Naturalist's Notebook Guest Post: Photographing the Endangered Spirit Bear

March 3, 2016

British photographer, conservationist and environmental traveler Jenny Varley shared with us some of the amazing photos she took of Kermode (KER-mode) bears, one of the world's rarest animals, on the coast of British Columbia in Canada. Kermodes (named for Francis Kermode, a Canadian zoologist who studied them) are also called spirit bears because of their white, ghostlike coloration. They're the official mammal of British Columbia. Here's Jenny's description of these extraordinary animals and her experience watching and photographing them:

Because both parents must carry the gene mutation responsible for producing a white bear, white spirit bears can give birth to black cubs, which remain black all of their lives. (photo by Jenny Varley) — Because both parents must carry the gene mutation responsible for producing a white bear, white spirit bears can give birth to black cubs, which remain black all of their lives. (photo by Jenny Varley)

By Jenny Varley

Spirit bears are a subspecies of the American black bear. They are found only in the northwest coastal regions of British Columbia, predominantly in the 12,000-square-mile Great Bear Rainforest (see map below), in which they are the iconic species. On some islands in the Great Bear Rainforest, spirit bears may make up 40% of the (non-grizzly) bear population. It is estimated there may only be 300 to 400 such bears, which makes them rarer than giant pandas!

Studies have found that the white bears are more successful than black bears at hunting salmon during the day, when—from a fish-eye view—their coloration makes them less visible against the sky. (photo by Jenny Varley) — Studies have found that the white bears are more successful than black bears at hunting salmon during the day, when—from a fish-eye view—their coloration makes them less visible against the sky. (photo by Jenny Varley)

Spirit bears are not albinos and although their predominant color is white they have varying amounts of ginger in their coats. Their eyes are pigmented and they also often have pigmented snouts. The genetic basis for the white pelage has been identified as a mutation in the gene encoding the receptor for melanocortin 1, a protein involved in the regulation of pigment production in cells called melanocytes. The mutation is recessive, which means that for a spirit bear to be white it must have two copies of the variant gene—one from each parent. This also means that, depending on the genetic make-up of individual bears, a black female may give birth to white offspring, or even one black and one white, and white mothers can give birth to black cubs.

Interestingly, a variant in the same gene in humans is present in people with red hair and freckles and who tan easily.

The Great Bear Rainforest has been described as one of the world's largest remaining tracts of unspoiled temperate rainforest. In February 2016, after a decade of negotiations, the British Columbia government announced a deal to protect 85% of … — The Great Bear Rainforest has been described as one of the world's largest remaining tracts of unspoiled temperate rainforest. In February 2016, after a decade of negotiations, the British Columbia government announced a deal to protect 85% of the rainforest from commercial logging. On March 1, 2016, as part of the compromise, the provincial government assured timber companies that for the next 10 years they would be allowed to harvest 2.5 million cubic meters of wood each year (down from 4 million a decade ago) under "strict, ecosytem-based management rules."

Kermode bears have been known to catch and feast on as many as 80 salmon in one session. Five species of Pacific salmon spawn in the streams of the Great Bear Rainforest. (photo by Jenny Varley) — Kermode bears have been known to catch and feast on as many as 80 salmon in one session. Five species of Pacific salmon spawn in the streams of the Great Bear Rainforest. (photo by Jenny Varley)

There are a number of threats to Kermode bears. Hunting and poaching are always a danger (even though hunting white bears is banned in British Columbia, hunting black bears that carry the white gene variation is not). Falling numbers of salmon returning to the area can result in decreased survival, particularly during hibernation.

The most significant threats are man-made; habitat loss, industry (including the continued logging), and the proposed Enbridge Northern Gateway pipeline from Alberta to Kitimat, which could result in more than 200 tankers per year traversing the narrow and pristine waterways of the Great Bear Rainforest. That project suffered a setback in November of 2015, when new Canadian prime minister Justin Trudeau imposed a moratorium on tanker traffic along British Columbia's north coast, but the Calgary-based Enbridge energy-delivery corporation says it has not given up on building the pipeline.

A male spirit bear can stand almost six feet tall and weigh 500 pounds; females, such as this one, are notably smaller and usually top out at about 300 pounds. (photo by Jenny Varley) — A male spirit bear can stand almost six feet tall and weigh 500 pounds; females, such as this one, are notably smaller and usually top out at about 300 pounds. (photo by Jenny Varley)

Many thanks to Jenny for bringing us face-to-face with these rare and remarkable bears! (photo by Jenny Varley) — Many thanks to Jenny for bringing us face-to-face with these rare and remarkable bears! (photo by Jenny Varley)

On our visit to the Great Bear Rainforest, we were lucky enough to spend almost a whole day with a spirit bear and her two black cubs. One cub was very cheeky, being quite boisterous and stealing fish from Mom as she caught them. Our guide was the brilliant Marven Robinson, who, in addition to guiding, has done much to raise awareness of the dangers faced by these wonderful animals. After a day watching the mom and cubs we saw a second mother walking along the shore. A truly special day and such a privilege to see. You can find more images of these bears and other wildlife on my website, www.jennymvarley.co.uk. —Jenny Varley

Stuck at Sea In the Antarctic With A Rescued Bird, A Paintbrush and a Stowaway

December 22, 2015

At 6 a.m. we had a problem. Waves and 45-mph winds were swaying our Russian science-research ship, the Akademik Sergey Vavilov, as it cruised along the coast of South Georgia Island. Would our group of Antarctic expeditioners still go ashore by Zodiac at 7:30 a.m. as planned? Would we be able to explore yet another extraordinary part of South Georgia, the vast penguin and seal colony at Salisbury Plain?

Not on this day. The winds would soon top 50 knots (close to 60 mph), making Zodiac travel impossible. Instead, as the Vavliov searched without luck for a landing spot anywhere on South Georgia, we explored the Antarctic on board, through lectures, books, binoculars, conversations and, in Pamelia's case, art.

So close yet so far: On a day of wild waves and constantly changing weather—including sideways-blowing snow and brief explosions of sunshine—we couldn't reach the spectacular South Georgia shores in front of us. — So close yet so far: On a day of wild waves and constantly changing weather—including sideways-blowing snow and brief explosions of sunshine—we couldn't reach the spectacular South Georgia shores in front of us.

The ever-fun One Oceans Expeditions team and trip organizer/zoologist/wildlife photographer Mark Carwardine had prepared us for high-wind days with a slide show earlier in the voyage. This was one of my favorite slides.

Even in rough conditions, our cabin window afforded Pamelia a good view for photographing birds and other sights.

Having passed the Antarctic Convergence (where cold and warm ocean waters collide and the Antarctic climate and ecosystems begin) we were seeing icebergs more regularly. They glowed blue from the light hitting an exceptionally clear, dense, air… — Having passed the Antarctic Convergence (where cold and warm ocean waters collide and the Antarctic climate and ecosystems begin) we were seeing icebergs more regularly. They glowed blue from the light hitting an exceptionally clear, dense, air-bubble-less type of ice that absorbs every color of light except blue. It's air bubbles that make ice look white.

The ship brought us within sight of the abandoned Stromness whaling station. This is where the remarkable explorer Ernest Shackleton, desperate to find help for his stranded crew, arrived in May 1916 after surviving not only months with hi… — The ship brought us within sight of the abandoned Stromness whaling station. This is where the remarkable explorer Ernest Shackleton, desperate to find help for his stranded crew, arrived in May 1916 after surviving not only months with his ship locked in sea ice, but also a journey to desolate Elephant Island, an 800-mile open-water voyage to South Georgia in a lifeboat and finally a nonstop, last-ounce-of-energy crossing of the mountains shown here. We would be visiting Shackleton's grave soon.

A few hearty souls ventured onto the bow during lulls in the winds.

This stranded-at-sea day had another surprise twist: Two stowaways were on the ship. One was in a cardboard box in a gear room on a lower deck. The other was our cabin, soon to be seasick.

The stowaway in the box was a common diving petrel. The ship's ornithologist, Simon Boyes of One Ocean Expeditions, had found it during his daily check for any birds that had accidentally flown into or been blown into the Sergey Vavilov.

The petrel was not injured, just stunned. Whether he had been attracted by lights on the ship we couldn't know, but for days we had been required to darken all windows (and the ship had minimized its lights) to avoid just such an occurrence. Some of us gathered to watch as Simon released the fully revived bird—which would soon be back to its routine of diving up to 200 feet underwater to feed on crustaceans—early in the afternoon.

Simon Boyes held up the web-footed common diving petrel for all of us to see before releasing it from the side of the ship.

Just a handful of people on the Sergey Vavilov knew about the second stowaway. Pamelia and I had smuggled him on board in Ushuaia, Argentina, the day the trip began. Those who had seen him had reacted positively. "Good to know he's here," voyage organizer Mark Carwardine, the British zoologist and conservationist, had told us after meeting him. "We might call upon him if we need another after-dinner speaker one night."

The stowaway—whom One Ocean Expeditions trip leader Boris Wise referred to with a smile as "the ninety-ninth passenger"—was the fellow shown here:

Yes, Charles Darwin was on board.

Say what, you ask? History's greatest naturalist? The one who died in 1882? Well, nearly a year ago we brought Darwin back to life at The Naturalist's Notebook—see the Darwin Lives! header at the top of this page—and we have been traveling with him ever since. Taking him on this voyage made perfect sense because he had visited Tierra del Fuego and the Falkland Islands in the 1830s while aboard the Beagle and both stops had helped him gather evidence that culminated in his world-changing 1859 book, On the Origin of Species.

Charles was so excited about revisiting parts of his Beagle route that (with some coaxing from us) he even began writing Charles Darwin's Blog (click on bold letters to read) at the start of this trip.

Here's Charles Darwin with us in May 2015 at his home, Down House, in England. This is the famous Sand Walk on which he took his daily strolls with his beloved dogs back in the 1800s. Darwin called it his "thinking path." — Here's Charles Darwin with us in May 2015 at his home, Down House, in England. This is the famous Sand Walk on which he took his daily strolls with his beloved dogs back in the 1800s. Darwin called it his "thinking path."

You'll see more of Darwin before the voyage is over, but for now I'll leave you with one image that illustrates how the great but seasickness-prone adventurer was feeling on this day:

As we rested with Darwin in our cabin, Pamelia took out her paint brush and inks and began a series of time-lapse penguin paintings, which some of you have heard about. For those of you who missed it, Pamelia began sketching penguins in order to get to know and identify them better. She held her pink iPhone in her left hand and taped time-lapse movies of herself painting with her right hand, all on a swaying ship. It was amazing to watch.

She said that the phone sometimes blocked her view as she was painting.

Check out the short video above to see her king penguin time-lapse, the second in her penguin series. We'll be posting others soon. If you missed the first time-lapse (painting a chinstrap penguin), scroll down and you'll find it. Or click on this link: https://youtu.be/8_0xjyI4sr4

In our cabin, the gallery of Pamelia's penguin and Falkland Island bird studies was growing. That large study in the middle was her second time-lapse attempt at a king penguin—and still she felt that she did not get it right. But that's why you do m… — In our cabin, the gallery of Pamelia's penguin and Falkland Island bird studies was growing. That large study in the middle was her second time-lapse attempt at a king penguin—and still she felt that she did not get it right. But that's why you do multiple studies.

For fun, Pamelia and I also made a 22-second time-lapse of activity in our cabin on this day at sea, below. Darwin's even in it (sort of)!

By early evening, the weather was looking more promising. The revised expedition forecast called for at least two landings, a big dose of history and wildlife galore on South Georgia Island the next morning. We Antarctic adventurers were back on track, and even Charles Darwin was feeling better.—Craig Neff and Pamelia Markwood

Sunset over South Georgia Island.Coming next: Whaling, rat patrols, rare ducks and 10 a.m. whiskey? — Sunset over South Georgia Island.
**Coming next**: Whaling, rat patrols, rare ducks and 10 a.m. whiskey?

The Antarctic fur seal startled me by charging out from behind a clump of tussock grass. He made clear that I had ventured into his territory.

Don't Mess With a Fur Seal

December 15, 2015

Pamelia and I heard the news when we climbed out of a Zodiac onto shore at Gold Harbor on South Georgia Island. "There's a light-mantled albatross nest at the top of the hill," said one of our Antarctic expedition leaders. "If you want to come along, we're going up to take a look."

Of course I wanted to come along. Never mind that the beach was alive with tens of thousands of king penguins, southern elephant seals and predatory sea birds in a spectacular setting with two glaciers as a backdrop. They could all wait for a moment. I had to look at the nest.

I had never seen a light-mantled albatross, described by some as the most beautiful member of the albatross family. Light-mantleds are smaller than most varieties—their wingspan is 7 to 8 feet compared to the world-record 8 to 11 feet of their more famous cousins, wandering albatrosses—and their distinct coloration has been compared to that of a Siamese cat. Their light-gray eye rings almost glow against the darker feathers on their heads.

We climbed slowly toward the nest on slick mud and patches of snow.

Little did I realize when I began the ascent that the tussock grass was loaded with Antarctic fur seals...

...or how handsome those those seals look...

...or how long and sharp their teeth are.

I began trudging in the muck between large clumps of tussock grass. I had taken only a dozen steps up the hill when I heard a bellow to my left. In a flash an Antarctic fur seal was charging at me from 15 feet away. He'd been hidden by the tussock grass. He was more than a little agitated to see an intruder in his territory in breeding season.

We expedition members had been warned about this. Earlier in this journey to the Antarctic, everyone on board our ship, the Russian oceanographic vessel the Sergey Vavilov, been shown a slide of a human hand that had been chomped by a male Antarctic fur seal. The hand was bloody and mutilated. Tendons were severed. Yikes. This was not your typical welcome-to-the-Antarctic! photo, but that was the point; none of us would ever forget it. We silently swore to give Antarctic fur seals—95% of whose world population breeds on South Georgia Island—abundant room and respect.

This utterly accidental meeting was my first encounter with one. I retreated as fast as I could, slipping and stumbling as another climber slammed her ski pole on the ground and hollered to distract the seal. He stopped, watched me and in a few moments returned to his original spot in the tussock grass. Victory was his. No blood had been shed. I was rattled but relieved.

Truth is, if I were a fur seal—Antarctic or otherwise—I wouldn't look upon humans so kindly either. Consider all that we have done to them even though they're fellow mammals which used to live on land (before they adapted to their changing environment and developed fins) and whose DNA is estimated to be 80 to 85 percent the same as ours. At the sight of these all-too-handsome animals, some humans have felt the urge to hug them (bad idea) but too many others have acted upon the urge to club them and wear them as coats or boots (worse idea).

Later I learned that I was not alone in my hillside experience. At least six other fur seals had chased away members of our expedition, even though we were trying to avoid them. I now understood why some landing sites on South Georgia are closed off to visitors when larger numbers of fur seals show up in breeding season and establish their territory.

I resumed my climb, slip-sliding every other step before taking a blooper-reel splat onto my backside. It was all worth it. I caught a glimpse of the nest and spent time watching and marveling at a light-mantled albatross in flight. My afternoon was already made—and I hadn't made it yet to the wildlife extravaganza on the beach below me.

The light-mantled albatross was even more beautiful than I expected. Look at that eye!

Here's an albatross arriving at the nest.

Like all albatrosses, light-mantleds are declining in number. As with many other types, these albatrosses often get caught on the baited hooks of commercial long-line fishing boats and drown. Happily, this wasn't the last we would see of light-mantl… — Like all albatrosses, light-mantleds are declining in number. As with many other types, these albatrosses often get caught on the baited hooks of commercial long-line fishing boats and drown. Happily, this wasn't the last we would see of light-mantleds on our trip—though our next encounter with them, at a different location on South Georgia, would be in crazier conditions.

Before going down the hill I looked out over Gold Harbor at a lovely rock shag gliding in the distance. On the Zodiac ride in we had seen other sea birds, including Antarctic terns and imperial shags.

I descended to the Gold Harbor beach. Would you like to imagine yourself there for a moment? A cold, sunny November afternoon (spring here in the Southern Hemisphere) is turning grayer and the wind is picking up. Mountains and those dramatic, spilling glaciers are in front of you. You are standing on a beach relatively few humans ever see, on one of the world's most remote and remarkable islands and breeding grounds, South Georgia, the Sergengeti of Antarctic wildlife.

Pause and look out at the expanse of seals, penguins and birds before you. Are you ready? Let's explore:

Multi-ton male southern elephant seals—known as "beachmasters," ruling large swaths of the shore and "harems" of up to 100 females (see our Dec. 9 post, below) —relaxed in the sand... — Multi-ton male southern elephant seals—known as "beachmasters," ruling large swaths of the shore and "harems" of up to 100 females (*see our Dec. 9 post, below*) —relaxed in the sand...

..with one of the two Gold Harbor glaciers behind them.

Here's a closer look at the awesome mass of ice and snow and its hint of glowing blue. The well-defined rock strata bespeak South Georgia Island's deep geologic history.

The snout that gives the elephant seal its name enables a bull like this one to trumpet his deep, lion-like roar across the entire beach. It also helps him conserve moisture when breathing, an important function when the bull is on land in breeding … — The snout that gives the elephant seal its name enables a bull like this one to trumpet his deep, lion-like roar across the entire beach. It also helps him conserve moisture when breathing, an important function when the bull is on land in breeding season and can't leave the beach to feed.

This jovial-looking male had been through some battles, as you could see from the scars on his neck. He had earned his status as a beachmaster.

Males typically grow to about 16 feet—so long that the front and rear of their bodies look like separate pieces in the water. This one was a so-called "sneaker," a male who tries to sneak onto the beach and mate with a female when the beachmaster is… — Males typically grow to about 16 feet—so long that the front and rear of their bodies look like separate pieces in the water. This one was a so-called "sneaker," a male who tries to sneak onto the beach and mate with a female when the beachmaster isn't looking.

Some young elephant seals turned eroded tussock clumps into pillows.

Beachmasters, mothers, pups and weaned youngsters—called weaners—crowded together along the water.

These fearless brown birds are skuas. We watched them suddenly fly in en masse to devour what we think was the placenta of a seal pup that had just been born.

Southern giant petrels also arrived to join the feast.

Wait—who was this? A species of penguin that Pamelia and I had not seen before on this trip? Indeed, it was a gentoo penguin, one of a handful of that variety that came ashore in front of us. Gentoos are the fastest-swimming penguins (up to 22 mph u… — Wait—who was this? A species of penguin that Pamelia and I had not seen before on this trip? Indeed, it was a gentoo penguin, one of a handful of that variety that came ashore in front of us. Gentoos are the fastest-swimming penguins (up to 22 mph underwater) and have the most prominent tails. I'll save the tale of penguin tails for later.

Gentoos are a near-threatened species, but recent evidence suggests that they may be less adversely affected by climate change than certain other penguin species because they are less dependent on sea ice to survive. That is, when feeding they don't… — Gentoos are a near-threatened species, but recent evidence suggests that they may be less adversely affected by climate change than certain other penguin species because they are less dependent on sea ice to survive. That is, when feeding they don't rely as heavily on the tiny shrimp-like creatures called krill that proliferate on the underside of sea ice and form a foundation of the food chain in the Antarctic's rich waters. In fact, as sea ice has declined around the Antarctic peninsula, causing sharp drops in populations of some other penguins, gentoo numbers on the peninsula have been increasing. More on that whole story later as well.

This one may look small (and, might I add, courageous) next to massive elephant seals, but gentoos, which stand 30 inches tall, are the third-largest penguin species after four-foot-tall emperors and three-foot-tall kings.

Speaking of which, king penguins—whom we had seen by the hundreds of thousands breeding and molting just a few hours earlier at St. Andrews Bay on South Georgia (see previous post, below)—were amassed on the beach at Gold Harbor. That's our wonderfu… — Speaking of which, king penguins—whom we had seen by the hundreds of thousands breeding and molting just a few hours earlier at St. Andrews Bay on South Georgia (*see previous post, below*)—were amassed on the beach at Gold Harbor. That's our wonderful floating home, the *Sergey Vavilov*, in the background.

...Gold Harbor had a LOT of king penguins.

This king chick seemed to be wearing an oversized coat. Note the reptile-like feet, a reminder that penguins and other birds evolved from dinosaurs. In a thrilling moment for me, a different chick and an adult later approached me as I sat on the gro… — This king chick seemed to be wearing an oversized coat. Note the reptile-like feet, a reminder that penguins and other birds evolved from dinosaurs. In a thrilling moment for me, a different chick and an adult later approached me as I sat on the ground. They sniffed and pecked at my boot. Pamelia and I were again finding that if we stayed in one spot for long enough, the animals would come to us.

Skuas are predators who will feed on penguin eggs or chicks, and they made frequent reconnaissance runs over the king colony.

One king penguin chick shooed away a skua that seemed to be ominously eyeing him for lunch.

This skua was attracted to Pamelia and nearly landed on her head—no small matter for either of them, given that skuas have a four- to five-foot wingspan and weigh about 17 pounds (more than a bowling ball). Instead he plunked down on the ground just… — This skua was attracted to Pamelia and nearly landed on her head—no small matter for either of them, given that skuas have a four- to five-foot wingspan and weigh about 17 pounds (more than a bowling ball). Instead he plunked down on the ground just a few inches from her feet and, in yet another unforgettable experience, stayed there for a long time staring up at her. (Pamelia was not photographing him, by the way; she was frozen in place watching him.)

Near the end of the afternoon, a weaner fell asleep on the tarp on which our crew members had carried gear; they resisted the temptation to wrap him up and take him back to the ship.

Before too long, dark was beginning to settle in and we needed to return to the Sergey Vavilov. Over a delicious dinner that night, One Ocean Expeditions team leader Boris Wise tantalized us with the news that early the next morning we would reboard the Zodiacs and go ashore at Salisbury Plain, yet another of South Georgia Island's seemingly endless variety of astounding sites, one that would be packed with more than 100,000 animals and possibly reveal to us a rare bird called the South Georgia pipit. We might explore two other breeding grounds later in the day.

Boris did add a caveat. The winds might be picking up a bit more overnight, to, um, gale force. Gale force? Sleep tight.—Craig Neff and Pamelia Markwood

Coming next: Rough seas, icebergs, a bird rescue and the trail of Ernest Shackleton.

What an amazing afternoon in Gold Harbor!

Time-lapse Painting a Chinstrap Penguin on a Ship in the Antarctic

December 13, 2015

While in rough seas aboard the Sergey Vavilov, Pamelia began a series of time-lapse ink studies of penguins. Here is the first, of a chinstrap penguin:

"One Minute With King Penguins" (a Naturalist's Notebook video)

December 12, 2015

Some of you have asked for video of our Antarctic adventure. Here's a first glimpse:

The expanse of adult penguins and chicks at St. Andrews Bay on South Georgia Island was hard to fully absorb. It spread in every direction. (Please note that you can click on each photo in this blog and see it much larger.)

On a Beach With 200,000 King Penguins and Southern Elephant Seals

December 9, 2015

At 2 a.m., like a child on Christmas morning, Pamelia lay awake in her cabin bed, anticipating one of the most extraordinary days of our life.

Our Russian oceanographic ship, the Sergey Vavilov, had traveled 1,500 nautical miles from the bottom tip of South America to South Georgia Island, one of the most remote places and remarkable breeding grounds on Earth. Only 7,000 people set foot on this mountainous, 100-mile-long island each year. Landings must be made with inflatable Zodiacs. Tricky conditions (including gravity-pulled "katabatic" winds that roar down off South Georgia's glaciers at 60 mph) and bad timing (areas that are off-limits in key breeding months by international agreement) frequently block visitors from going ashore.

Not us. By the time a friendly 4 a.m. wakeup call came over our cabin's loudspeaker, dawn had broken on a crisp, beautiful morning: patches of blue sky, temperature 30 degrees F and the wind 17 miles per hour, a third of what it had been the previous day (scroll down for our earlier posts). We looked out and saw only a slight chop on the waters of St. Andrews Bay, the first of the day's two planned South Georgia landing sites. Game on!

The farther south we sailed, the longer the days were becoming in the Southern Hemisphere spring. At 4:30 a.m. the sun at St. Andrews Bay was already illuminating some of South Georgia's spectacular mountains. — The farther south we sailed, the longer the days were becoming in the Southern Hemisphere spring. At 4:30 a.m. the sun at St. Andrews Bay was already illuminating some of South Georgia's spectacular mountains.

As always, an early Zodiac tested the route to shore and picked a landing spot.

After a quick breakfast—not too much coffee, for we would be on shore for six hours with no bathroom options, as is nearly always the case on Antarctic and sub-Antarctic landings—Pamelia and I pulled on our many layers of winter clothing and grabbed our orange waterproof backpacks of camera gear. We headed off to take a 15-minute, wind-in-our-faces, cheek-burning Zodiac ride to the wildest shoreline we've ever seen.

Ten to 12 expeditioners climbed into each Zodiac...

...and off we zoomed toward a shore where we human adventurers would be outnumbered at least 2,000 to one—2,000 to one!—by king penguins and southern elephant seals.

Our new Swedish friend Eva Westerholm, a former pro soccer player and a cornerstone of the excellent and international One Oceans Expedition team, commanded the Zodiac and filled us in on what to do when we landed. — Our new Swedish friend Eva Westerholm, a former pro soccer player and a cornerstone of the excellent and international One Oceans Expedition team, commanded the Zodiac and filled us in on what to do when we landed.

Each of those tiny dots was a king penguin or a southern elephant seal. You can also see a few penguins swimming and dolphining in the foreground. We always think of penguins endearingly waddling on land, but these flightless birds spend three-… — Each of those tiny dots was a king penguin or a southern elephant seal. You can also see a few penguins swimming and dolphining in the foreground. We always think of penguins endearingly waddling on land, but these flightless birds spend three-quarters of their lives in their primary home, the water—their wings have effectively evolved into flippers—and they're agile, acrobatic swimmers. King penguins can dive 1,000 feet and stay submerged for five minutes while feeding on small fish and squid. They're amazing animals.

Hundreds of the king penguins seemed eager to welcome us at the landing site.

We saw more of them swimming, heard their loud chatter and whiffed the tangy smell of penguin guano as we neared shore.

"Don't panic. Stop for a few minutes to absorb the scene around you. Take your time. Then pick one animal or a small group. Concentrate on watching them for a while."

One of the trip leaders had offered those words of advice for our landing at St. Andrews. He knew how electrifying and overwhelming the up-close-and-personal sight of 200,000 penguins and seals can be, especially for nature lovers who have cameras in their hands and are eager to shoot photos, as nearly all of us were.

The words echoed in my head as I swung my legs over the side of the Zodiac, plunked into the shin-deep 34-degree water, waded ashore in my rubber boots and entered a world that was...electrifying and overwhelming.

For the next six hours, we were wide awake to life. In a spectacular setting ringed by snowy mountains and the rapidly retreating Ross glacier (hello, climate change), with a sparkling bay in front of us and the sky constantly changing, Pamelia, I and our 90-odd fellow expeditioners wandered among, photographed and studied these fascinating animals. We watched dramas unfold—predatory birds called skuas coming after penguin chicks, male elephant seals doing battle with each other, sometimes bloodily, penguin chicks pestering their mothers for food until the moms gave in and disgorged a mouthful into the chicks' bills.

March of the Penguins? This wasn't the same species as in that wonderful documentary, but the king penguins were marching everywhere we looked on the two-mile curve of beach.

The penguins mingled among us, unperturbed by our presence and often eager to approach us for a closer look

As their name suggests, king penguins are among the most regal-looking of the world's 18 penguin species. At three feet tall and about 40 pounds, they are second in size only to four-foot-tall, up-to-100-pound emperor penguins, which live on the Ant… — As their name suggests, king penguins are among the most regal-looking of the world's 18 penguin species. At three feet tall and about 40 pounds, they are second in size only to four-foot-tall, up-to-100-pound emperor penguins, which live on the Antarctic continent (and were the subject of *March of the Penguins*).

Eight-month-old chicks often followed their mothers around begging to be fed. Quite a few of the mothers were still out at sea gathering food.

The birds communicated in ways we couldn't always understand. Many of the chicks gathered in groups called creches that were overseen by a small number of adults.

The beach was carpeted with feathers—many of the adult penguins were molting—and adorned with white, yellow and green squirt-blotches of penguin guano. It also was littered with the remnants of dead penguin chicks and sea birds. Some of the chicks may have succumbed to the long Antarctic winter that had just ended; others might have fallen to one of the skuas that were gliding just overhead and wandering the grounds looking for feeding opportunities.

The chicks' fluffy brown coats gave them an adorably comical look but weren't waterproof, so the chicks couldn't go into the ocean. The coats will fall off through molting a few months from now and the young penguins will head to sea.

Many of the adult king penguins were already molting. With their feathers falling out they, like the chicks, weren't waterproof and couldn't go into the ocean to feed. Instead they remained on shore, staying as still as possible to avoid w… — Many of the adult king penguins were already molting. With their feathers falling out they, like the chicks, weren't waterproof and couldn't go into the ocean to feed. Instead they remained on shore, staying as still as possible to avoid wasting energy. Note the angled-up feet: King penguins (like the emperors in *March of the Penguins*) cradle their egg atop their feet to keep it warm and dry. They frequently stand in this tilted-back posture even without an egg, as was the case here.

The molting process wasn't always pretty.

The penguins' seemingly headless poses made for fun photos.

A resting chick showed us the underside of its leathery, ground-gripping feet, which didn't look so different from our winter gloves.

Some of the penguins went off to frolic on a snowy hillside at the back of the beach.

Many thousands of them gathered along, and swam in, a runoff stream from the retreating glacier. Yes, that's snow falling. Squalls moved in, typical of the constantly changing weather in this part of the world.

King penguins can live 15 to 20 years in the wild, or not make it past a few months as a chick at St. Andrews.

The skuas were a constant reminder of the threat to penguin chicks.

As were the southern giant petrels (wingspan up to seven feet), a species we would see often in the days ahead (sometimes pulling at a penguin or seal carcass). That tube atop the bill is for excreting salt from the ocean water it drinks, an evoluti… — As were the southern giant petrels (wingspan up to seven feet), a species we would see often in the days ahead (sometimes pulling at a penguin or seal carcass). That tube atop the bill is for excreting salt from the ocean water it drinks, an evolutionary feature that other seabirds share, though not always so prominently.

This curious elephant seal pup stared, sniffed and grunted at a dead giant petrel for several minutes.. — This curious elephant seal pup stared, sniffed and grunted at a dead giant petrel for several minutes..

Because the beach was so large, we all were all able to explore different scenes and animals that caught our interest. As was evident from photos we saw later, each of us experienced St. Andrews slightly differently. Pamelia plunked herself down in a few spots and had long stretches with individual penguins and elephant seal pups. I roamed more widely.

Many of us followed the photographic advice given to us a couple of days earlier by trip organizer Mark Carwardine, the great wildlife photographer and zoologist. He said to drop to the ground for shots and see the animals at their level. Having a dirty jacket and pants from doing that became a badge of honor throughout the Antarctic trip.

Pamelia was one of the many ground-based shooters.

This chick became particularly fond of her—or at least her boot.

This elephant seal pup wiggled his way more than 20 feet to get within an arm's length of Pamelia as she sat on the ground. The two stared into each other's eyes for several minutes—a pair of mammal cousins from different species and parts of the pl… — This elephant seal pup wiggled his way more than 20 feet to get within an arm's length of Pamelia as she sat on the ground. The two stared into each other's eyes for several minutes—a pair of mammal cousins from different species and parts of the planet connecting in a way Pamelia will never forget. I should note that at this time in the pups' lives, their mothers have left them to fend for themselves. The pups haven't realized yet that their mothers aren't returning, and seem to crave companionship.

Among those taking in the action in our group of expeditioners was award-winning wildlife filmmaker Peter Bassett (far left), one of David Attenborough's former BBC producers, who was shooting footage throughout the trip.

The penguins and seals coexisted comfortably...

...though the undisputed bosses of the beach were the roaring "beachmaster" male elephant seals. Each weighed between 5,000 and 9,000 pounds—southern elephant seal bulls are easily the heaviest carnivorous mammals on the planet—and ruled a "harem" o… — ...though the undisputed bosses of the beach were the roaring "beachmaster" male elephant seals. Each weighed between 5,000 and 9,000 pounds—southern elephant seal bulls are easily the heaviest carnivorous mammals on the planet—and ruled a "harem" of up to 100 far smaller females, which weighed one-fifth as much. The beachmasters fiercely defended their turf against other males who tried to sneak in and mate with harem members. Check out all the fight scars on this guy's neck and chest.

This was a typical example of mouth-to-mouth combat. The beachmaster always won.

By contrast, the weaned seal pups—called weaners—were playful...

Some pups were still nursing. They would be doubling and tripling and quadrupling in size in a matter of days on milk that is more than 50 percent milk fat, compared to four percent for human mothers' milk. (The mothers can end up losing hundreds of… — Some pups were still nursing. They would be doubling and tripling and quadrupling in size in a matter of days on milk that is more than 50 percent milk fat, compared to four percent for human mothers' milk. (The mothers can end up losing hundreds of pounds during nursing.)

Nearly all of the seals seemed content to lounge around in the 30-degree sunshine.

Though it was easy to chuckle at the southern elephant seals' loud and frequent vocalizations—most of which sounded like embarrassing human bodily functions—it was sobering to recall that humans hunted them to near-extinction in the 19th century. Th… — Though it was easy to chuckle at the southern elephant seals' loud and frequent vocalizations—most of which sounded like embarrassing human bodily functions—it was sobering to recall that humans hunted them to near-extinction in the 19th century. Their numbers are starting to fall again, for reasons that aren't entirely clear. These majestic animals regularly dive more than half a mile underwater (sometimes more than a mile) and stay submerged for more than 20 minutes when hunting for fish and squid. We looked forward to seeing and studying more of them in the days ahead.

As we neared the six-hour mark, we wended our way carefully around resting beachmaster seals and back to the Zodiacs. The Sergey Vavilov had to move on to our afternoon landing spot on South Georgia, a seal, penguin and albatross breeding site called Gold Harbor. The photos here scarcely do justice to what we had just experienced. We left feeling awed and humbled by the extraordinary animals and the dramatic landscape, which only one in a million humans will ever get to see.

And we weren't even halfway through this astounding day. —Craig Neff and Pamelia Markwood

It was hail and farewell to this colony of kings, but our penguin experiences were only beginning to unfold.

Coming next: Glaciers, Gold and why you shouldn't get too close to a male fur seal...

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