The Pia glacier is huge ... it’s as wide as the Liffey at the O’Connell Bridge and a million shades of white
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and I’m just back from seeing their courting ritual on my four-night Australis Expedition cruise to Argentina and Chile.
Penguins serenade their loved ones with song.
Bless them, it’s appalling but they do give it a go.
They tilt their heads towards the sky, open their mouths and pump up their chests by sucking in large gasps of air.
Then the magic happens, a variety of noises are let loose from the males’ throats including belching, howling and barking. Then they waddle over to their darling. Or at least until he gets tired of her .... (males, huh!)
Unlike every other breed of penguin, the Magellan from Chile isn’t monogamous!
But that apart the Magellanic penguins can teach us a thing or two about equality.
While the female will choose the male with the biggest house, it’s his job to keep it up to scratch by cleaning it regularly and decorating with bit and bobs found along the beach.
They also share exactly half the responsibil- ity each in rearing the chicks.
Not a bad deal, in my humble opinion.
Unfortunately I was told in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t allowed to take a penguin home with me. Spoilsports!
But I took a host of memories and photographs which I’m only too happy to share.
THE Ventus Australis Expedition cruise ship is small by cruise ship standards. Its capacity is just 200 passengers so it’s perfectly formed to navigate the canal, straight and sounds of Patagonia.
It needs to be agile in order to cruise and bend through the labyrinth that is the Beagle canal so the Ventus Australis brand new expedition ship is tailor-made for the job.
The floor-to-ceiling window that was the width of my cabin means you don’t miss a thing!
Every day the passengers joined smaller groups and were allocated an expedition leader who spoke our language.
We’d go for hikes up the mountains to find the best views across Tierra del Fuego archipelago or alongside ancient glaciers.
And nobody loves the penguins and other inhabitants of this region more than the guides, apart from, of course the penguins.
The guides work closely with an organisation of scientists called CEQUA (Center of Quaternary Studies Fuego-Patagonia and Antarctica) to monitor and protect Patagonia’s wildlife and ecosystem.
One guide, Chris, went as far as to say that Patagonia is imprinted in his heart and that she is in fact his first love. That possibly comes with living on the ship eight months of the year without visiting family or friends!
But you wouldn’t blame him after seeing the glaciers close up.
Some glaciers are more active than others, of course, because of global warming, and I witnessed a massive carving at Pia glacier in the Beagle canal in Chile.
When you see Mother Nature acting out so powerfully, changing the face of a millennia-old structure in seconds, you are very quickly reminded who is boss. It really isn’t us mere humans. The sheer size of Pia is epic; it’s about the width of the River Liffey at O’Connell Bridge and is a million different shades of white, ranging from blueish to reddish.
It’s hard to believe you can see all the colours of the rainbow in a white sheet of ice.
Pia herself has been around since the last Ice Age so I can only imagine what her peaks and crevices would say if they could talk.
Instead it’s left to us to try to describe this beautiful and, alas changing land and seascape.
And what is called in these parts, a Patagonia moment. Let me explain. After a full day’s sailing some of the most treacherous waters known to sailors it was our time to
get off the ship and head into the mountains around Wulaia Bay.
The hike wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, so when I got to the top I needed to sit and catch my breath.
I was trying to concentrate on the speech Chris, my expedition leader was giving to the group about the formation and geology of the region but the views kept stealing my attention. Then it happened. The voices of the group all drowned out, it was just the moun- tain and me.
I was left gobsmacked at what I was witnessing.
The navy blue sea hugging the base of the facing mountain peak across the bay.
Clouds broke away from the light blue sky to sit with the snow atop the mountain.
I was staring closely trying to figure out where the snow from the cap of the mountain ends and the clouds begin when I felt it.
It felt like something clenching inside my stomach.
My hands were shaking and my lip was all jittery... and then the tears flowed.
Cringing now even thinking about it, I don’t know what came over me. But that’s what Patagonia does too you.
Once I got myself together, I split away from the group and made my way back down to the bay where Chris was waiting to ask me about my Patagonia moment.
I do hope the Magellanic Penguins don’t take it for granted.