Though we’ve been on board for nearly a week and sailed more than 1000 miles, our trip actually began today. Of the 30,000 people who visit Antarctica each year fewer than 7000 come to South Georgia Island. Their loss. And to think, we nearly chose the 10-day trip to the Antarctic Peninsula without S. Georgia.
The Salisbury Plain, our first “wet” Zodiac landing, is home to 50,000 nesting pairs of King Penguins plus their fuzzy brown chicks. The Zodiacs, those inflatable boats made famous by Jacques Cousteau, were covered with snow when we scrambled aboard at 5:30 AM and it was still snowing heavily as we splashed ashore ten minutes later. The crew had already used paddles to clear a path among the aggressive fur seals on the beach to the muddy plain but other seals lurked behind every tuft of grass. Stepping on one would be bad, very bad.
Nothing can prepare one for the sight of thousands upon thousands of large, colorful king penguins stretching as far as the eye can see. One minute we had never seen a king penguin; the next minute we had seen thousands upon thousands. They covered the plain and up onto the hillsides, interspersed with mobs of fat brown chicks. The falling snow made the scene even more surreal, if that’s possible, and the noise and smell added to the other-worldliness of the experience.
We followed Jacques as he threaded his way among the birds, seals and tussock grass, moving deeper into the colony. We splashed through mud and climbed slippery hills, always giving the right-of-way to the animals. Collectively our group took about 500,000 photos, pretty amazing when you consider that all adult king penguins are identical and only a mother could tell one fat chick from another. But the snow, the changing light and the shear uniqueness of the experience made it impossible to reign in our enthusiasm.
Some penguin humor: A king penguin says to his mate, “A blind date? I don’t know, dude. What does she look like?” Ba-doom!
We were back aboard the Vavilov by 9:00, hungry, cold, wet and totally awed.
The afternoon excursion to Fortuna Bay was as different from Salisbury Plain as could be. The sun was shining, the beach was dry and snow-capped peaks poked into the blue sky. Reindeer, introduced by the Norwegian whalers, grazed on the green grass. Enormous bull elephant seals lounged on the beach, one eye checking us out and the other focused on their harems. King penguins sauntered around, fur seals threatened, albatrosses rested and skuas patrolled the sky looking for anything edible. The kayakers disappeared to who-knows-where and the rest of us wandered where we would, bright red specks among the animals.
What's she looking at?
Back on board we were treated to a barbeque on the rear deck. The food was wonderful and the beer and wine were free but it was so cold that everyone ate quickly and bolted for the lounge.
