The red telephone box, designed by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott, is as quintessentially British as fish and chips, the Shipping Forecast, eccentric place names and – sadly – doomed pubs.  But after years of dedicated service, this icon of cities, towns and villages throughout Britain and her former colonies has largely become a thing of the past.

(Image: Garry Knight, cc-sa-3.0)

The popular red kiosk was the result of a 1924 competition initiated due to widespread dissatisfaction with the original K1 (Kiosk No. 1) design across London.  The winning design, in the classic tradition, was submitted by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott, architect of Liverpool Cathedral and Battersea Power Station.

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Scott had intended his K2 kiosk, with domed roof likely inspired by Sir John Soane’s tomb in St Pancras’ Old Churchyard, to be painted silver.  But the Post Office selected red to ensure the boxes were noticeable.  This stirred a public outcry at the time, and boxes located in areas of natural and historic beauty were painted a more subdued grey with red glazing bars.

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Ironically, it wasn’t strictly modernisation that led to the demise of the red telephone box, as the classical K2 model gave way to the definitive K6 in 1935, commemorating the silver jubilee of King George V.  The death blow was dealt by privatisation in the form of British Telecom, which, from the 1980s, installed the more utilitarian KX100 in place of thousands of traditional kiosks.

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Around 2000 red phone boxes have historical listed status, but many stand neglected, vandalised, or simply abandoned, with a lucky few re-purposed.  In an ironic twist, the public outcry that had accompanied the introduction of the red telephone box was matched by protests over its demise, as many who had originally opposed it campaigned for the preservation of their beloved kiosks.

(Image: Rick Harris, cc-sa-3.0)

Its appearance in various urban art exhibits reflects the kiosk’s cult status, while adaptive reuse and popularity with collectors underscores its enduring legacy as an eccentric symbol if Britishness.  But the all-too-common sight of decaying red phone boxes are perhaps the most poignant reminder that things have moved on, and that eras always come to an end.

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Abandoned whaling station at Grytviken (image by Hannes Grobe, Alfred Wegener Institute)

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South Georgia Island emerges from the ocean just north of Antarctica, making it one of the most isolated and inhospitable places on Earth.  With no native population whatsoever, it’s little wonder the island’s abandoned settlements and ships remain as they were when the last whalers moved out – albeit rusting and slightly mysterious versions of their former selves.

South Georgia Island (image via Google Earth)

Rusting hull of Petrel (image by 'christopher')

South Georgia is a British overseas territory.  In 1775 explorer Captain James Cook circumnavigated the island, naming it “the Isle of Georgia” in honour of King George III.  To this day, the only inhabitants are the British Government Officer, Deputy Postmaster, scientists and support staff from the British Antarctic Survey – perhaps more of a punishment than a scientific outpost…

Image via 'christopher'

Image via 'christopher'

Near to the capital, King Edward Point, is the old Norwegian whaling station at Grytviken, operated under leases granted by the British Govenor of the Falkland Islands.  Founded in 1904 and operating until 1965, the station remains essentially unchanged today, with it’s original whale oil tanks and docked fishing vessels rusting away – an eerie and enigmatic sight beneath the Antarctic sun.

Abandoned oil tanks (image by wili hybrid)

Image by Graham Racher

In April 1916, legendary explorer Ernest Shackleton‘s Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition became stranded on Elephant Island, 800 miles south west of South Georgia. Shackleton and five companions ventured out in a small boat in search of help, and on May 10, after an epic voyage, they landed at King Haakon Bay on South Georgia’s south coast.

Three remained at the coast while Shacketon and other two covered 22 miles overland to reach help at Stromness whaling station. The remaining 22 members of the expedition, who had stayed on Elephant Island, were all subsequently rescued. During a later expedition in January 1922, fate finally caught up with Shackleton who died onboard ship near South Georgia. His body was taken ashore, and his grave (below) can be found at Grytviken – a fitting end for a celebrated adventurer.

And if anyone fancies pulling on their Antarctic exploration boots, check out this opportunity to follow in the footsteps of the intrepid explorers and join the next South Georgia expedition.

Ernest Shackleton's grave (image by Lexaxis7)

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Rusting old storage tanks (image by wili hybrid)

What do you get when volcanic eruptions almost completely decimate one of the most exposed outposts on the planet? The answer can be found on Deception Island, which brings a whole new meaning to the term “winter wonderland”.

Deception Island lies amongst the South Shetland Islands off the Antarctic Peninsula. It has one of the safest harbours in Antarctica, serving as a welcome refuge from the storms and icebergs of the region since the early 19th century. Samuel Taylor Coleridge called it “the land of mist and snow” in his epic poem, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. But little did he know about the volcano that would one day destroy the British military base and Norwegian-Chilean whaling operation.

Sealers' hut from the turn of the 20th century (image by wili hybrid)

The island was originally used by sealers during the 19th century, whose dilapidated huts still cling to life there today. The Norwegian-Chilean Whaling Company began using Whalers Bay as a base for factory ships and by 1914 had 13 vessels based there. The blubber was processed on the ships, while the whale carcasses were boiled down using large iron boilers. The precious oil extracted was then stored in iron tanks.

Today these tanks and boilers (see images) can be found largely intact and almost untouched in this isolated corner of the world. Their ornate iron casting immediately dates them to a previous era, but in a strange way their seemingly out of place appearance amid this icy landscape almost make them look like the shattered remnants of a post-apocalyptic world.

The bottom fell out of the whale oil market during the Great Depression and by 1931 the site was abandoned. Advances in the technology onboard factory ships rendered shore stations surplus to requirements and the station was never reoccupied once the economy recovered.

Abandoned hangar with aircraft (image by Lyubomir Ivanov)

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Destroyed British base (image by Lyubomir Ivanov)

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An abandoned British base lies nearby on Whalers Bay and includes a derelict aircraft hangar. Until 2004, a stripped-out old aircraft (pictured) stood forlornly outside the hangar, it’s RAF roundels still visible after 40 years of dereliction. The plane, a De Havilland Canada Otter, registration VP-FAK, is now in Grimsby, UK, and will soon become the centre-piece of an exhibition celebrating the world-class scientific achievements of the British Antarctic Survey. Close by, the British scientific station building – Biscoe House (pictured) – stands silently, severely damaged by mudflows following the eruptions of 1967 and 1969, after which the site was given over to the elements one last time.

More old school storage tanks (image by Jerzy Strzelecki)

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Old pipeline looking like a scene from Star Wars (image by wili hybrid)

The violent volcanic eruption of 1969 completely demolished the Chilean stations Pedro Aguirre Cerda and Gutierrez Vargas, the former originally inaugerated in 1955. Since then, the volcano has also put pay to other attempts to maintain permanent facilities on Deception Island. As of 2000, the only two scientific stations still in use (summer only) belonged to Spain and Argentina.

Ice reflecting water (image by 23am.com)

It is as if the island is trying to warn scientists and explorers that they are not welcome here. At least two centuries after humans began coming to this remote corner of the planet, it seems Deception Island’s name has finally come of age! The only known humans still permanently located here are the 45 residents of the Norwegian-Chilean station’s cemetery, which was buried in the eruption of 1969 (pictured here before the event). Today, the only signs pointing the way to their nearby graves are the rusting tanks and boilers the survivors left behind.

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