OH MY FREAKING GAWD!!! I SAW PENGUINS!!!!
Like hundreds of penguins! In their natural habitat! Roaming free in the ocean! Hanging out on the beach! Waddling to and fro! Feeding their young! Preening! Sleeping! Squawking! Keeping their babies warm under their fuzzy tummies!
OH MY FREAKING GAWD!!!
Our tour yesterday was the one I have been eagerly anticipating and worrying about most.
We were on the Falkland Islands – which I had forgotten belonged to the UK (sorry, Argentina) – and booked on a highly reviewed and quickly sold-out penguin tour to a private hunk of land called Bluff Cove Lagoon.
I booked the tour almost a year ago. I chose it because it promised proximate viewing of two types of penguins: the Gentoo (noted for their orange beaks and feet) and the King (smaller versions of the sunset-colored Emperors).
I fretted about the tour because to access the cove, we had to (some would say “got to”) go off-roading through ditches and ravines and over rocks in rugged 4x4 Land Rovers. Everything I read about this tour – the Princess description, the TripAdvisor reviews, the tour tickets – warned it was NOT for people with back or neck conditions. Because, you know, penguins don’t naturally congregate in paved parking lots.
I really struggled with booking this tour. I mean really struggled.
On the one hand, going off-roading is a clearly stupid idea with titanium in one’s back. Every sign pointed to my back being in a heap of pain after, if not during, the tour. The tour was such a questionable idea, I told practically nobody of my plans. I knew everyone would try to talk me out of it, with logic and facts I could not dispute.
On the other hand, I have been saying “no” to experiences for half of my life because of my back. I have had to be a grown up and all mature and forego activities that I know would bring my spirit joy. For 25 years. I did not want my back to win this one.
I adore penguins (I had a sizable collection of penguin figurines, knick-knacks, t-shirts, etc. when I was a teenager). I could not bear being this close to the adorable waddles-in-the-wild and pass up the opportunity because of my titanium.
So…I took every precaution I could. I brought special pillows and cushions in the Land Rover. I positioned myself in the front seat so I could use the door and center console as stabilizers. I had a heat wrap. I was medicated. I prayed.
And a day later…I’m fine. Sore, yes. Horizontal and medicated and re-charging my TENS unit, yes. But broken? Not even close. And my spirit is SOARING!!!
BECAUSE PENGUINS!!
After a dental-work-rattling ride that bumped my sunglasses off my head, we finally arrived at the grassy knoll teeming with penguins. I turned around and looked at Rob in the Land Rover’s back seat with my jaw dropped and my eyes sparkling.
“THERE ARE PENGUINS OVER THERE!!!”
This was news to absolutely nobody but it still seemed worthy of breathless announcement.
We got out of the vehicle. A naturalist started talking. I have no idea what he said because PENGUINS!
There were hundreds of them on the grass just up from the sandy beach. OH MY GAWD!
Being birds of a feather, they had organized themselves into three groups. The farthest group was sort of nature’s outcasts: they hadn’t mated and therefore had no babies to tend to. They seemed happy enough, I didn’t fear for their self-esteems.
Another group closer to us consisted of parents with tiny, fuzzy chicks under their bellies or eggs incubating on top of their feet.
The third group was older chicks who were full of fuzz and were begging me to pet them while they waited for their parents to come back from the ocean with dinner. I resisted trying to touch the grey and white fuzz balls but it took a lot of grown-up will power.
Almost all of the penguins were Gentoos. They were about as tall as my knee. There was a group of about a dozen King penguins mingled in. The Kings were a bit taller (maybe to my mid-thigh) and were absolutely gorgeous with the iconic red/orange/yellow patches on their heads and necks.
And then later, down at the ocean’s edge, we spotted one pair of Magellanic penguins. They were the smallest of the three types (maybe 6 inches shorter than the Gentoos) and were all black and white with white stripes on their heads and from their necks to their fins.
I stood at the edge of the small white plastic flags marking a barrier and just stared with utter amazement. The penguins were unbelievably adorable!
They fluffed their feathers, they preened, some slept or sunbathed belly-down, young ones tussled with their beaks, adults sat still with purpose as they protected their babies. All just penguins doing their penguin thing without much regard for the gawking tourists with cameras and stuffed pigs.
I focused just enough on the naturalist to hear him say “…. parents coming up from the beach with food this time of day…” I swiveled my head towards the water and giggled uncontrollably as I saw a small line of parent penguins waddling their way across the beach towards us.
I SAW PENGUINS WADDLE!!!
I watched as one realized it had to go past me to get to its hungry chick. I stayed as still as I could, despite trembling with glee, as the penguin ignored the white flags and waddled about three feet away from me!! I decided not to take pictures and instead experienced the moment as fully as I could. IT WAS INCREDIBLE!!
I had a really difficult time tearing myself away from the penguin groups on the grass, but the naturalist insisted that it was worth trekking down to the water’s edge to see the penguins come in from a day of fishing.
It was all I could do not to run on the sand once I saw what was happening down on the beach.
There were no flags, no barriers, just us and the penguins. There were maybe a dozen of them standing on the sand preening or shaking ocean water off their feathers before waddling off to find their young.
Rob pointed out to the water.
“I think that’s one coming in right now.”
More properly announced, “OH MY GAWD! THERE’S A PENGUIN SWIMMING AND JUMPING AND DIVING IN THE OCEAN!! RIGHT IN FRONT OF US!!”
Cue more uncontrollable giggling.
I just could not get enough of the penguins! I smiled. I giggled. I teared up. I took a zillion photos and videos. I kissed Rob repeatedly, thanking him for being willing to go on this trip with me. I acted exactly like I’ve seen so many people respond the first time they meet Rojo the Llama after cyber stalking him for months or years. I get it, Rojo Fans. I so totally, utterly, completely get it.
We were the last Bluff Cove Penguin tour of the day, which wasn’t my choice. But thanks to some scheduling issues a few days ago, it’s where Princess put us. I can’t thank them enough.
Because we were at the cove so late in the day, we got to see the penguins come in from fishing. The morning clouds had burned off and we had spectacular sun and blue skies against the backdrop of green grass and black and white penguins. We had a chance to meet Kevin, the owner, and sincerely thank him for sharing his property and allowing me to experience penguins in the wild. So grateful we were the last ones there.
There were other parts to the day. We spent the morning on a tour of the eastern Falkland Island where the 1982 war with Argentina was fought. It was very weird to be on battlefields of a war I actually remember happening, albeit from the spotty interest of a 14-year-old.
The tour was very interesting, guided by a man who was one of the war’s casualties (he lost an eye and gained some shrapnel when his sheep farm was misidentified as an Argentine camp). I followed most of his information and strategy up until we were getting dangerously close to needing to be back in town for our penguin tour. Thereafter I was only a tiny bit distracted.
The main town of Stanley was super duper small and very quaint. The house roofs were all painted different colors to bring some happy to the otherwise monotone landscape of cement-colored rocks and yellow/green squishy bogs.
The residents all have British accents and use a currency linked to the British pound that is useless off the islands. I overheard several tourists with British accents saying how much they liked Stanley. “I have no idea why I like it so much.” And then answering her own question, “It just feels like home.”
Rob and I were on the very last tender to leave Stanley for our ship (the Emerald Princess was anchored off shore about a 20-minute boat ride away). I managed to beg my way into a closed gift shop so I could buy a souvenir penguin I had spotted earlier. I didn’t want to buy it until I saw a real penguin in real life. The Falkland Islands were sorry to see me go. So much penguin gear coming home to Woodhaven!!
Back on board and enjoying a glass of wine on our balcony, Rob and I were treated to one last surprise to cap a truly spectacular day.
With binoculars, we were able to see colonies of penguins all along the beaches of the east Falkland Island as we headed out to sea (once again, the port side of the ship ROCKS!). And then we saw penguins swimming in the ocean on their way back to the beach (they reportedly go out as far as 5 miles to feed). And then we saw about five whales. And then three black and white dolphins put on a Sea World-quality jumping show near the bow of the ship.
Speechless. And so utterly grateful for days like this and for my life on this beautiful planet.
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