It’s Island Week 4 here at GSS, which means we’ll mostly be posting about Islands. For about a week.

GSS Reader Reg Coppicus from Canada thinks Isla San Felix might be “the crappiest posting ever”. Fortunately for us, he’s talking military posting – this remote island in the South Pacific, he says, is home to:

an airstrip, some sea birds and nothing else.

Come on Reg, you’re being unfair. Look – there’s plenty to keep the chaps of the Chilean Navy occupied here at the San Felix Naval Air Station, located on one of the attractively named Islas Desventuradas (Unfortunate Islands). As well as the 2km-long runway there are quite a few buildings, some roads, and best of all a tennis court, plus what looks to be some other kind of sports field¹ just to the north. Just as well, considering these rugged islands are some 900km off the coast of Chile and otherwise totally uninhabited.

Indeed, San Felix looks like a throbbing metropolis compared with tiny Malpelo Island, which belongs to Colombia although it is actually slightly closer (360km) to the coast of Panama. Malpelo appears to support just one building² – an army outpost established in 1986. Those long evenings must just fly by.

Because of the minimal human intrusion, Malpelo is an important marine reserve – the largest no-fishing zone in the tropical eastern Pacific. In 2006 it was named as a World Heritage Site by Unesco, which calls it “a ‘reservoir’ for sharks, giant grouper and billfish“. It is a popular destination with shark divers, who apparently find the prospect of immersing themselves with “aggregations of over 200 hammerhead sharks and over 1,000 silky sharks, whale sharks and tuna” appealing…

Read more about the Islas Desventuradas and Malpelo Island at Wikipedia.

Thanks to Reg Coppicus.

This enormous hexagon, a mile and a half in diameter, looks like some kind of massive occult symbol etched in the scrub on the remote western coast of Australia, 700 miles north of Perth.

In fact, we’re looking at a communication station that transmits on the very low frequency (VLF) radio waveband to vessels of the US and Australian navies.

The facility, opened in 1967, consists of 13 guyed steel radio masts: one at the centre, and one at each corner of the inner and outer hexagons. (Street View gives a dizzying perspective from the base of one of them.) The central tower, known as Tower Zero, is 1,273 feet tall¹, meaning that for the first nine years of its life it was the tallest structure in the southern hemisphere.²

Initially, the station was operated solely by the US Navy, and the nearby town of Exmouth was built to service it and house servicemen’s families. For the first year of its operation, it was known as US Naval Communication Station North West Cape, after the promontory where it is located, but it was renamed in honour of the Australian prime minister who disappeared while swimming off a beach in Victoria³.

From 1975 the site was jointly run by the American and Australian navies, but in 1992 US personnel were withdrawn, and by 2002 the last Australian naval staff had left and operations were taken over by Boeing Australia.

Today, tourism seems to have a more important role in the life of Exmouth: visitors can tour public areas of the base, as well as exploring the gorges of the Cape Range National Park and snorkelling with manta rays and whale sharks in Ningaloo Marine Park.

The communication station still attracts controversy, however. Over the past few years, at least five aircraft have developed problems with their ADIRUs (instruments that supply the control systems with vital flight data) while in the general vicinity of the base. The most serious incident occurred last year, when more than 100 people on board Qantas flight 72 were injured when the plane went into a sharp dive.

Could the extremely powerful radio signals from the masts possibly cause interference? Some people think so, and the Australian Transport Safety Bureau has been looking into a possible link, but the official word is that transmissions from the base are “highly unlikely” to be responsible. That probably won’t keep the conspiracy theorists quiet, though…

Read more about the communications station at Wikipedia and the Shire of Exmouth site.

Namibia’s Skeleton Coast is named so for two different types of skeletons that littered the beaches: whales and ships.

Thanks to the end of mass whaling the whale bones are now all gone, but the bones of ships remain, very slowing rusting away.

For example, the Eduard Bohlen ran aground here way back in 1909.

There are purportedly thousands of ships lining this coast, thanks to the gale force winds, thick fog and ferocious surf.

The Otavi ran aground in 1945, with a load of Guano she was shipping from Mercury Islands.

Once run aground, the sailors are usually also destined to add to the coast’s name, as the previously featured Namib Desert is totally inhospitable.

Despite this, someone once thought it was a good idea to build an oil rig just inland. But just like the whales, ships, and sailors, the rig is now a rotting skeleton.

Since 1971 the Skeleton coast has been a protected National Park, and the old rig does provide good shelter for the local bird population.

The most famous of the Skeleton Coast’s wrecks was the Dunedin Star cruise liner, which sank just off the coast in 1942. The dramatic rescue attempt included the additional wrecking of a rescue boat and small plane, and the whole story is documented in John Marsh’s book Skeleton Coast.

Thanks to sasroodkapje’s fantastic visible shipwreck collection and Artificial Owl, who have ground level images of the oil rig.

The latest imagery update has now arrived on Google Maps, and with it comes this rather sad image of a beached Sperm Whale on the island of Hjelmsøya, which is off the coast of the extreme north of Norway.

According to gyrrus, who found the image of the whale:

it probably drifted onshore already dead … and was removed by the Norwegian Coast Guard a week or two after this image was taken.

This isn’t the only example of a dead whale found in Google’s imagery – all the way back in February 2006 we posted this image of a bleeding whale on a beach in South Africa.

We also previously featured a couple of pods of very-much-alive whales, as well as a roundup of some of the best fake whales across the globe.

Thanks to gyrrus.

In the past we’ve posted several people’s submissions of what they thought were whales, which might have been captured on the satellite imagery of Google Earth whilst nearing the surface of the open sea.

In most cases however, our ever-attentive readers have presented compelling evidence that these submissions couldn’t actually be whales.

So when Rick Edwards directed us just west of Cabo San Lucas, Mexico to see two separate pods of three whales, you could imagine we would be a little sceptical. However, the apparent visibility of tailfins on the larger ‘whales’ piqued our interest somewhat…

We pressed a little further, checking possible species, sizes, breeding patterns and migratory behaviour, and… well, we wouldn’t have posted it if we didn’t think there was a strong possibility this could be the only definite sighting of whales out at sea¹ on the whole of Google Earth.