Happy World Penguin Day!

 

Because walking penguins make me happy

"With singular unanimity, explorers have likened the Adélie penguin to a smart and fussy little man in evening clothes, with the tail of the black coat dragging on the ground, and who walks with the roll and swagger of an old salt, just ashore from a long voyage"

Robert Murphy

10 Things About Emperor Penguins

Because lists are a thing right now.

1. At nearly 4 ft tall, they are the largest living penguin

2. The March of the Penguins was about them

3. They start breeding in the middle of the Antarctic winter when it's dark and really, really cold (-60 degrees C)

4. They incubate one egg on top of their feet and it eventually hatches out into one of the cutest things on the planet

5. Curious Adélies will sometimes harass the big fluffy chicks

6. Despite the fact that they often walk many miles over ice to get to their breeding colony, they walk really, really slowly

7. Like polar bears, they need sea ice to survive

8. There are no polar bears in Antarctica

9. The book "The Worst Journey in the World" tells the story of 3 looney Brits that almost died trying to collect the first ever Emperor eggs. From this very colony (remember its -60C when they are incubating)!

10. A trumpeting adult is one of the coolest things I have ever heard

Curious and curiouser

Adélie penguins do not mate for life. Their pair bonds last only as long and the pair remains synchronous. The males typically arrive first, find their territory, and start building a nest. But if the female returns before the male, she will quickly find another mate. The breeding season at 77 degrees South is too short for waiting. By the time we arrived, the pairs had formed, eggs had been laid, and incubation, for some, was nearly complete. The incubating penguins eyed us warily if we got too close, sometimes rolling their eyes to show off their intimidating whites, even growling. But they stuck tight to their precious eggs. The young non-breeders on the other hand, were often curious and wandered up to us to get a good look. Occasionally nibbling on our clothing or fingers, the question clearly in their eyes, "What are you?" Usually after a few moments, they lost interest and wandered off.

Curious

and Curiouser

A male advertising for a mate

Undisturbed by a dusting of snow

 When a mate returns from sea, a raucous greeting takes place complete with eye rolling, and coordinated, sinuous neck movements. The vocalizations are an important part of mate recognition and will be extremely important later when the chick and parent need to find each other.

Coming up, I realize a lifelong dream and visit an Emperor penguin colony. It was better than I imagined.

Emperor colony seen from Cape Crozier

To the Cape!

It's hard to describe that first helo trip to Crozier. I was so excited that the memories are a little blurry. I sat in the front of the helo, my head on a swivel, trying to see everything at once, my camera following. I do remember the slightly disconcerting, unsteady feeling of lifting off for the first time in a helicopter. 

Lift off!

Back seat crew: Megan, Amélie, Ben

Pretty soon, we were surrounded by white, but it was far from uniform. The mostly flat sea ice ran up to the crackled, cravassed slopes of Mt. Erebus, where deep blue cracks looked deceptively shallow.

The slopes of Mt. Erebus

After a short 30 minutes, we arrived at out tiny hut at Cape Crozier. And it is tiny. If you didn't know where to look, it would be surprisingly easy to miss our little sanctuary in the vastness of the landscape.

The hut from the helo landing pad

Since it was the start of the field season, we had quite a bit of gear to bring out with us so we had to have a second helo follow us out with most of our gear. Although we could hear it coming, it was still hard to find the tiny speck in the sky slinging all our precious food and sleep kits

The speck

Shortly after lugging all our gear from the helo pad to the hut, the wind picked up and we were treated to a small taste of the legendary Crozier weather. We sheltered in the hut, with gear, as the wind gusted and snow swirled.

I think it's night in this photo. Or is it day? I can't tell.

Inside. Critical components: heater on the right, wine on the shelf.

We did manage to set up three tents in a lull, and Amélie and I tried to sleep in them that night. After a few hours, the wind picked up again and we gave up and moved inside. Welcome to Crozier! Next day it stormed all day until early evening when the wind finally died. By this time we were all dying to get to the colony so we geared up and headed down the hill.

And then there were penguins. Everywhere. The colony stretched out before us, thousands and thousands of patiently incubating penguins. I was immediately struck by the noise. Or rather the lack of it. I've spent a lot of time on seabird colonies in the last 10 years and there are generally two things they have in common: guano and noise. Mates greeting each other, birds fighting, general audio chaos. But for a colony with 500,000+ penguins, there was remarkably little sound. It turns out that most birds at the colony when we arrived were already incubating. The raucous mate choosing had passed, eggs were laid, and females went out at sea. With no mates around, the incubating birds have no one to talk to and spend most of their time sleeping, with only rare shouts at an encroaching neighbor or wandering birds. Apparent peace reigned.

First looks at the immense Crozier colony (this is only a very small part)

A pair at an empty nest surrounded by incubating birds

Penguin!

Long shadows