Paulet Island, Antarctica
Today was the day of Adelie penguins. These, the prototypical Antarctic penguins, bear the name of Adelie, the wife of the French explorer Jules Sebastien César Dumont d’Urville. But, no, he did not name the portly penguin after his wife. D’Urville sighted the coast of Antarctica on January 19, 1840, and named it Adelie Land after his wife, waiting none-too-patiently at home in Paris. The penguin was subsequently named for Adelie Land. At least, that’s the way he told it to her.
This morning we both sighted and set foot on the Antarctic Continent at Brown Bluff, at the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula. This is the site of a large colony of Adelies and smaller numbers of gentoo penguins, with their distinctive white caps and red-orange bills. Of the Antarctic penguins the Adelies are the most dependent on krill, and their nesting areas are easily identified by the orange stain (and odoriferous essence) of spilled krill and krill-fueled guano. For some reason the Adelies at Brown Bluff do not enter the water to commence their feeding excursions directly below the nesting sites, but engage in a promenade of penguins along the beach until they gather in masses, each seemingly reluctant to be the first to try the water and, perhaps, encounter a lurking leopard seal. Then, with much vocalizing, they engage in a synchronous mad rush into the water. By entering the water in numbers, each penguin is less likely to become a leopard seal meal.
Our afternoon excursion was at Paulet Island, a volcanic island that is home to 100,000 or so pairs of Adelies (the exact number awaiting the tally of Megan, our Oceanites penguin-counter). The penguin young were gathered in large crèches, a behavior that allows both adults to be away on feeding excursions, for it takes the full attention of both members of the penguin pair to raise the chicks to fledging in the short Antarctic summer. But many adult penguins, perhaps non-breeders, perhaps failed breeders, were gathered on icebergs just offshore where, again, the mass-departure behavior was seen. The penguin seen leaving the ice in the photo above receives high marks for form and extra credit for leadership. We are happy to report that no leopard seal was lurking below … this time.
Today was the day of Adelie penguins. These, the prototypical Antarctic penguins, bear the name of Adelie, the wife of the French explorer Jules Sebastien César Dumont d’Urville. But, no, he did not name the portly penguin after his wife. D’Urville sighted the coast of Antarctica on January 19, 1840, and named it Adelie Land after his wife, waiting none-too-patiently at home in Paris. The penguin was subsequently named for Adelie Land. At least, that’s the way he told it to her.
This morning we both sighted and set foot on the Antarctic Continent at Brown Bluff, at the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula. This is the site of a large colony of Adelies and smaller numbers of gentoo penguins, with their distinctive white caps and red-orange bills. Of the Antarctic penguins the Adelies are the most dependent on krill, and their nesting areas are easily identified by the orange stain (and odoriferous essence) of spilled krill and krill-fueled guano. For some reason the Adelies at Brown Bluff do not enter the water to commence their feeding excursions directly below the nesting sites, but engage in a promenade of penguins along the beach until they gather in masses, each seemingly reluctant to be the first to try the water and, perhaps, encounter a lurking leopard seal. Then, with much vocalizing, they engage in a synchronous mad rush into the water. By entering the water in numbers, each penguin is less likely to become a leopard seal meal.
Our afternoon excursion was at Paulet Island, a volcanic island that is home to 100,000 or so pairs of Adelies (the exact number awaiting the tally of Megan, our Oceanites penguin-counter). The penguin young were gathered in large crèches, a behavior that allows both adults to be away on feeding excursions, for it takes the full attention of both members of the penguin pair to raise the chicks to fledging in the short Antarctic summer. But many adult penguins, perhaps non-breeders, perhaps failed breeders, were gathered on icebergs just offshore where, again, the mass-departure behavior was seen. The penguin seen leaving the ice in the photo above receives high marks for form and extra credit for leadership. We are happy to report that no leopard seal was lurking below … this time.
