Gentoo Penguins Return to the Sea – Cuverville Island
We spent the day in the company of Gentoo penguins. These birds, compared with their congeners, have a calm and contemplative manner. Looking into their eyes, one seems to find an answer, as if the birds were trying to perceive our thoughts. Perhaps this is why they may have been named for meditative “Hindus.”
We landed in the morning at Cuverville Island. This island is but a speck, tucked into the Errera Channel, itself but an indentation of the Gerlache Strait. But for the Gentoos it is a metropolis. In fact, it is the largest Gentoo colony on the peninsula, with 6000 nesting pairs, and more arriving every year. Gentoo are a great success on the Antarctic Peninsula. Comparatively temperate, they seem to be benefitting from the steady warming of this region. We found that conditions were challenging, as might be expected in Antarctica. We maneuvered through a labyrinth of icebergs to reach the shore, then had to walk overland through deep snow. But a compacted trail led us to the birds, and all was worth the trouble. It is hard to describe the feeling of visiting a colony of breeding penguins. The birds commute busily to and from the sea, trumpet vociferously, hiss at intruders, bow to their mates, and steal pebbles from each other’s nests, yet the feeling of the place is of calm and wonder. All was not sweetness and light, however. Skuas kept a scrutinizing eye on the place. They looked down on the colony from wing or promontory, ready to exploit a moment’s lack of vigilance on the part of the penguins. We witnessed the result of their watchfulness. Most of us saw a broken egg by the side of our trail, the remains of a skua’s meal, and many saw a skua flying off, a whole egg held triumphantly in its bill.
Afternoon found us at Port Lockroy. This research station was built by the British in 1944. Masquerading as a scientific outpost, its first function was to monitor Nazi shipping. However, significant scientific research was conducted here, particularly concerning the upper atmosphere. Abandoned in the 60’s, the station has since been restored, and serves as a museum. Much of the attraction of Port Lockroy is its wildlife. The Gentoos that nest here are completely habituated, and thought nothing of our presence just a few feet away. Snowy sheathbills strutted busily about, their sublime white plumage contrasting startlingly with their vile way of life as the colony’s “sanitary engineers.” We also saw a couple of errant Chinstrap penguins, for us the final member of the pygoscelid triad. Inside the museum, we saw the cozy quarters of the researchers, filled with period food tins and magazines. We also saw the vacuum-tubed gizmo used to study the atmosphere. But for most the gift shop was the greatest attraction – a place to get penguin-studded souvenirs of Antarctica, or to post letters from the Last Continent. Most of us also stopped at nearby Jougla Point. Like many a quiet bay, Port Lockroy was once a base for moored factory whaling ships. We saw piles of great bleached bones - the remains of the whalers’ bloody work. We also found a Weddell seal here, taking a comfortable snooze in the snow.
Having spent some time outside in the increasingly stiff breeze, it was a pleasure to step back aboard our ship. Northbound, gazing through the ship’s broad windows, we found the fog and snow, obscuring the landscape, made as remarkable a view as any we had shared in Antarctica.
We spent the day in the company of Gentoo penguins. These birds, compared with their congeners, have a calm and contemplative manner. Looking into their eyes, one seems to find an answer, as if the birds were trying to perceive our thoughts. Perhaps this is why they may have been named for meditative “Hindus.”
We landed in the morning at Cuverville Island. This island is but a speck, tucked into the Errera Channel, itself but an indentation of the Gerlache Strait. But for the Gentoos it is a metropolis. In fact, it is the largest Gentoo colony on the peninsula, with 6000 nesting pairs, and more arriving every year. Gentoo are a great success on the Antarctic Peninsula. Comparatively temperate, they seem to be benefitting from the steady warming of this region. We found that conditions were challenging, as might be expected in Antarctica. We maneuvered through a labyrinth of icebergs to reach the shore, then had to walk overland through deep snow. But a compacted trail led us to the birds, and all was worth the trouble. It is hard to describe the feeling of visiting a colony of breeding penguins. The birds commute busily to and from the sea, trumpet vociferously, hiss at intruders, bow to their mates, and steal pebbles from each other’s nests, yet the feeling of the place is of calm and wonder. All was not sweetness and light, however. Skuas kept a scrutinizing eye on the place. They looked down on the colony from wing or promontory, ready to exploit a moment’s lack of vigilance on the part of the penguins. We witnessed the result of their watchfulness. Most of us saw a broken egg by the side of our trail, the remains of a skua’s meal, and many saw a skua flying off, a whole egg held triumphantly in its bill.
Afternoon found us at Port Lockroy. This research station was built by the British in 1944. Masquerading as a scientific outpost, its first function was to monitor Nazi shipping. However, significant scientific research was conducted here, particularly concerning the upper atmosphere. Abandoned in the 60’s, the station has since been restored, and serves as a museum. Much of the attraction of Port Lockroy is its wildlife. The Gentoos that nest here are completely habituated, and thought nothing of our presence just a few feet away. Snowy sheathbills strutted busily about, their sublime white plumage contrasting startlingly with their vile way of life as the colony’s “sanitary engineers.” We also saw a couple of errant Chinstrap penguins, for us the final member of the pygoscelid triad. Inside the museum, we saw the cozy quarters of the researchers, filled with period food tins and magazines. We also saw the vacuum-tubed gizmo used to study the atmosphere. But for most the gift shop was the greatest attraction – a place to get penguin-studded souvenirs of Antarctica, or to post letters from the Last Continent. Most of us also stopped at nearby Jougla Point. Like many a quiet bay, Port Lockroy was once a base for moored factory whaling ships. We saw piles of great bleached bones - the remains of the whalers’ bloody work. We also found a Weddell seal here, taking a comfortable snooze in the snow.
Having spent some time outside in the increasingly stiff breeze, it was a pleasure to step back aboard our ship. Northbound, gazing through the ship’s broad windows, we found the fog and snow, obscuring the landscape, made as remarkable a view as any we had shared in Antarctica.
