Photo Finish Friday - A Lonely Stretch Of Penguin

This stretch of Argentine beach at Punta Norte is for penguins only.
Despite the lonely look, there are several hundred Magellan penguins lined up along the water and many more in their burrows on the hillside

A Moment With The Albatross

I’ve wanted to see an albatross since we read The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere by Samuel Taylor Coleridge back in school.
I’ve seen them on nature programs but all it did was sharpen my desire to see them in their natural habitat at the bottom of the world.

Listen, Stranger! Mist and Snow,
And it grew wond'rous cauld:
And Ice mast-high came floating by
As green as Emerauld.

At length did cross an Albatross,
Thorough the Fog it came;
And an it were a Christian Soul,
We hail'd it in God's name.

And a good south wind sprung up behind,

The Albatross did follow;

And every day for food or play

Came to the Marinere's hollo!

It wasn't quite the land of mist and snow, but it was a few hours away from Cape Horn when they joined us and it was cold and misty. That's good enough for me.
We saw several varieties of the bird and we had them around for several days during the cruise. We watched them glide along the surface of the water and occasionally go through a swell and come out the other side of it seemingly unaffected.
It was a great joy to have these seabirds accompany us on our journey.

... italicized material from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Sea Lions in the Sun

Sea lions bask in the hot midday sun on an Argentine beach.

A loner.

Enjoying the sea air.


We went on several side trips during our cruise and made sure to see as much sea life as we could find. These happy critters looked like they were enjoying their day at the beach.
Our port was Puerto Madryn and this is from Punta Norte.

A Morning Stroll

Two Gentoo penguins make their way to a second colony a few hundred metres away. Penguins have the right of way. If they want to cross your path, you stop and wait.


We saw two colonies of Gentoo penguins in the Falklands.There seems to be a lot of visiting going on. The colonies were only a few hundred metres apart and it made for a lovely waddle for human and penguin alike.

The Falkland Islands are windswept and haunting. Trees cannot grow there, though there is a fair bit of scrub brush. There are no native mammals so the imported sheep have the run of the place.
Getting to the penguins meant bone-jarring 4 x4 rides over private land long since chopped up by said 4 x 4s. The rule was get in, brace yourself, and hang on.

Some 3,000 people live on the Falklands with 2,500 or so of them in the capital, Port Stanley. The rest are scattered about the islands. I wanted to get a photo of a typical farm, but the road a narrow, two-lane gravel affair, was much too rough.
Here's a view along the harbor. Note the walkway along the waterfront.

Gratitude Monday - The Sunset at the End of the World

Sailing into the sunset on our way from the Falklands to Argentina.

I am grateful to have seen this sight.

I loved being on the open ocean. It was broad and empty and quiet. Such places let one expand in mind and provide the room to think and grow.

Rushing humanity with its attendant quest for constant contact is rendered moot and seen for what it is, fundamentally absurd.

It is a simple sunset at the bottom of the world, and it is incomparable.

Photo Finish Friday -- Let's Go To The Hop

We visited a colony of 300 breeding pairs of Rockhopper penguins.
They lived on a cliffside on the scary edge of the Falklands.
Rockhoppers get their name because they hop up the rocks from the water to get to their nests.
As you can tell there were plenty of young ones in the colony.
Penguins are curious creatures and will walk right up to should you stand still. Please note, in the Falklands as well as other penguin areas, the penguins have the right- of- way.

The Rockhopper in profile.

The cliff they climb.

In fairness there is a much easier route with a gentle incline, but this pic gives a better idea of how far up they hop to get to their nests.

Cow Surfing

I’m both tired and rested and I have many a grand tale to tell.
I spent a Gratitude Monday ((19 Jan.)on a ranch in Uruguay. Wine, beer, and barbecue. Uruguay has a strong French influence and it shows in the wine. I had a Tannat that was magnificent.
I followed with the Cabernet Sauvignon which was fine. If I’d had it before the Tannat I’m sure I would have raved about it, but the Tannat is that good. So good that the white I had after the Cabernet was vile.
The beer I had to start with was really good, too.
We rode in a hay wagon in the blistering heat. We could milk a cow and go for horseback ride and we watched a gaucho show and ate and ate and ate.
Any other time the fact that I ate sweetbreads as an appetizer and liked it would have been the high water mark of the day. Barbecued pancreas is tasty.
It was a wonderful day spent in fine company, but by far the most memorable event of the day was cow surfing.
Okay, I have no idea what it’s really called. Guests sat down on a dried cowhide and grabbed on to a long line of leather attached to the gaucho’s saddle. We hooked our feet in said strap and hung on for dear life as we were hauled around the pasture.
Rule No. 1: Keep your mouth closed.
Canadian readers will recognize the eerie similarity to riding a banana skin behind a ski-doo.
It was an absolute blast.
I would love to do it again although I don’t recall ever seeing anything like it here.
I’m still recovering from the cruise and the long trip home so this will be a short post.
It’s good to be home.