After cruising the foggy Penola Strait and Lemaire Channel overnight, we awoke to find ourselves at Petermann Island, the most southerly position of our trip. Gone was the drama of yesterday – the ocean swells and the snow, the blizzards and the whiteout. The sea was calmer and the snowman’s days were numbered as it was forecast to be a little warmer today, up to 34 degrees Fahrenheit or 1 degree centigrade. That’s without the windchill of course. Juan the expedition leader informed us that the landings were a Go. And omnipresent of course were the penguins.
Over the past few days, we’d witnessed plenty of penguin monkey business going on. We’d watched waddles turn into full on sprints in order to outdo the competition and secure a mate. We’d seen stone envy shenanigans as each penguin sought to build the best rock nest – not easy in these snowdrifts. We’d looked on or averted our eyes deferentially while they progressed to third base and beyond. And we were starting to see the fruits of their labors.
Whilst some penguins were still very much in the early flirtatious stages of their courtship, others remained stationary, upright and proud. I swear you could see it on their faces. For they were perched on a nest of stones, and nestled securely under them were their two eggs. At this point they have one – and only one – job. And that’s to protect their eggs. You may have a hunch where this is going.
Lurking all around are predators. Not leopard seals and killer whales, they’re only a danger to the penguins once they get into the water. On land it’s the giant petrels and skuas you’ve got to watch. Or more importantly – they, the penguins have to watch.
Inevitably, it only takes a moment’s lapse in concentration to reveal an egg to the onlookers. And the opportunistic birds wasted no time in swooping in to swiftly scoop up an egg in their beaks. The poor penguins barely knew what hit them.
I know it’s just the circle of life playing out. But it’s impossible not to side with Steve and his dedicated hard-won partner against those demonic evil birds of prey. As they realized the futility of their early parenting efforts, the confused, forlorn looks on those penguins’ faces will stay with me for a long time.
And without further ado, here’s the rest of the pics from Petermann Island.
Back onboard, we relaxed over a leisurely lunch. As our zodiac ride was a little later in the afternoon, we had plenty of time to curl up with a good book and enjoy a steaming mug of earl grey tea and cookies in the Seabourn Square cafe. Not all penguins and icebergs you know.
Our call to arms – or to the zodiac, did come. We dutifully togged up and like orange penguins, waddled down to the mud room and lined up to join the boats. And what a treat was in store – for we were cruising around Iceberg Alley. Wedged between Pleneau Island to the south and Booth Island to the north, this section of water is where all the cool kid icebergs come to hang out.
The intensity of iceberg blue was enough to rival the piercing eyes of the Game of Thrones Night King. The icebergs themselves were surely the work of art of some master sculptor. We cruised around and amongst the greatness set against a backdrop of bright white snowfields illuminated in the occasional patch of sun, while moody skies looked on.
Our eagle eyed skipper spotted a whale blow o’er yonder worth checking out. Sure enough, a mother and calf humpback whale were in the ‘hood, eager to join our iceberg party. They gatecrashed in style, determined to make an entrance by surfacing right by our zodiac. We felt a blast of fishy salty whale breath wash over us. And then just as quickly, with a flash of their tails as if to wave goodbye, they moved on.
So yes, just another day on the Antarctic Peninsula.