Bird Island in literature

I have been reading a lot about Bird Island under the pretence of it somehow preparing me for being there. I think the fact that I am excited about living there and want to hoard as many facts and stories about the place as I can to help me put together an image of life there. When I first got the job, I read every blog that I could find from people who have lived there since the days of internet. These included:

http://alastairwilsonphotos.blogspot.co.uk/ - A blog run by the current penguin and petrel biologist who I will be sharing the island with for the summer.
http://raisedbypuffins.blogspot.co.uk/ - run by a previous penguin biologist who is returning as the base commander this summer.
http://cianluckthesealofapproval.blogspot.co.uk/ - run by a previous seal biologist.
http://arctocephalus.blogspot.co.uk/ -  an older blog by a seal biologist who was on the island for 2.5 years instead of my 1.5. Although elements of the base have changed slightly, the work done on the island is very much the same.

BAS also update their official bird island blog almost monthly (https://www.bas.ac.uk/media/latest-blogs/) and an hourly webcam (https://www.bas.ac.uk/data/our-data/images/webcams/bird-island-webcam/).

To contrast all of this "high-tech" information gathering, I bought a book written by an American ornithologist who spent some time on Bird Island in the 70's back when the modern comforts of the base didn't exist and the science program was starting out. It's very interesting, and of course the wildlife is still the same, just with different population sizes. For anyone who may be reading this in the future about to head down to Bird Island, I would recommend finding a copy of "Bird Island in Antarctic waters" by David Parmelee.

I was also given "Empire Antarctica: Ice, Silence & Emperor Penguins" by Gavin Francis for my birthday. It is written by the doctor who spent a year at Halley, the base on the Brunt Ice Shelf. To go South, he joins the ship in the UK, but his section from the Falklands to Bird Island is the same as I will be undertaking. We will (hopefully) fly from Brize Norton to Ascension Island, re-fuel and then head down to the Falkland Islands. The flight time is approximately 23 hours. After this, there is normally a few days to explore the surrounding area and visit a few penguin colonies (some nest on minefields left over from the war, but they aren't heavy enough to set off the explosives). From here, the current ship itinerary shows an 11 day journey to Bird Island, going via Signy (further south in the South Orkneys) and then King Edward Point on mainland South Georgia. Anyway, I digress, here is an excerpt from Empire Antarctica documenting the writers first experience of Bird Island as he approached in a cargo tender.

"As we neared the island, fur seals appeared around the prow of the vessel, pirouetting through the spume. They led us on to the beaches where they breed in their thousands. The sun was rising over the cordillera of South Georgia, alpine summits sunk in an iron sea. Bird Island is a stumpy rock splintered from its western cape. A procession of stately icebergs were grounded on the shallow seabed between them, lined up like stanchions for a bridge across the strait. 

The Shackleton lay at anchor beneath the grey hulk of the island. The base itself was hidden in the fog. I jumped into the tender with a bag of medical supplies and the first mate steered us into the mist. Kelp mats threatened to tangle our propeller, and we had to reverse a few times to find a way through. We did not need to use our eyes, it was enough to follow the clamorous din of the seals on the beach. Paying attention to our ears and noses we moved between the banks of mist. Around the boat the water was a soup of kelp gulls, giant petrels and macaroni penguins. It was like crossing the Styx; the corpse of something dead floated past, a giant petrel's head buried deep in its flank. Its bat-like wings were stained with blood, flailing for balance as it tore into the carcass. An isolated landing stage appeared - I couldn't see the base at the other end of it. The smells were of matted fur, fetid breath, rotting meat, faeces, urine, blood. There was a ceaseless yelping and barking, a low pitiful moaning. We tied up at the pier and I began to make out individual seals on the beach ahead. The rumbles coming from the throats of even the small females were startling. I saw that each had its pup, a mewling bundle of greasy fur with wide, obsidian eyes. 

We were met on the pier by two biologists who handed us each a long pole. At the beach they led us in a walk up the riverbed - it was the least claimed part of the shoreline - but even there we quickly found a use for the poles. 'Aim for the noses,' we were told, 'they're most sensitive there.' The ground was littered with bones and fallen canines sharp as meathooks. Fur-seal saliva contains special enzymes to prevent wounds from healing. Wielding my stick I was reminded that Homo sapiens can be prey species too." 

Bearing in mind that the writer is a doctor and not someone used to having large animals running around, or their associated smell, I'm very much looking forward to such a situation! Tomorrow I start work in the office in Cambridge, learning a lot more about my role and what daily life will be like for the next 18 months.