Close Encounters of the Natural Kind: Part I

Penguins and seals and whales, oh my!!  I kept hearing rumors that it would be wildlife season down here (naturally, being summer) and boy was everyone right!  It's not as though I'm tripping over seals on a regular basis, but animals are here to be seen by those who take a few moments each day to wait and watch for them.  Palmer Station wildlife actually reminds me of Peter Pan's Neverland map (animated, of course), where each animal has their own separate area and everyone knows it as such.  The penguins lay claim to Torgerson Island, skua nests render islands completely off limits, Elephant Seal Rocks is where one can go to see young male seals trying to figure out who's who on the social ladder, and whales roam all of the waters surrounding the islands in search of elusive krill.  It's hard to believe that I have seen all of these different animals in just a week, but they're all here, just living as they would regardless of our presence.
     Los penguinos!  Let me just say that a few people close to me have a special bias toward penguins that have put them closer to my heart than any bird would normally be.  However, seeing these animals in nature is an amazing experience that has shot them toward the top of my list.  Yes, they are cute and laughably awkward on land, but fuzzy-wuzzy feelings aside, these creatures are unbelievably hydrodynamic and as graceful as dolphins in the water.  Seeing them while in the zodiaks brings a great amount of intimacy to the experience - I actually can see how incredibly fast and agile they are as they porpoise through the air nearby or dart in front of the boat.  From the height of the Gould, you can almost mistake them for a school of flying fish!  When we are idlling in calmer waters, you can hear the unexpected kerplunk of a solo penguin and by the time you look for the ripples, you can see the white of the body flashing out of sight underwater.  I would be hard-pressed to find the words to describe the beauty and grace of a swimming colony, with as many as ten alternately porpoising individuals flying by you.  In this setting, all visions of silly-footed tuxedos are instantly washed away.

      It is with many of these thoughts and impressions that I stepped onto Torgerson Island, "Torgie" for a closer look.  My first impression was simply that of awe.  I do not remember my mind processessing many thoughts besides, "wow."  I love animals and it is always terrific to be so close to them, but these creatures are both very beautiful and very odd and thus captivating.  I must have stood in front of the first colony I came across for ten minutes, just watching.  Another initial impression contrary to expectations is remembering that they are birds, which makes them LOUD.  So much cooing, bickering, and plain squaking that you adopt as background noise after the first twenty minutes.  (You can't blame them for being noisy though, what with new chicks disrupting the bliss of fidelity and hungry skuas flying overhead).
      There are three types of penguins on the Antarctic Peninsula: adelie, chinstrap, and gentoo.  The most dominant of these are the adelie that I have been describing above, but the other two species do manage to pop up between the adelie colonies as if to say, "What?  Who are you lookin' at?  I blend in just fine!"  After being to Torgie twice now, I have so many questions that I would love to ask the Birders, but their hours and long and hard, making them seem less than approachable.  But, I do know that the mom and dad take turns keeping the egg warm and even standing above the chick once it's hatched.  The individual colonies are much smaller than I expected and contain individual nest mounds made of rock shards -- ouch.
           I hesitate to anthropomorphize these birds because they are not true to stereotypes, but sometimes they do more than simply look goofy, but their actions seem silly as well.  This evening, I quietly (as quietly as humanly possible on an island covered in rocks) sat down between two colonies that were about twenty feet apart.  Just as I sat down, an individual wandering along the outskirts of one colony mound started waddling right toward me.  I thought to myself, oh please don't come check me out, that would not be good.  Sure enough, he kept on waddling until he was about four feet away, eyeing me the whole way!  Perhaps I had been in his path, but I was worried he was going to come take a peck at me!
          All the cooing and stench aside, being on their island is very peaceful and humbling.  For me, the magic of this place is in it's wildlife because it brings the place alive on a calm day -- gives it character.  On the island tonight at sunset, it absolutely felt like Never Neverland, where you're standing among the penguins and your attention is drawn across the way to the gurgling, burping, battling, oh-so-endearing elephant seals.  It is oftentimes so surreal to be surrounded by uninterrupted and unadulterated wildness in such an idyllic place.     

But watch out penguins, that ain't no illusion, that's a real leopard seal sleeping on that iceberg.  Stay tuned for Close Encounters Part II:  Seal Haven.