It's a child's game really. "Find the one that is different." And yet we played it today. We think back to the day we first met a penguin in the wild. It was a week ago perhaps at Aitchoo Island in the South Shetlands.

There were two species then, the chinstraps and gentoos. We recognized them by size, although only inches separated them in height. Pattern was the defining feature. Both wore fashionable counter-shaded suits, white in front and black on the back, a most appropriate choice for camouflage from predators in the sea and in the air. Their beaks and hats were tailored differently however. The chinstraps wore black baseball caps, their beaks blending in with the brim. Prepared for windy days, they securely fastened them under their chins with a matching strap. Gentoos seemed to favor lipstick in brilliant red, both male and female alike. Their earmuffs never seemed to fit, for they had slipped forward to perch just above their eyes. At Paulet Island, Adelie penguins paraded up and down the beach, their white eye rings setting them apart from all their relatives.

Our visit to the Antarctic Peninsula complete, we returned to the islands today, to Hannah Point on Livingston Island. No longer will our minds create a generic penguin picture when we hear the word. With seventeen species of penguins in the southern hemisphere, the variety of images has expanded to the point where we will forever demand a modifier be added to the term.

Our fourth species was discovered shortly after landing this morning. Scanning the first group of chinstrap nests and chicks, a pair stood out. Their size was close but these two seemed bulkier in build. Their beaks were heavier and reddish in hue. But it was the hair-do that stopped us all in our tracks. Feathers about the color of the processed cheese that comes in a box of quick-mix pasta stuck out in all directions. Any punk rocker would be jealous of this species: macaroni penguins.