This was one walk where I couldn’t whinge! Originally yomped in the Falklands war of 1982 by 45 Commando on their way from Port San Carlos towards the Two Sisters, they covered 56 miles in 3 days of walking, carrying 36 kilo plus loads. After a week of reconnaissance, they fought a major battle on 11/12th June. We decided to follow in their hallowed footsteps.

“Can we arrange a transfer please from Stanley to Port San Carlos?”

“Yes, of course. We have 36 Argentinians going out on a Darwin/San Carlos tour so we could put you on that.”

The idea of departing to do a very famous British yomp from the Falklands War of 1982 with a bunch of the one-time enemy appealed to my sense of humour – maybe we could sing Rule Britannia en route!

However, I thought I had better check:

“That’s Port San Carlos, not San Carlos?” I quantified.

“What’s the difference?” she asked.

This woman lives on the Falklands and organises tours!

“About 22 miles.” I replied.

Of course, it turned out they weren’t going to Port San Carlos at all so we had to organise a private transfer which cost £200 – the local Facebook page had annoyingly failed to turn up any locals willing to give us a lift.

A Little History

After the Argentinian invasion of the Falklands on 2nd April 1982, a task force was dispatched from Britain. In due course, it became apparent that boots on the ground would be needed.

Unfortunately the Atlantic Conveyor was sunk on 25th May, 1982, going down with nearly all of the Chinook helicopters which had been intended for troop movements.

The only option was by foot and 45 Commando Royal Marines and 3rd Battalion The Parachute Regiment set off towards Stanley, tabbing (Paras) or yomping (Marines) all the way.

To add to the ordeal, it was in the depths of winter with rain, sleet and snow ever present. The men spent days cold and wet living in miserable shelters on the mountains; trench foot once again became an issue. It says a lot for the training and morale of the men that they endured and won.

After 56 miles on 4th June, 45 Commando converged at Mount Kent, near the Two Sisters. On the 11/12th June they were to engage with and defeat the Argentinians stationed on the heights of the Two Sisters in a night-time battle that cost 4 British and 20 Argentinian lives.

HMS Glamorgan, who had been helping with artillery support, was then hit by an Exocet missile which killed 13 people. It had been fired from land near where her memorial is today (en route to Cape Pembroke).

Two days later the Argentinians surrendered and the war was over.

And now us!

The Paras managed to cut off a corner but we were to be fairly faithfully following in 45 Commando’s footsteps – albeit now there is a good gravel road, whereas in their day it was a hellish walk over the natural Falklands terrain, full of ankle twisting bog and tussocky grass as well as unique stone runs: great rivers of large, jagged, tumbled rocks which are still an energy sapping challenge to negotiate today.

The tourist board knew nothing of the walk:

“We don’t do the war!” One woman exclaimed as they busied themselves with selling woolly jumpers and penguin tours.

However, they did send us to the Maritime Authority who had a complete list with contact details of every farm in the islands – a unique aspect of the Falklands is that all land outside Stanley is privately owned so if one wants to go anywhere near it, one has to seek the owner’s permission. Luckily, the mountains that were involved in the major battles are on public land so one can wander at will.

It is a complete faff but we still didn’t know the farms en route, so we finally visited the Falkland Islands Defence Force (FIDF) group who were able to give us a rough idea of which farms we would be going through and in what order. Finally we were able to ring or email them with a plan and happily all were quite accommodating.

For once I didn’t have to feel guilty that Simon was carrying the greater load as he was in full Commando mode. We stocked up on high energy snacks, pasta and pot noodles, sent the local police a plan in case we disappeared en route (we’d visited them too on our search for information!) and set off.

Day 1 – 14 km
Racepoint Farm to creek 330 m before junction with main road.

Our 4WD taxi picked us up in Stanley and drove us 107 km to Port San Carlos, basically from one side of the island to the other. We had a taster of the delights to come on the yomp, an endless series of undulating plains and hills, the isolated farms seemingly miles apart.

Eventually we turned off the main road to drop down to Port San Carlos, where Racepoint Farm sat above the well sheltered 1982 landing beaches on an inlet off Falkland Sound. Just around the corner was San Carlos where the initial landings occured – the area came to be known as Bomb Alley due to the lethal activities of the Argentinian air force.

45 Commando initially disembarked on Red Beach at Ajax Bay on 21st May but were moved to Port San Carlos on 27th May on landing craft. I’m not sure on which beach they disembarked but we figured we were close enough. We said hello and goodbye to the friendly owner and headed out.

45 Commando also moved out pretty promptly at 1300 Zulu Time and marched 22 km to west of New House, sustaining 15 knee and ankle casualties en route.

We had cheated somewhat for this first leg, having dropped our backpacks off 12 km before the farm, so we were able to do those first few hilly miles unencumbered with luggage. It was a sunny day and a stiff tailwind helped blow us up the hills. The first section is actually the hilliest, although even then we didn’t get higher than 170 m.

The route led steeply uphill out of the settlement and then levelled off, giving us views of rolling hills in dull green camouflage colours and the serpentine waters of the wide San Carlos river below. Cerro Montevideo loomed ahead at 286 m.

We climbed again, skirting around its foothills, and came to a junction for Moss Side Farm where we bore right to continue towards the main road. With stops for lunch and snacks we didn’t get back to our packs until 4 pm, then decided we needed a more sheltered position so walked on another 2 km to camp near a small creek running towards the river.

I had a feeling that we might have left Racepoint Farm for another property but I had inadvertently left the maps and numbers behind so we crossed our fingers and hoped that we wouldn’t be disturbed. We enjoyed the last of the sun, had dinner and headed off to bed under the hill, hoping it might provide some wind protection.

Day 2 – 12 km
Creek 330 m before Junction with Main Road to Creek Campsite 3.7 km SE of New House

Thunder and lightning flashed in the night: Simon remarked that we had survived the artillery as we got up on what looked like a surprisingly good day.

The San Carlos river wove through the indented hills but as we ascended to the plain we were hit by the wind, sending us staggering drunkenly across the road. Rapid rain showers went through and like a soldier diving for cover, when a rest stop came we looked for shelter from the wind, usually where the road dipped at a creek.

It was a rolling featureless landscape apart from small scattered lakes and streams and a day to put one’s head down and just trudge – which is maybe what the soldiers did although I expect they had to keep somewhat more alert. I used Simon as an inadequate windbreak and we counted our progress by cattle grids.

New House came after ten windswept kilometres, a small homestead with a lot of poly tunnels. A shed at the gate had fresh vegetables for sale and salted caramel fudge. This had been the first stop on 45 Commando’s yomp where they overnighted on 27th May before leaving at first light on 28th May. We said hello to more friendly owners and decided to carry on.

However, three kilometres later we gave in, finally fed up with the incessant wind, cold, and heavy showers. A grassy creekside spot looked both comfortable and relatively sheltered – we put the tent up and were in bed by 2.30 pm!

At 9 pm someone stopped to check us out – apparently we were camped on Lorenzo Farm land, which of course wasn’t one of the ones we had been in touch with! However they were friendly enough and agreed that we had probably found the last good campsite for a while! With the tent rattling in the wind gusts, we retired hoping for better things the next day.

Day 3 – 18 km
Creek 3.7 km SE of New House – Inlet 8.6 km SE of Hope Cottage Farm entrance

Within half a kilometre of leaving camp we entered Home Farm territory. We carried on along the plain where only little things broke the monotony: a distant sheep shed, a rusty abandoned truck, small creeks in dips which offered shelter.

After 9.5 km we reached the entrance to Hope Cottage Farm with Douglas Station behind. We had spoken to Hope but they are 800 m off the road and we didn’t stop. Skulls and an old plough decorated their gateway.

45 Commando reached Douglas Station on 28th May at 17.30 Zulu Time. The civilian population had been locked up in the school for a 4 day period and the buildings were looted – not surprisingly, the report states that “Douglas civ population very helpful“. The soldiers used their buildings to dry out whilst various patrols were mounted. They were to have a day off here, leaving on 30th May at first light.

The wind was not quite as fierce as the previous day but strong enough to blow rain and sunshine through in quick succession. It was cold enough to have all our waterproofs and gloves on.

Isolated rocks appeared, a forerunner of things to come. We stopped for a break and then lunch before finally calling it a day at one of the many inlets of the bay, about 7 km before Teal Inlet Farm.

It was an attractive spot with a view out into the bay and Scottish-like mountains in the distance. Sadly it was so cold and wet that we spent most of the afternoon in the tent!

Day 4 – 16 km
Inlet 8.6 km SE of Hope Cottage Farm entrance – Creek 7.1 km SE of Teal Inlet Farm

The wind had died down somewhat which only seemed to have the effect of causing the rain to linger and the day turned out to be both cold and wet. The gravel road became muddy under foot and the occasional car was a splash hazard.

I put my head down and plodded on; our feet left distinct prints in the surface of the road. There were more mountains appearing ahead but they were largely wreathed in mist and rain – what did those soldiers think of as they yomped across the rough, sodden ground?

Powerful men let slip the dogs of war and it is the ordinary person who suffers. The soldiers at least had signed up for it and some seemed to genuinely relish the fight and can look back with pride but what was our war to the Chinese cook or laundry man who died when merchant shipping was sunk?

We came to Teal Inlet where 45 Commando arrived at 00.30 Zulu Time on 31st May. It was described as a “hard, long march” with 7 casualties from the difficult terrain. The soldiers were to have 3 days rest at Teal before moving on on 3rd June.

“T.I” is an old station with the usual railroad jetty/shearing shed combination on the inlet. The house is nearer the road and an attractive green roofed three story building from 1912 with big windows and two chimneys. There was a certain pleasing symmetry about it, it would make a great boutique hotel!

On the other side of the road was Evelyn Station which must have surely once been part of it, with scattered, old corrugated iron buildings and distressed paintwork. We knocked on a door and spoke to a woman about camping further on which she was happy about. I admired her duck collection whose young are apparently frequently taken by Johnny Rook birds or feral cats.

I glimpsed the white radar orb shining on the top of Mount Kent as we climbed up from Teal Inlet – the soldiers gathered on its western side before battle. The Two Sisters were just starting to show their heads behind it: 4 soldiers in 45 Commando were getting their first glimpse of the place they were to die.

Mount Malo loomed ahead of us at 201 m, with the first one of the many stone runs we were to see blazing down its side. We stopped at a rather poor creek just before its ascent and had trouble finding a flat spot for the tent, eventually settling for the springy vegetation along the fence line.

A car stopped and it turned out to be Ailsa, our following night’s hostess from Estancia. She offered to take us back to a bed and return us the next morning but we refused.

“That would be cheating, wouldn’t it?” Simon laughed – at least it gave us something to look forward to on the morrow which looked additionally hopeful as she asked me what dietary requirements we had!

We retreated to our warm cosy tent as the elements played their crazy tag game over our heads: sun, wind, rain…

Day 5 – 18 km
Creek 7.1 km SE of Teal Inlet Farm – Estancia Farm

It was sunny for the first half hour as we started with a steady 170 m climb around the shoulder of Mount Malo (201 m). It suddenly became quite scenic too: looking back over Teal Inlet and ahead to more and higher mountains with the Malo River winding prettily through below. It was getting rockier too with stone runs, jagged ridges and stone strewn slopes.

We stopped on the banks of the river, where a shiny bridge spans it – it would be a top camp spot. After 3 days of rest at “T.I.” the troops moved on on 3rd June, leaving at 12.30 Zulu Time; they were to spend the night of 3/4 June at nearby Lower Malo House. They left there at 08.30 Zulu Time on the 4th June to arrive at a patrol base west of Mount Kent at 16.00. For the following week, there would be various patrols and skirmishes with the enemy as they tested the positions around the Two Sisters.

Apparently in those days there was another bridge to the east that was used. Today, a plaque on the modern bridge remembers a Royal Marine, Michael Nowak, who died on the 12th June 1982 on the Two Sisters.

Continuing on, we passed Riverview Farm (originally Lower Malo House) and rose up on the valley floor again, undulating across its expanse. Eventually we descended into the many inlets of Salvador Bay again, stopping for lunch on a pretty expanse of water backed by stony mountains.

Rain had set in again as we turned into Estancia Farm, the last farm on our yomp. We had a warm welcome from Tony and Ailsa who bought the farm in 1980 and were thus present throughout the occupation.

After tea and yummy biscuits, Ailsa showed us to a room in the house and we were able to have a hot shower – I felt almost human again! As we had been expecting a sheep shed or such, it was all a delightful surprise!

After supper, Tony gave us a tour of his fascinating Falklands War collection. As well as books, cuttings and badges, he had various bombs and mortars to show us, sighting scopes and even SAS port!

The house had become a base before the attacks on the mountains west of Stanley. 3 Para did actually stay around Estancia, digging in on the hills around the property. A “blue on blue” friendly fire incident on 10th June even resulted in the 4 casualties being buried in one of their paddocks for a while.

As a consequence today it is a popular point of call for any military visitors to the islands – Simon and I felt a bit under qualified on that front!

As the rain and wind swirled against the windows, for once we were able to go to bed snug and warm indoors.

Day 6 – 15 km
Estancia – Two Sisters

Crazy weather see-sawing between cold, biting rain and sunshine, all with a strong wind.

We said goodbye to our wonderful hosts after a blissful night’s sleep in a bed and headed out, starting with a steady climb around the shoulder of Mount Kent.

This area has some spectacular stone runs with huge unevenly shaped boulders that are not stable even now.

We stopped to check out two helicopter wreck sites, a Chinook CH-47 which is quite close to the road and a Puma on the fence line behind it. Both are just pieces of mangled metal – they were destroyed on the ground by Harriers on 21st May 1982. The Argentinians had mistakenly thought that they were safer inland than at the airport but they had been spotted by an SAS patrol. Nearby on the other side of the road are a couple of anti aircraft positions hidden amidst the rocks.

The road continued up and over until we reached a turnoff for a pumping station on the Murrell River where we made use of the buildings to have a somewhat sheltered lunch. Vicious squalls shot overhead at regular intervals and blurred the Two Sisters above us.

After a week of rain, the river was swollen and for one horrid moment we thought we were going to have to wade across. Thankfully however, we found a narrower spot downstream and were able to step across using tussocks and boulders.

We were roughly following in the footsteps of X Company who had reached that point by coming around to the south of Mount Harriet (Y and Z having gone on the northern side) – they were so heavily weighted down that they were actually 2 hours late.

The Battle for the Two Sisters

The battle started at 11 pm on the 11th June 1982, when X Company left the stream to the east of Mount Kent and attacked the 1,070 ft western end of the Two Sisters.

Y and Z silently approached from Murrell Bridge on the north eastern side and joined the fight at midnight. The resulting enemy artillery response killed three commandos and a sapper of the Royal Engineers.

A fierce firefight ensued as the Commandos rushed up the hillside, clearing the western side and then the eastern part of the north east summit. By dawn they were in complete possession of the mountain.

That same evening, there was also a battle for Mount Harriet with 42 Commando attacking from the south eastern side after a massive bombardment of the position. They prevailed with the loss of two men.

Mount Longdon was also taken by 3 Para after a bloody fight in which they lost 23 men, some to artillery fire after the battle was actually over.

As Colonel Andrew Whitehead explored the Argentine positions on the Two Sisters the next morning, he is said to have remarked in amazement:

“With fifty Royals, I could have died of old age holding this place.”

Ascending the Two Sisters

Now we were going to explore the ground for ourselves.

Having crossed the stream, we followed a jeep track which led to the western base of Long Toenail (what an awful name!) and then ascended as X Company once did.

It was another fiercely jagged landscape. We wound our way up to just under the summit which was sheer sided and inaccessible, causing us to have to backtrack a little and come back up to the saddle where the memorial stands to the four men who died on the mountain.

There is apparently another memorial on the southern peak but given the weather and the ferocious wind, we didn’t feel up to tackling what looked like a rather precarious climb.

The more accessible version is a solid brick plinth on a grassy expanse still heavily pitted with mortar and artillery craters. We were far removed from the events of that night and our little yomp was only a very minor homage to those men but one was filled with respect at what they had achieved, and sorrow too at what was lost, at unlived lives and grieving families. It was fitting that our walk should culminate on their battlefield.

The wind and rain were by now starting to annoy us so we walked up the eastern peak and found a sheltered area on the other side to put up the tent.

Broken walls and tattered blankets spoke of Argentine strong points and as Simon made dinner that night beside one, I thought that he probably didn’t look that different from those soldiers of yesteryear.

We had taken a couple of British Army ration packs from Estancia House and now had them for dinner. We tried two different curries and ended up giving each 10/10 – both were a mixture of beans or chickpeas with onions, tomato paste and various spices. Packed in India and boil in the bag, they were surprisingly tasty and even better surprisingly healthy – there were no E numbers or additives at all.

Day 7 – 11 km
Two Sisters to Moody Brook

Thankfully the wind died down a bit in the night and we both slept well. Another day of vicious squalls interspersed with sunshine.

We had a look around our area and then followed the ridge eastwards. It was a lot longer than I had realised and we ascended to a saddle and then the high point above – judging by the number of shoes scattered around, it must have been a strong point, and there were several stone embankments still visible.

We had a 360° view of all the battlefields around us, looking quite benign with distance gentling the steep slopes. So little is left other than craters and the imagination to know what the soldiers went through, even the spent bullets and shrapnel seem to be largely hoovered up.

Finally, in a gusty wind that caused us to link arms to ease our progress down the mountain, we headed down to the muddy junction which sits in a hollow between the mountains. Rolled up barbed wire hinted at a old minefield.

At the gate there was a large hole where it looked as if all the rubbish from the foxholes on the mountains had been dumped: the resilient plimsoll soles, razors, blankets and other detritus.

We picked up the rough track which led 7 km down the valley to Moody Brook. Once the main road into Stanley it led between indented moorlands, it’s rough cobbled surface full of potholes and water. This was where the iconic photo was taken of the soldiers yomping towards Stanley, the last man with a radio antenna with a Union Jack on it.

We passed a couple of underdressed, rather sour looking men going in the opposite direction.

“Argies!” Simon stated. They certainly weren’t dressed for the weather, I thought, as another hail storm passed through, stinging viciously.

“Maybe it’s like 1982,” he continued. “They mope out and run back!”

We took shelter beside an old stone crushing machine for lunch before completing the last couple of km to Moody Brook which, until the war, had actually been the main base for the Marines on the island. We’d already walked from Moody Brook into Stanley on another occasion and it was a fairly long 5 km – we called a taxi!

45 Commando, after all their efforts, were actually late to the party. After consolidating the Two Sisters, they were sent onto Sapper Hill to do the same, and didn’t actually reach Port Stanley until 16th June.

From Ajax Bay to Port Stanley, the unit had covered about 80 miles (125 km) on foot – it seems only fair that most were able to put their feet up on the Canberra as they finally headed home to a well deserved hero’s welcome in Southampton.

Every Australian knows of the infamous 60 mile (96 km) long Kokoda Trail where in 1942 Aussies fought the Japanese in the horrendous tropical rainforests of Papua New Guinea – ironically it passes through the Owen Stanley Range where the highest point of the track is 2,190 m.

Maybe the 45 Commando Yomp should strike a similar chord with the British, where the same indomitable fighting spirit prevailed through dreadful conditions and ultimately won in the end.

“Everyone a hero”

NOTES

– Zulu Time is military parlance and aligned with UK GMT. Falkland Islands time was 3-4 hours behind.

We stayed at Shortys Motel which is £95 a night for ensuite comfortable rooms with continental breakfast. This is taken in their diner which has a more extensive menu throughout the day.

Camping in Stanley may be possible if you ask Mrs Kay McCallum nicely on +500 2107. She is centrally located at 14 Drury Street and has a nice grassy garden for tents with the use of her inside loo, and shower if wanted. Camping is £5 a night for two with tent.

Ex servicemen can stay for free at Liberty Lodge in Stanley.

Taxi: +500 51001. £5 within Stanley or £10 to Moody Brook.

Transfers – Falkland Islands Tours
Ruth +500 22708. To/from airport £22. To start of walk at Port San Carlos £200.

Farm Contact details (as of December 2025) in order of walk.

Racepoint Farm. Good overview of the landing beaches and old anti-aircraft gun base.
John & Michelle Jones +500 41012 (51450/55450) jhjones@horizon.co.uk (accommodation also available)

Smileys Farm – If you want to dip your toes in Port San Carlos waters!
Cantray Ltd +500 41017 admin@byronmarine.co.fk

Lorenzo Farm
Jan Clarke +500 31111 (54980/55115) clarkey.lorenzo@horizon.co.fk

New House Farm
Jeremy and Stacey Poncet +500 51826

Home Farm
Tyrone & Sara Whitney +500 31122 (53122/51560) t-bone@horizon.co.fk

Hope Cottage & Teal Inlet
Leased by Stefan and Holly +500 31096
Owner Paul & Shula Phillips +500 22331/31105 (55572/52221) shula@horizon.co.fk

Evelyn Station – From Teal Inlet to left bank of Malo River (top camp spot) – in limbo at the moment due to death of owner: just knock on the door as you go through!

Riverview Farm – From right bank of Malo River (top camp spot) to Estancia
Darren Bagley +500 31106 (54439) rvf.bagley@horizon.co.fk

Estancia
Tony & Ailsa Heathman +500 31042 (55042/51042) diver@horizon.co.fk

Police – Contact Glynis King – casual.operator2@police.gov.fk

Try the Falkland Islands Community Board on Facebook for help, advice, etc – you may just be lucky!