Remembering Patagonian penguins - an antidote to relentless bad news

Soon after we returned from a December-January trip to Chile and Argentina, I determined to write one blog post a week until I ran out of material. I managed three posts before I ran out of computer. My 2012 MacBook Pro was choking and gasping, taking forever to do anything. The spinning ball of death, black screens, refusal to sync with its Apple friends. Bad computer! I finally took it in for a checkup. It was in the shop for several days undergoing various murky but productive procedures. It's back! I'm saved from having to replace it for awhile. Now let's see how I do with one post a week. Thanks for reading! 

Love birds. Penguins mate for life.

I was chopping peppers and onions, listening to All Things Considered on NPR. It was dinnertime, just one day after the Florida high school  massacre, which was top news along with the DACA deportation threat. 

Kids shot dead. Kids raised in the USA facing deportation. It made me sad, angry, dyspeptic. I needed an antidote, something pure and pleasant to think about. 

A Magellanic penguin party on the path to a beach near Puerto Madryn, Argentina.

Penguins came to mind. And seagulls. Penguins and gulls on an island in the Strait of Magellan in Chile. Yes. The same Strait of Magellan that we learned about in elementary school when we were forced to memorize names of early explorers. Who cared? Not me. But now I do. It's the penguin effect.

On Chile's Isla Magdalena, thousands of penguins tended burrows and chicks on a windswept hillside with an ocean view. Penguins and their predators — seagulls, skua, petrals, and, in the sea not far away, hungry sea lions and maybe Orcas and leopard seals, waiting for a penguin snack. 

         About 100,000 penguins occupy the island during breeding time, a space 
they share uneasily with thousands of breeding seagulls.

Over the onions, I remembered that crisp morning in Patagonia, how we'd reluctantly agreed to a two-hour ferry ride to Isla Magdalena (and two hours back) to see penguins. Ho hum. (We'd visited another less dramatic but still engaging colony out of Puerto Madryn, Argentina a few days earlier.)

Then how within a few minutes of stepping off the boat, we were open-mouthed, wide-eyed witnesses to raw nature. Wild screeching and flapping, frenzied feeding, squabbles and fights to the death, tender parental care, necessary but cruel parental choices. Beautiful and 
brutal. 

A skua looks for unguarded chicks and/or eggs amongst the gulls. They eat primarily fish or krill, but are opportunistic in chick-rearing areas. 

It wasn't just thousands of penguins, but thousands of seagulls. Yes, those boring birds we see everywhere when we're not far from a large body of water.  They're so common and predictable, always snatching scraps and marauding around docks where fish are cleaned or loaded. But this was different. 

The penguins were raising young, but so were the gulls. The two species share space but  are not cooperative. The gulls are always grousing one another, and some hang out by penguin burrows hoping to snag spills when a parent comes to regurgitate food for chicks. Earlier, when the penguin chicks are smaller, the gulls eat them, if they can.

This solo mama accompanies her vulnerable chick. A skua might have it's eye on it. Or even another gull. Some gulls in the breeding season live almost entirely on the eggs and young of their own species, usually males with no young of their own. (Source: Birdforum) Egads! No wonder they fight.

These gulls are aggressive and loud. They're fighting. I'm guessing all males. Although there could be a female protecting her chick in this pile. We saw adult gull carcasses here and there, but we couldn't stick around long enough to see the results of this brawl. I wish I had the soundtrack. Ear piercing.

It may look as if this gull is landing in -  or leaving - a peaceful gathering, but the next minute the situation devolved into a fight. See previous photo.

The whole fam-damnly. Father guarding against gulls and anything else that may invade space around the burrow. The chicks look old enough to fend for themselves, but without waterproof insulating adult plumage, they'd die of hypothermia if they entered the sea to forage. Father is making a might noise. 

These well-fed healthy chicks apparently have two active parents. It looks like dad is in the nest while mom is taking her turn foraging in the ocean. 

In contrast, at least one of the parents of these chicks has come to a bad end, and they may be awaiting food that will never come. The chick on the right is on its last legs for sure, and the other, although twice as large, looks stressed. It was hard to see. Sometimes when one parent dies, the remaining parent chooses to feed only the stronger chick. If both parents perish, the chicks starve to death.

A Magellan goose, AKA upland goose, tries to hide her chick from an overwhelming,
in my opinion, number of predators. All those gulls!

This guy waddled right up to me, then I was chastened by a ranger for
 being too close. Getting to the beach was a mile-long hike on a wide
trail through a brushy area thick with penguin burrows under bushes. This
was in Argentina during our first penguin colony visit.

An adult penguin contemplates its cloaca, an all-purpose orifice
that handles urination, defecation, breeding, and birth. 

A penguin parent apparently reacting to heat. It was a sunny shirtsleeve day at the Argentinian penguin reserve. Several birds seemed affected by it. 

Earlier posts about our South American travels

Around Cape Horn - Happy 2018!
Ushuaia, Patagonian peat moss, and a polar plunge
Patagonian Paradox - the more you see, the more you want

Patagonia paradox - the more you see, the more you want

If you go to Patagonia's southern tip, hold onto your jaw as it is likely to drop.

A swath of color briefly illuminated the Beagle Channel, which was stunning even when shrouded with clouds and rain threatening. The channel is three miles wide at its narrowest point and 150 miles of awesome length. 

Much of this wildly beautiful and harsh territory is best seen by boat. Or maybe only by boat. That's how we experienced Cape Horn, the Beagle Channel, the Strait of Magellan and the Chilean fjords. If ever there was a reason to book a cruise to Patagonia, this is it.

Our two-week cruise on the Celebrity Infinity had the over-the-top amenities that make cruising popular—major eats, entertainment, swimming and soaking pools, a casino etc. etc. etc. But without the trip highlights, which, for us revolved around wild Patagonia, it would have just been two weeks on a floating buffet.

Our 10 days in Chile after the cruise were spent on a loosely planned but wonderfully executed off-the-cuff road trip in Patagonia, which suited us better. (More later, of course)

But I am grateful to have seen this historically fascinating and visually dazzling collection of fjords, mountains, glaciers and waterfalls at the very tip of South America's Tierra del Fuego Archipelago.

A series of glaciers in the Beagle Channel originate from the still-vast Darwin Icefield on the channel's north side. We were thrilled that our balcony room was starboard, and we spent hours and hours shivering as we drank in the passing scenery, (along with some wine). The landscape became more surreal with every passing moment. 

Glacial ice appears to be blue. It really isn't, but our eyes see it as such because ice absorbs all colors of the visible spectrum except for blue. Then again, if we see blue, isn't it true?  Whatever. The brilliant color makes the scene even more other worldly

Another glacier on its way to the tidewater. Currently only one glacier in Glacier Alley  actually reaches the channel.

This one doesn't quite make it.

We saw all of the above and more the same day that we hiked to Laguna Esmeralda! Even though the ship didn't leave Ushuaia until around 4:30 p.m., it was still light enough to see the sights in the Beagle Channel until around 11 p.m. We're talking  17-18 hours of light. Is there such a thing as too much natural light? I don't think so.

This is about it for vegetation in the channel and the fjords. However, indigenous people once lived here, and some early explorers escaped scurvy by foraging. In one account, a young Charles Darwin on the HMS Beagle, described seeing a naked woman suckling an infant. Sleet was melting on the woman's body and also the infant's. He was horrified. The region's weather is typically harsh. Other accounts report that the indigenous people coated their naked bodies with seal oil as protection from the elements. Others  report that seal skins were used as protection. In any case, it was an existence difficult to fathom. 

This photo was taken near where when the ship took a sharp north turn toward Punta Arenas, which is located on the Strait of Magellan. We enjoyed similar scenery for several days back-to-back. It got so that I felt guilty if I wasn't tethered every moment to our balcony, or at least a north-facing window. Or on Deck 4, where nature lovers without balconies congregated wrapped in parkas and wool scarves. 

Is there such a thing as too much natural splendor?

No. But there IS such a thing as not enough time.
 
Get it while you can!

Parting Shot

Earlier posts about our South American travels

Around Cape Horn - Happy 2018!
Ushuaia, Patagonian peat moss, and a polar plunge

Ushuaia, Patagonian peat moss, and a polar plunge

PK and I traveled through Chile and Argentina from December 18, 2017, to January 18, 2018,  first on a ship and then on a road trip. Most of the time we were with our son, Chris, and his partner, Chelsea. This is the second in a series of posts about sharing adventures with smart, intrepid, super-fit millennials on a mission to show us a great time. This post is about New Year's day when the assignment was hiking to a mountain lake via peat bogs and beaver dams. Polar plunge, optional.

PK and I at Laguna Esmeralda in the southern Andes Mountains near Ushuaia, Argentina, on the Tierra del Fuego Archipelago in Patagonia, which encompasses the southern reaches of Chile and Argentina. We never dreamed we'd be here. Remembering this, and other stellar days, is like a dream. Sure makes ordinary life, well, ordinary. 
Photo credit, Chris Korbulic  

This is how Ushuaia looked on New Years' morning as we awoke on the cruise ship. We got an early start on our hike because the ship was scheduled to leave early - 3:30 p.m. so as to have daylight to navigate Glacier Alley through the Beagle Channel. 

The 6.2-mile RT trail to the lake began as a flat stroll with an occasional hop over tree roots. This forest persisted as a thick grove for a while, but we saw many more of this beech-like tree called Lenga, in different sizes and conditions along the trail. We hired a taxi both ways as the trailhead was 20 kilometers, about 12.5 miles, from Ushuaia. The driver also arranged to pick us up. Cost? $100. Nobody said traveling in Chile/Argentina is cheap. On the other hand, guided tours were being offered for this hike at $140 a person. Guess we did OK.

This hike was not a shore excursion arranged via the cruise ship, but one Chelsea knew about due to her status as the ship's naturalist. It was just the four of us, although we saw other small groups along the way. The trail wasn't too steep. It did, however, require balancing on shifting footing, jumping over obstacles, and getting your feet wet and/or muddy. 

After climbing a short heart-pumping slope we ended up in a peat bog! The earth's surface, a quick Google search reveals, is covered 3 percent with peat. The southern hemisphere's bogs, mostly in Patagonia, represent only 1 percent of the total. Peat is an accumulation of partially decayed vegetation, and a peat ecosystem is the most effective carbon sink on the planet. For hikers, though, the peat is a pain. Think mud.

Makeshift (and shifting) bridges carried us over some of the
mud holes. But many sections were without a clear trail.
Hiking poles are recommended! I managed to find a serviceable stick
in the woods. And left it, a stick in the mud. 

Another group heads over to take a look at a significant beaver dam that blocked a creek to form a pond. Beavers are not native, and their work is considered destructive.

Chelsea and Chris at Laguna Esmeralda, which is fed by glacial melt. A few minutes after this photo was taken, they did something that was common throughout our month together. Whenever cold, clear water was near, and they could get to it without serious injury, they went for a dip. I couldn't believe it either. 

Chris leaps rock-to-rock over the river flowing from the lake, chasing Chelsea as she charges over hill and dale for a private polar dip. I read later that we could have taken a path to the right and circled the small lake, even climbed to the glacier that feeds it. 

We were surrounded by mountains. Every turn brought another ahhhhhh vista.

This grey fox appeared on the return trip not far off the trail. It seemed amenable to being photographed as we were not the first to click cameras around it. Earlier, we saw an Andean Condor. Quite a thrill! However, it was too distant and active for a photo.

  The fox hurried downhill, perhaps tired of the attention.
 It was fun to see that its tail was as long as its body
 and twice as bushy.

Chelsea, her hair still damp from her polar plunge,
couldn't contain her enthusiasm as we made
our way back to the trailhead. 
 Agreed. It was a fine day!

We were back in Ushuaia in time for lunch and were
jazzed about sampling the King Crab for which the area is known.
Alas, the cruise ship had spilled so many people into the town that
finding four seats in a seafood restaurant at 2 p.m. was as unlikely as
having clean boots after navigating a peat bog.

Our last look at beautiful Ushuaia as we sailed away on this unforgettable New Year's Day. I feel bad about not having had time to see the nearby Tierra del Fuego National Park or any of the SEVEN museums in a town of around 60,000 (as of the 2010 census.) 

(The negatives about cruising, which I plan to explore in a later post, include port visits that can only touch the surface.)

Ushuaia has a surprising electronics industry in addition to tourism and a naval presence. However, its major claim to fame, emblazoned on many a T-shirt and hat, is that it is located at The End of the World—the southernmost city in South America.   

EARLIER POST ABOUT THIS TRIP

Rounding Cape Horn - a New Year's Eve to remember 

https://ordinarylife-mk.blogspot.com/2018/01/around-horn-happy-new-year-2018.html

Around the Horn - Happy New Year 2018!

A typical scene off the southern part of Argentina from a cruise ship. Cape Horn is not far away. This area encompasses a park called Tierra Del Fuego, which is part Argentina, part Chile. It is also part of Patagonia, which encompasses the southern-most reaches of each of the two nations. They don't always like each other.

We celebrated New Years Eve sailing around Cape Horn - the southernmost tip of South America - with our son, Chris Korbulic and his partner, Chelsea Behymer. The experience - and the entire month traveling that it included - was stellar, way more than we could have hoped for back in late October. That was when we discovered that our original winter travel plans had been crushed.

What we'd planned—two to three months on the Baja Peninsula in our camper van.

Why it didn't work — Van requires ultra-low sulphur diesel fuel, which is not yet widely enough available in Mexico. 

What we decided, on a whim, to do instead — try for a last-minute cruise deal in South America.  

So en route home from visiting our Reno family, I began searching. An outfit called Vacations to Go includes last-minute cruise deals. The site asks for trip preferences to narrow your search, so I put in two: Depart in early December and start from Chile. 

Only one result popped up, a 15-day Celebrity Infinity cruise starting in Santiago, Chile, sailing around Cape Horn and ending in Buenos Aires. 

Interesting!  Cape Horn!

But wait! I felt my heartbeat quicken. 

I asked PK,  Isn't Celebrity the cruise line that Chelsea contracts with for her naturalist programs? And isn't she expecting to do her first contract in South America sometime this winter?! 

I texted her.

Seconds later she confirmed. YES!

Random and wild. It gets better.

Not only would she be on this ship, but if we could wait a couple weeks and embark in Buenos Aires, Argentina, instead, Chris would be with us, too. 

Unbelievable. Unstoppable. A gift from the Universe.

Within a few hours we went from doldrums and searching blindly for a destination, to anticipating a sea-and-land journey beyond our imagining. Three days later we were booked for the trip of a lifetime. 

We also made plans to spend a few days with Chris in Argentina before the cruise, and for a two-week road trip in Chile afterwards. I hope to write a series of posts with words and photos highlighting some of the best days ever.

Here's the first, New Year's Eve 2017, sailing around Cape Horn and then through the Beagle Channel.

We spent a lot of time on our cruise ship veranda with binoculars and cameras on December 31, 2017, and many other days. Even though December and January are officially summer, we were, for a time, just 400 miles from Antarctica. The days are long and can be cold. We used every bit of winter clothing we packed. This was one trip where we did not succeed in getting by with carry-on luggage only.

The cruise highlights, for us, were mostly contained within this mapped area. After our leisurely look at Cape Horn,(see below) the Infinity made its way to Ushuaia via the Beagle Channel, named after a ship that did the first hydrographic survey there. On its second voyage the HMS Beagle had on board an amateur naturalist, young Charles Darwin, who paid his own way while gathering information that led to the the theory of evolution as described in his book, Origin of the Species. 

Albatrosses were thick on this day, December 31, 2017. Hundreds, if not thousands filled the air and the sea. This image represents a fraction of the multitudes. What are they doing? Most likely feeding on sealife brought by upwelling as currents from the Atlantic and Pacific oceans collide. The oceans were in a rare state of calm, defying the Horn's reputation as weather hell. 

Albatrosses flying solo, or in small groups, were common.

For the first time in three years, the captain announced the Infinity would pause at Cape Horn, and he would guide the ship on a lazy 360 turn. Passengers were invited to the helipad, usually closed. I was disappointed that we missed the drama of high seas, but was grateful for the long look at a historical place. Part of our journey was reading nonfiction books (on small devices) about early explorations, primarily about Magellan. More about this later.

As the ship paused at Cape Horn, Chelsea was invited to bring "her family" up to the captain's bridge to enjoy the view. We did. Plus it was fun seeing the command post.

Imperial cormorants. The only ones we saw.

Lack of brilliant color didn't detract from the pleasing effects of light and clouds, land and sea, in all directions. 

The next stop: Ushuaia, Argentina, and a New Year's Day hike I'll never forget. Well, we didn't take any hikes on this trip that I will forget. But this was the first hike of 2018. And after hiking, came Glacier Alley. Unforgettable, of course. Pictures coming. 

If good fortune is leading you toward a cruise, spring for a
cabin with a balcony, or veranda, as they're called.
The extra cost was worth every peso. If you go around the Horn
from Buenos Aires, be sure to get a starboard cabin. Best views!

A Christmas story from the grocery store

The woman in front of me in a bargain-store grocery line looked tired. A bit on the heavy side, she was dressed in saggy pants and a well-worn sweatshirt. Her hair was unkempt, her posture slumped. 

I made a quick judgement. Poor white trash.

I should know, at my advanced age, that you can NEVER judge a person by appearance. I learned that when teaching high school in my twenties. Not infrequently, the most thoughtful, creative, sensitive, interesting and bright students were also the weirdest looking.

I overheard the poor white trash lady telling the checker that she was exhausted and  soooo glad that she didn't have to go to work the next day (Saturday) and that she had two weeks off.

"Oh," I piped in."You're a teacher?"

Brilliant deduction, eh? I continued my strong line of questioning.  I was once a reporter, you know.

"What grade do you teach?" I inquired.

Another preconceived notion wormed into my brain; a woman with her appearance probably didn't have a college degree and taught in an unlicensed daycare or preschool. This was not a conscious thought, but there it was anyway.

But no.  She taught two high school classes and three junior high. (I didn't ask what subjects she taught. But by now I'm thinking physics or math.)

She said she works in a Title 1 school, which means a school where the majority of students are officially impoverished, qualifying for reduced or free lunch. Homelessness, child abuse and neglect, domestic violence, meth use, hunger, lack of health and dental care, yards festering with rusted cars and crumbling appliances, skinny dogs and feral cats are not uncommon. And neither are feral kids.

Sadly, this type of poverty not unusual in rural Southern Oregon. Teachers who choose to work in impoverished communities are to be honored.

Now she has my full attention.

"I teach five classes a day, and yesterday I had a Christmas party for every class,' she said.

No wonder she was tired. But it gets more interesting.

Not only did she have five holiday parties, but each one was a tea party! I didn't get all the details, but she mentioned the porcelain tea cups and little sandwiches and such. And the fact that she had lots of volunteers helping out.

Imagine! I could hardly. Five hours of porcelain tea cups in the hands of adolescents.

In my twenties, I taught four years of high school English in Minnesota, and one year in a Southern Oregon middle school, the worst year of my life! Including 2002, the year I almost died of septic shock.

I told her I'd been a teacher and strongly preferred high school to junior high.

"Not me," said declared. "I like them both, but the younger kids are my favorites."

"That's great! "I enthused. "The junior high kids really need people who love them."

After a pause, she looked me the eye and said, "They do need that, and that's what I give them. I love them."

Her groceries were checked, and so were my misconceptions.

I thanked her for the vital work she's doing, and for loving young people who can be difficult to love.

She was headed toward the exit and flashed a bright smile as she rounded the corner toward the parking lot.

As she left the store with her overflowing cart, I thought she was the most beautiful person I'd met in ages.  A dedicated teacher with an overflowing heart.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to her, and to all teachers.

 And to you, people who read my blog. You can't imagine how much I appreciate you.

May 2018 be filled with insights, adventures, love, acts of kindness, and impromptu and enlightening conversations with strangers, no matter what they look like.

Let your little light shine.