Barren Island, Falkland Islands Group
Latitude: 52º 21.9’ South Longitude: 59º 41.5’ West
Another beautiful, sunny day in the Falklands! Not even the wind could blow our good weather luck away, although it reached forty knots trying. Our first choice for a landing, at Sea Lion Island, had to be scrubbed due to unfavorable landing conditions so we made our way to Barren Island as an alternate. There a protected bay provided us with the lee we needed to put ashore safely. The place certainly seemed well named. Topography, not a strong point in this sector of the Falklands, allowed an unimpeded view of, well, not much at first glance. But here we were and no sense standing about gawking, lets get walking! The howling wind and narrow shoreline conspired to direct us towards the head of the cove and as we walked, the true nature of Barren Island revealed itself to us bit by bit: First there were intricately tiled layers of sand and mud stone protruding from an eroded bank. Then the first of what proved to be hundreds of downy gray northern giant petrel chicks sitting about like sleepy guards. Then the ocean side beach at the head of the bay where steamer ducks, oystercatchers and other shorebirds cavorted on a sugar-sand beach beneath spindrift waves. Beyond that the most adventurous hikers discovered Magellanic penguins, southern sea lions, and elephant seals.
Amidst all the unfolding scenery and wildlife vignettes a most curious event happened right before our eyes. A small colony of gentoo penguins, situated on a low hill a few hundred yards from the bay, appeared to be sending a welcoming committee our way. Initially only a handful of adult birds began trundling down the slope but, by the time they were close enough to stop and look us over, twenty or so more penguins were on their way. We perceived that what they actually desired was access to the water and so we stood to the side and waited patiently. These northern penguins seemed to be acting strangely for the shallow bay-shore was hardly the best route to fishing grounds and many of the birds were in heavy molt besides. Far be it from us to second-guess the locals. They marched right past us into the water, all of three inches deep, and proceeded to chill their feet and take long cool drinks of seawater. Then they all marched back to their home on the hill. The tracks in the mud beneath the crystal clear water were photographed before the drinking party described above, indicating that perhaps the activity happens regularly on sunny days. Days when a northern penguin’s main concern might be keeping cool rather than staying warm.
