Fortuna Bay, South Georgia Island, South Atlantic Ocean
What a fantastic scene. Gangs of king penguins greeting us as we surfed ashore in the Zodiacs. Hundreds and hundreds of fur seal pups gamboling at the water's edge, curious of the new explorers scampering ashore. Green tussock grass dotted the hills, painting a portrait of unique plant life, a phenomenon not seen in Antarctica where snow and ice dominate the scene. The orange and yellow of the king’s head pattern mixed with the red of our parkas. Eventually our rubber boots faithfully took us to the quintessence of South Georgia. We trekked across a glacial outwash plain, crossing several small streams and rivulets to reach a spectacular colony of thousands and thousands of king penguins. The weather to the right was snow and cloud and wind; to the left a blue sky above a newly blasted landscape. Penguin feathers flew like foam in the air, perhaps a hitherto unknown species of life blanketing the ground. Who could have anticipated the beauty we would behold?
Most of us stood mesmerized, stunned by the sights and sounds of the colony of trumpeting penguins, too wild to describe, too colorful to believe. We watched in awe. Tiny penguin chicks were being fed by their parents, single eggs incubated, newly formed couples courting and mating, and yet other penguins stood motionless, molting their feathers. How can all of this be happening at the same time? And yet it does. It happens all the time whether we are here to see it or not. I don’t believe it! I can’t wait to see what tomorrow holds!
What a fantastic scene. Gangs of king penguins greeting us as we surfed ashore in the Zodiacs. Hundreds and hundreds of fur seal pups gamboling at the water's edge, curious of the new explorers scampering ashore. Green tussock grass dotted the hills, painting a portrait of unique plant life, a phenomenon not seen in Antarctica where snow and ice dominate the scene. The orange and yellow of the king’s head pattern mixed with the red of our parkas. Eventually our rubber boots faithfully took us to the quintessence of South Georgia. We trekked across a glacial outwash plain, crossing several small streams and rivulets to reach a spectacular colony of thousands and thousands of king penguins. The weather to the right was snow and cloud and wind; to the left a blue sky above a newly blasted landscape. Penguin feathers flew like foam in the air, perhaps a hitherto unknown species of life blanketing the ground. Who could have anticipated the beauty we would behold?
Most of us stood mesmerized, stunned by the sights and sounds of the colony of trumpeting penguins, too wild to describe, too colorful to believe. We watched in awe. Tiny penguin chicks were being fed by their parents, single eggs incubated, newly formed couples courting and mating, and yet other penguins stood motionless, molting their feathers. How can all of this be happening at the same time? And yet it does. It happens all the time whether we are here to see it or not. I don’t believe it! I can’t wait to see what tomorrow holds!
