The Bay of Isles, South Georgia
There is no such thing as a gentle 5a.m. wakeup call.
Nevertheless, more than half of us tumbled from bed and bundled up in the darkness, then head off onto the black sand beaches of South Georgia’s Bay of Isles. Already, a committee of curious king penguins had circled our ship, and as we rode across the waves towards shore, every little splash—every whitecap—represented a paddling king penguin.
Behind a line of dominant mountains, the sky began to blush peach, then turning to yellow and pink, finally announcing the sun. With us to greet the new day were at least 100,000 pairs of penguins, trumpeting louder with the new light. As we made our way up to the giant colony of birds, we rubbed shoulders with several thousand commuting penguins, all heading away from this southern Salisbury Plain to the foamy shore and the great sea beyond. Over time, this web-footed traffic has shaped meandering sand paths, outlined with smooth, wave-worn stones.
A glorious sunrise lit up the snow-thick ice of the George and Lucas glaciers that surrounded the plain of penguins. The symphony and stench were both overwhelming, as was the emotion of being so outnumbered by a single species of bird. Having photographed so many penguins already, I was grateful for the chance to put down my camera and merely watch the moving spectacle that is Salisbury Plain. Some of us perched on clumps of tussock grass to admire all the newly-hatched chicks, crying for food. Others barely left the beach, dizzy with the comings and goings of penguins entering and exiting the water.
After a sumptuous brunch, we made another landing on the pure and rat-free island of Prion Island. Here the tussocks looked greener and thicker—a symbol of South Georgia’s original glory (which we hope will return after the rat eradication is completed). Hiking atop Prion Island brought us face to face with half a dozen nesting wandering albatross, who seemed completely unbothered by our presence. Overhead, another six or so albatross made loops in the air, showing off their magnificent wingspan. Impressive as these mighty birds may be, the birders in our group were most vocal about the beloved (and endemic) South Georgia Pipit, which chirped and flitted its gold and brown plumage closer to shore.
Following a surprise back-deck barbecue, complete with German sausage, beer, and unstoppable sunshine, we cruised through the spectacular scenery of Possession Bay, where Captain James Cook claimed South Georgia for the British Crown in 1775. As we bid farewell to this wonderful sub-Antarctic island, we remembered the explorers who first encountered the ice, the mountains and the tremendous wildlife. And then, like James Cook, we continued our voyage, heading out into the open ocean towards new adventures and a new continent.
