Salisbury Plain, South Georgia
Huge mountains line South Georgia’s shore, rank upon rank, brown, like chocolate-covered broken teeth. Through these teeth loll bifurcating hoary tongues – the Grace and Lucas Glaciers. Their withdrawal has revealed the Salisbury Plain, a grass-covered expanse of miles. The scenery of the Salisbury Plain is superb, but we had not come for that. We had come for wildlife.
Even from the ship, we saw that the beach was covered with King penguins. Stepping ashore from our Zodiacs, we were at once surrounded by birds, curious, yet nonchalant. The scene was so breathtaking that many of us froze in our tracks. The beauty and the quantity of birds were overwhelming.
Every King deserves an hour of contemplation. Their breasts are bright white, and flash in the sun with an inner metallic glint, like snow over mercury. Their backs are a diagonal lattice of ashy silver. Graceful strips of black delineate these regions. Yet all serves to accentuate the beauty of their heads.
The heads of King penguins are sleek and attenuated, with the elegance and exoticism of some undiscovered Egyptian god. They have ear-muffs of rich orange, and at their throats shine a citrus sunrise.
Whenever we could tear our eyes from such captivating visions, we found ten thousand more. Birds were trudging to and fro, contemplating one another in pairs, whacking and pecking at each other, or napping tummy-down like fusiform sausages.
Most of us walked the beach until we reached the breeding colony, where penguins were packed with unbelievable density and profusion. Standing at the colony’s edge, we saw birds lift their feathers to reveal eggs or tiny grey chicks. Elsewhere, nearly full-grown chicks stood, waiting for their parents’ return. As dumpy as the adults are refined, these pear-shaped “oakum boys” are covered in wispy cocoa-colored down.
Both beach and grassy plain were scattered with fur seals. Doe-eyed and fluffy, these creatures are enticing but spiteful. They huffed and growled at us, and often engaged in rollicking bluff-charges. Elsewhere, we found elephant seals. While molting, these seals appear leprous or mangy. Wallowing in their own filth, they are snot-nosed, lowering with red-rimmed eyes. Flaring their nostrils, they vent huge fart-like sighs. All together, the creatures are so vile as to exude a certain ironic charm.
Our morning was so filled with experience that it was hard to believe the afternoon could compete. Yet on Prion Island, wildlife was equally compelling. Circling the island by Zodiac, we were impressed by the number of South Georgia pipits. Initially underwhelming, these birds become impressive when one considers their unique qualities. Found just around South Georgia, they are the only songbird that survives in the Antarctic region. They are also diurnal ambassadors of a larger, less visible avian community. Like many islands, South Georgia suffers from a nasty infection of rats. Only on rat-free islets like Prion can one find tiny ground-nesting birds, such as its eponymous tubenose.
Once ashore on Prion Island, we climbed a boardwalk trail. At the island’s crest we found nesting albatrosses. At close range, the birds eyed us with implacable poise. True to their name, Wandering albatrosses travel thousands of miles in search of food. Yet here was the nexus of their peregrinations; here was the true center of the world. There is nothing like the surety of a creature that knows it is in exactly the right place.
Our experiences today were replete with the variety and fecundity of nature. All were convinced that South Georgia is one of the great wildlife destinations of the world.
