More king penguins. A lot more king penguins. We have apparently made the trifecta of South Georgia. Apparently the three largest king penguin colonies in the world, with St. Andrew's Bay being the biggest. Those king penguins seem to really like windy places. Two of the three had hella winds. Often enough to try to knock you over! I seriously needed a hiking stick to stay upright! There were king penguins as far as the eye could see and then some. Huddled in the midst was one who had been wounded. Our guides thought he had probably escaped a leopard seal attack. They were torn on whether it would likely survive, with one hoping to see the scavengers get to work before we left! Keep in mind that it is difficult or impossible to sex a king penguin from a distance, so even if I use a gender for the penguin, it must be considered just a fluid and generic pronoun. Also, don't get me wrong. I love king penguins, but I am ready now to move on to another species. Bring on the rock hoppers and magellanics in the Malvinas – er Falklands! I am starting to be able to tell that four days of tough landings is a little much, between the tussac grass of Gold Harbour and the winds and uneven grounds of St. Andrews and today's Salisbury Plain, my right leg is saying enough and giving way. It's doing it enough that I'm holding hand rails and unable to walk without a limp. But, I will soldier on because FOMO!
Thankfully, the last outing before two days at sleep – er sea! - is a zodiac cruise. So long as I can get into and out of the zodiac, the rest of it will be spent on my butt. And so far, the staff and crew has been able to get me in and out of zodiacs even in the worst of conditions. Leaving St. Andrews Bay this morning, that meant me backing up to the zodiac and lifting a leg and the guides just rolling me up and over into the boat! It worked, and I'm good with that! But I can use these next two days to rest. After lunch, while the ship was repositioning, driving close to Prion Island where wandering albatross are known to be nesting, I fell asleep sitting in the balcony (covered by a duvet) watching for that one particular, noted, coveted bird. I woke up to Phil announcing our arrival at Prince Olav Harbor, our afternoon destination. I don't know if anybody saw any wandering albatross while I was sleeping.
Prince Olav Harbor is the home to an old whaling station. The government of South Georgia is currently studying the best way to remove existing asbestos from the old whaling stations. In the meantime, they are just slowly deteriorating, with Mother Nature doing her thing. Other than Grytviken, where they have removed the buildings that had asbestos some time ago, there are no landings at the old whaling stations, and ships and zodiacs must stay a certain amount of space away from them in hopes that the passengers are not exposed to asbestos just flying around in the general vicinity. It was a pretty neat place. The ship was intentionally scuttled for some reason. It and the remainder of the ruins are just up my alley of things I like to see and take pictures of (aside from wildlife, of course)!
I love ya', South Georgia, but I'm really looking forward to these next two days at rest while repositioning to Las Malvinas - or as called when actually there, the Falkland Islands. (I've spent more time in Argentina than Great Britain at this point, so I've grown accustomed to using the Argentinean name!)
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