Two days after our spectacular drive along the Great Ocean Road we made yet one excursion, this time in a different direction. Our destination was Phillip Island, famous for its colony of 60,000 Little Penguins. We half regretted our decision to purchase tickets for the penguin viewing ahead of time as the jet lag had caught up with all of us, but it turned out to be a beautiful day, and the trip well worth the effort. Again, it is a place to which we plan to return when we have more time to fully explore the areas least frequented by tourists.
Little Penguins are the smallest of the world's 17 types of penguins, and the only type to breed in Australia. From 100 to over 2000 come ashore every evening after fishing out at sea. Their reasons for returning ashore include, depending on the time of year, maintaining their burrows, breeding, feeding their chicks through regurgitation, or moulting. They stay out at sea for one day to up to four weeks at a time, and when they return, always land on the same stretch of beach shortly after the sun goes down. The little creatures follow well-worn paths to their burrows, and rely on landmarks and the calls of their mates to help guide them.
The following photo is courtesty of wikimedia:
People have been watching the penguins on Phillip Island since the 1920s, and currently more than 500,000 come annually to witness the parade. At some point the government stepped in to protect them and now tickets must be purchased in advance for the privilege of walking the boardwalks to the viewing area along with thousands of other spectators. The whole experience can feel a bit commercial, and a friend of ours questioned whether the government is exploiting the penguins. Perhaps, but it is clear I think that the penguins and their habitat were in need of protection.
On our chosen night the predicted time of arrival was a quarter past nine in the evening. Hoping to secure a front row seat we trooped down to the stands shortly after 7pm, meaning we were in for a long wait. Poor James, so thrilled at the prospect of seeing penguins, was thoroughly fed up with the whole idea long before they landed. Even now, more than two weeks later, he will tell you that he is not the least bit interested in hearing about, seeing, or watching any kind of penguin ever again. Ah well, life can be tough when you are four. The rest of us found the wait more than worth while.
The most trying aspect for me, even surpassing the crowds of people, was the ban on photography of any kind. Apparently the penguins do not appreciate having their picture taken, and I can't say that I blame them. This did not stop a surprising number of tourists from shooting away on all sorts of cameras and recording devices, and the harried park rangers more than had their hands full trying to stop the more obvious offenders (video cameras held high up in the air panning the entire beach, flash photography etc.). After watching all of our neighbors pose for pictures while they waited, I did take one picture of Cameron and Sophie down on the sand. I was so thoroughly scolded by Katie for this infraction of the rules, however, that I quickly put the lid back on the camera and kept it hidden away in my purse where it stayed for the remainder of the evening. The picture was taken long before there was any chance of disturbing a penguin, but I confess that I probably should not have done it.
Fortunately the wind was fairly moderate that evening, and we were almost comfortable in our jackets. About an hour or so into the waiting period, an Australian Fur Seal appeared to entertain us, diving, jumping and swimming to the accompaniment of oohs and ahhs from the appreciative crowd.
(Above photo also from wikimedia).
After this diversion, the second hand on the watch crept by even more slowly than before, but eventually, the first groups of penguins surfaced as promised. They swam toward shore, then let the water carry them back out to sea. In again they came in a seemingly endless cycle until the first few tentatively stepped out of the surf. We knew ahead of time that the Little Penguin is well, little, but as they began to emerge, it was a bit shocking to realize they were no bigger than the nearby sea gulls.
Their lack of stature did not appear to diminish the enthusiasm of the spectators. Predictably, just after they began arriving, James needed to visit the restroom. Inwardly groaning, I herded him back up the steps toward the boardwalk, apologizing to those whose toes were unavoidably bruised in the process. This interlude did prove to have its advantages, as I soon discovered. During the time we had been waiting at the viewing area on the beach, the chicks had emerged from their burrows inland by the hundreds and were now crying out for their dinners from beside and underneath the boardwalks. They sounded strikingly similar to hungry human babies and were cute beyond belief.
We continued to watch and listen to the penguins for an hour or so as they waddled awkwardly toward their homes. It is incredible they can go so far on land given their body shape, and it is no wonder they consume one fourth of their body weight daily in fish. We duly followed the admonitions to check under our car for penguins before backing out of our parking space (there weren't any hiding there), and within minutes of entering the car all except Ross were sound asleep.
VERY interesting !!
Posted by: janetjames | 01/17/2011 at 10:39 AM