While in South Africa, we visited a colony of Jackass Penguins near Simons Town, south of Cape Town. Here are some informal reflections on the nature of penguins occasioned by this brief but eminently hospitable visit to their colony.
Penguins just look silly. They waddle. As though they were corpulent and ungainly. They are not corpulent. They just forgot to have long legs. Or long arms. Yes, having flippers instead of arms is a bit silly, too, but forgiveable, seeing that they get busy a lot in water. But the short legs bit is the real issue, and the flippers busily pinwheeling for balance as they waddle is certainly not helping matters.
Another problem is that the SEEM so serious. If they pitched about drunkenly as they waddled, or stared stolidly straight forward as they scooted forward, that would seem a bit more in keeping with the waddle. But they look about them as they travel, peering interestedly and intelligently at their surroundings. As they waddle.
When they totter up to you, they lift their faces to you so earnestly. They tilt their heads thoughtfully, as if straining to penetrate the deep mystery of your tall upright stance. Their eyes lazily wink, as if the mystery were curious, but not of immediate personal interest. They are friendly, but graciously unwilling to intrude.
And then, again, off they go, waddling.
They never seem lazy. In repose, they have dignity, standing straight upgright, or resting comfortably on their bellies. When standing, they keep glancing about, alert, casually monitoring their surroundings.
And then, suddenly, they busily toddle off, rocking side to side, blithely shedding any residual dignity they might have accumulated while formally posing in aspects of high diplomatic solemnity.
Boulders And Penguins
We had already visited the penguins, and had been quite satisfied, but then returned for a second visit to Penguin Colony because Monika Suisse had missed them, arriving late from Switzerland. We intended simply to graciously accompany Monika Suisse, having already seen penguins. But it turned out the return visit was glorious and surprising. Because there was no crowd, and we gained access to the bathing beach section. The giant watery boulders section. With insanely beautiful beach sand.
And though the initial part of the beach was pretty crowded [not at all packed, but well-populated], a secret crawling passage beneath giant boulders opened out on an entirely new section of beach… SWARMING with lazy penguins. Scramble over a few boulders, and you are among clots sleeping near warm reflecting rocks. From time to time a penguin will appear from under the boulders, amble across your path, energetically off on some mysterious appointment.
I stood in a clear pool, feet in white sand, the sound of surging water pushing its way through massed dark brown kelp between the stacked, tumbled, and massive granite boulders behind me. And three penguins, suddenly noticing me, rose from lolling on their bellies, and marched right up to the water’s edge, paddled their feet in preparation, then plunged out into the shallow water to inspect me more closely. Gliding along gracefully, paddling like ducks, they came and peered at my legs as if considering if they could take me down at the ankles.
Another penguin appeared on a high boulder, some eight feet above the sand. He seemed perplexed. He scampered to one end of the boulder, only to peer down doubtfully at the eight-foot drop to the sand. He began to ease slightly down the slippery granite… immediately thought better of the project, then scrambled energetically back up the rock.
He once again stared down, then ambled along to the other end of the boulder, leapt perilously to another prominences, and arriving at the other end of the huge granite boulder, gazed down with equal discomfort at the drop from that end of the rock. This sequence was repeated, over and over again, gathering a great crowd of concerned bathers, including a local uniformed naturalist. Much speculation was sahared about how the penguin got into this predicament, and many agreed he’d arrived there at high tide, and that he’d be best waiting another three hours for the next high tide. All this time, the forlorn penguin continued to shuttle back and forth, often ALMOST taking the jump [it looked like the water below was deep enough. if he shallow-dived], then scrambling back when his nerve failed.
At last, he noticed another penguin paddling about the water below him, and he seemed to lean a bit too far forward to look down… and found himself suddenly skidding down on his ass off the rock. He plunged most ungracefully, but bottom-first, feet scrabbling industriously, resulting in a clownish but ultimately perfectly comfortable splash landing. Then, apparently humiliated by his performance in front of so many onlookers, he zoomed underwater to a remote part of the pool to reflect on his misadventures.