming was about a shepherd who lived a hermit like existence at Gun Hill Shanty with his dog. This man was as tough as old boots (like many Kelpers), and he couldn't swim. One dark night he swam the Chartres River, which was no mean feat, and arrived in Chartres, his beloved dog was left behind, and his hair had turned pure white. Never again would he return to Gun Hill. Several people confirmed this story, and all assumed it was connected with the Town Point Grave. Is this autosuggestion, or evidence of the supernatural. By the way I passed that way again in the company of others, and suffered no effects.

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