The former whaling stations at Grytviken, Husvik Harbour, and Stromness Harbour on South Georgia were surveyed during two expeditions by a Norwegian party investigating industrial archaeology. This paper decribes the survey methods, which included photographic documentation, measurements, and mapping. Maps of the entire stations were made from photogrammetric and theodolite surveys. Detailed plans of the individual buildings were made, with each room being identified and measured. A detailed photographic survey was also undertaken. The paper then presents the main results of the analysis of the survey so far, and suggests some possibilities for utilizing the results in future research. It also describes an ongoing project on the construction of a CD-ROM on the history of Husvik Harbour, of which the survey data are an important part.

As we sailed south in Penola, our tiny vessel, in the British Graham Land Expedition 1934–1937, to us being young, the exploits of Scott, Amundsen, and Shackleton in the Ross Sea and at the Pole, seemed an age ago, although in reality just a little more than a score of years. And to a young man a score of years is an era. In contemplation one now realizes all of us had been born only just a little before the South Pole was reached first by Amundsen, in December 1911.

We left St Katharine's Dock in Penola on 10 September 1934. By the time of her return nearly three years later, she had covered 26,896 miles, 15,496 under sail alone, 3040 with engines, the remainder by mixture of the two.

In Penola amidships, there was a low cabin above deck occupied by the captain and his charts and instruments, and there he slept until we wintered in the south. Below deck there was a little mess room, a small cabin, the engine room, and the main hold. Aft there was a small wheel-house with closeable windows. But that small structure, I am sure wisely, we soon removed with saws to leave the wheel utterly open to the elements. There remained a head or straight drop, a tiny compartment over the stern for quiet, or not so quiet, defaecation. Urination took place on deck at any convenient spot or time, having regard to wind direction and the duties of the moment. Urine on deck was always said to be good for the planking and in some degree dissolved grease. Oddly it soon became obvious that individuals grew into a habit of urination at particular spots considered by each as especially suitable.

In our day, 60 years ago, investigations and efforts were primarily and directly observational. Poverty of space and equipment would allow no more. Terrestrial survey requires direct observation with theodolite, compass, and plane table, and the first results are converted to paper quickly. Observations for latitude and longitude are via the Sun and the stars, and a time-signal set. This latter we carried on our journeys, the definitive pips coming mainly from Buenos Aires and Washington. First-draft new maps and charts soon emerged, under Steve's skilled hands.

Around 1920 was the real turning point in the significant evolution of British polar technology and travel. Earlier British polar ventures had been primarily naval and shipborne, with over-wintering shore stations in the Ross Sea area of Antarctica.

We all (almost) kept personal diaries, for ourselves, for our families, our successors, or to quiet our own minds if troubled. Most of these diaries are now in the Scott Polar Research Institute, some with a ‘closed’ agreement to some forthcoming date. But John Rymill, our leader, did not keep a diary (so I believe), at least for many earlier months. It was long afterwards that some of us learned that he was dyslexic and averse to writing. I believe that during our first year, in the base, Brian Roberts, so meticulous and knowledgeable already in polar history, argued with John persistently on the absolute necessity for a leader to keep a diary.