The one touristy excursion Kim and I took when we were in Punta Arenas was a tour of Isla Magdalena which is home to a large colony of Magallanic penguins.
We had some struggle booking the tour; I’m not sure if it was due to technical issues on the website or user error. I couldn’t find an online booking platform when I originally looked and followed some prompts to send an email, which went unanswered. The following day, I tried again and came across an actual booking platform so I tried to book us for an afternoon tour on Tuesday but there weren’t any open seats. I then looked at each date we’d be in town just to determine which options had seats. The only available choice was the Wednesday morning tour so I went ahead and booked us for that. I received the email confirmation, immediately followed with an email that the tour was cancelled due to weather. Ugh. The email said I could go to the website to reschedule for a different open tour or request a refund. By this point, we were thinking it just wasn’t meant to be, but I made one last ditch effort and replied to the email. I explained that I was having trouble booking a tour online and provided the days we were in town and available. We had been trying to plan around the days in the weather forecast showing harsher wind and rain but decided to ignore caution to the wind instead. The company responded and booked us on the afternoon tour the following day.
It couldn’t have been more perfect. It was a rare, nearly wind free day with minimal clouds and blue skies frequently making gaps in the clouds. Even the tour guides commented on how uncommon days like this were. We had a lovely hour-ish boat ride where we saw dolphins racing and playing next to the boat as we departed and then some seals poking their heads out to check us out as we neared the island. Pulling up to the island, it became clear that what appeared to be small plants all over the place were actually the penguins; they were everywhere!
We departed the boat and were told we needed to be back on board in an hour. There was one roped off walking path that led up to a lighthouse and then circled back down to the boat. This was the place we were allowed to walk. I assumed most people would book it up to the light house so we hung back in hopes of separating ourselves from the crowd. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case. The tour guides kept us all contained within 100 yards or so, likely because it was easier to keep an eye on everyone and have a better chance at catching any rule breakers trying to feed or hug the penguins.
Still, we stood back, which was easy because we were enamored with all the penguins. I noticed once all the humans had finished taking their initial pictures and moved onto the path, there was a tour guide who roped it off so we couldn’t go backward. As the other humans moved down the path and the gap between us few stragglers and them increased, Frank started coming up the path behind us, herding us forward. Frank really committed to his job, but unfortunately his heightened level of adorableness didn’t help him. He would waddle up behind us with his arms (aka flippers) out as if he is saying, “Move it along folks, gotta keep it moving forward.” Then anytime I stopped to watch him or take a picture of him, he would stop as if we were in an intense game of red-light-green-light and he wasn’t allowed to move. Then I would turn around and start walking forward and again he would follow for a bit and then freeze when I turned to look at him. Eventually the human tour guide fell back, stopping our game, and gently pressed us all forward and closer to the larger group.
Penguins covered the island. They were either in pairs or hanging out individually. We didn’t see any large groupings other than along the cliff side (I’m not sure why that was.) We made our way up to the lighthouse which provided a view of the rolling hills behind it and really showed how far the penguins were spread. On our way back down to the boat, I focused in on the sounds of the island more. There was the sporadic call of the seagulls flying around but underneath that was a dull roar of the penguins surrounding us. It was pretty incredible.
Back on the boat, we learned more about the penguins. We caught them on the tail end of their stay. As you can see in the pictures, there are feathers everywhere because they were in the process of molting to prepare for their upcoming swim. When a penguin molts, unlike other birds, they lose all their feathers at once. This is done timely, based on their migration schedule, because the new feathers provide them with a warm layer and aid in their swimming.
Within about two weeks of our visit, the over a hundred thousand penguins we saw would leave the island and swim north, to Peru where they would avoid the next three to four months of the harsh Patagonian winter. When the weather begins to warm and they are done mating and sunning themselves under the Peruvian sun, the males will return to Isla Magdalena two weeks ahead of the females, providing the ladies with some well deserved alone time. The males’ job in these two weeks is to locate and prepare their nest on the island, the same one they have used or will use for 10-15 years. The females then arrive, locate their partner, and lay their eggs (usually two) in the nest. The male and female then take turns over the next 40-ish days to protect and incubate the egg and head to the sea for food.
Once the chicks hatch, they hang around the nest, relying on protection and food from their parents for one to three months and then they make their way to the sea, now independent. Young penguins will go it solo until they are four (females) and five (males) years old at which point they will find a mating partner and join the cycle.
The end.