Last year the local newspapers reported that a polar bear had been washed up on the north coast of Cornwall. It turned out to be a false alarm: merely the carcass of some unfortunate cow that had been lost off a cliff.
Evidence of polar bears were spotted in Falmouth recently, and that evidence has led to some confusion and debate. Were they actually polar bear tracks? Why were they spaced as they were? Why was the polar bear apparently accompanied by a small dinosaur?
Some of you will think that putting on an exhibition and laying a trail to the North and South Poles was a simple matter. Far from it. The polar bear tracks show just how complicated things can get. To make the tracks we needed to know the size of a polar bear's footprint. They are not known for their forgiving and cooperative nature. One cannot simply go up to a polar bear in Newquay and say 'Please can I measure your foot?' At least not if one wishes to live much longer.
Thankfully we have friends in high places. messages were sent to friends: to one at the Natural History Museum and to a former Director of a wildlife park and zoo. Back came advice and suggestions, including a photograph of the underside of an Emperor penguin's foot. That was a start. But how do they walk? What do the trails look like?
We recruited YouTube. Hours of diligent research found some wonderful picture of the bears running and walking. We ignored the John West Salmon advertisements which were quite clearly men dressed up as bears. Experiments were carried out around the office with Milly finally perfecting the polar bear gait, much to the amusement of her colleagues. Their 'arms' and legs have an unusual pattern of movement which seems perfectly sensible when you think of their size. Andy then created a handy measuring stick to asses the length of the stride. Things were looking up.
It took the Andy and Milly more than a day to plot the routes for the two animals, get the floors cleaned and the tracks laid down. And very wittily they have done it too. There are real stories in the tracks.
Both trails start from the centre of the Main Hall. Goodness knows what the two of them were doing there. It is better not to ask. The penguin - as a bird, a distant descendant of a dinosaur - sets off for the main stairs but gets distracted by the picture of a relation at the entrance to Base Camp. He - we think it is a he - pauses for a moment to pass the time of day and complain about the shipping that is cluttering up the ice nowadays, before heading for the stairs.
As he is unable to stride out, he jumps up each stair in turn, two footed. Interestingly, he goes up the right of the stairs, the same side as school children are encouraged to mount the stiars, holding the rail with their right hands. Sadly we have no evidence as to whether he steadied himself with his flipper. Eventually, he finds his way to the South Pole and starts reading the exhibition about some of the people who think they can plant sheds, bring ponies and dogs, go for a walk, plant flags on his nice ice and alongside his rookery. 'Yet another film crew huddled up in their brightly-coloured jackets interrupting a nice ice storm by taking pictures of us in a huddle.'
The polar bear heads off in the opposite direction which is something of a relief for the penguin since the polar bear does look a bit large and might be hungry. Having read the tourism literature, she heads for Cornwall with her unusual lolloping gait. The large paw and small paw impressions alongside each other are not actually two bears but one. The two prints are made on separate moves of the legs, front paw and back paw and just happen to be alongside each other when a bear is doing more than a simple walk. She is obviously eager to reach her destination. (Andy can explain all in great detail if you want him to and Milly will demonstrate. Perhaps we should invite them to do a turn at the Christmas party).
She makes her way up the Cornwall staircase but this is not as simple as it sounds. A polar bear is a large creature and the stairs are designed for some strange bipedal creature. At the turn of each stair, she gathers herself for an enormous bound taking in several steps at one go and landing on her two feet. Eventually, she makes her way to the relative comfort of the North Pole where she settles down to find out about those strange humans that have invaded her land, popped up through the ice, broken up floes, walked immense distances with noisy dogs and generally caused havoc in her nice quiet, seal-ridden environment.
We think that these two will be around until October when their migratory instincts will kick in and they will be on their way. We do not know where they are sleeping but the volunteer lounge is mighty close to the polar bear's final tracks. If you run into either of them do treat them like any other member of the crew. One likes fish, the other a nice chunk of seal.
On 26 April a lunch was held for five volunteers who have completed 5 years of volunteering service with the Museum.
On Wednesday 20 April we installed a new display panel in Tidal Zone about the invasive marine species we have in our waters (unwelcome emits of the sea). It certainly brightens up the cold grey wall a bit. This was a collaborative project between us and the Cornwall Wildlife Trust – entirely funded by them.
Both trails start from the centre of the Main Hall. Goodness knows what the two of them were doing there. It is better not to ask. The penguin - as a bird, a distant descendant of a dinosaur - sets off for the main stairs but gets distracted by the picture of a relation at the entrance to Base Camp. He - we think it is a he - pauses for a moment to pass the time of day and complain about the shipping that is cluttering up the ice nowadays, before heading for the stairs. 
An emotional farewell party for Graham included a Debs party game; an Angela cash box (Dutch money included); a picture, electric screwdriver and drill bits from everyone; yet another song from JG and a great speech from Graham, all in a room with a pirate theme. 
