South Georgia Ski Expedition (II)

So, as it turns out, even people who’ve only been on Amundsen a few weeks can be handed the keys to a blog, a responsibility I must have missed in the small print of the comprehensive lists, planning and induction process, but here we are.

Giant Petrel ©️ Stephen Venables

It was when we were watching a determined giant petrel barge through a huddle of fluffy brown king penguin chicks looking for a vulnerable victim that I realised I was on a break from work.  Odd that it took being in South Georgia, about 8000 miles from home, for the realisation to land. It was the reaction to what I was seeing that brought it home.  I will explain.  I am and have been for my entire career a wildlife filmmaker.  When I see animals do something interesting, my pulse races (the zoologist in me), I look to the talent wielding the camera to see whether they have clocked and are covering it (the director in me) and I hold my breath that we will have rushes to review that evening (the producer in me).  So, sitting with just a pair of binoculars and no responsibility other than to watch and enjoy what unfolds is a rare privilege, a surprising and absolute delight. 

King penguins at Salisbury Plain, with Amundsen at anchor.

My first trip to South Georgia was in the early 1990s as part of a team making a BBC series Life In The Freezer.   I was in heaven, and ever since “South Georgia” has always the answer to the question “of all the places you have been, which is your favourite?”.  Subsequent trips have always been wildlife shoots, all in summer, so this one is different.  I am here as a skier first, a wildlife enthusiast second.  So, when Stephen asked me to count the wildlife on the beach - for the South Georgia Government – as we set off to ski the Salomon Glacier, I was more than happy.  My worlds were colliding. With neither time nor tools, an accurate count of thousands of penguins is hard, but the scientist in me resurfaced and I took a series of overlapping photographs of the beaches and counted the dots later, with a glass of wine to hand.  A recount produced a roughly similar figure so, with a generous degree of variation, I landed at 9,555 gentoo penguins.  In what is a challenging time for many penguin species, as their icy world changes and their feeding grounds shift, gentoos seem to be bucking the trend: last year Stephen’s team counted just eighty gentoos at this same spot.

The east corner of Hamilton Bay in 2024 with just a few King Penguins in up at the back.

The east corner of Hamilton Bay this year, with thousands of gentoo penguins filling the whole space.

Returning to Hamilton Bay and its new colony of gentoo penguins. ©️ Stephen Venables

After various glorious skiing adventures on various glaciers reaching various cols (did Stephen write about the one where we came off the mountain two hours after dark?) and where the mountains delivered what they always promise: ice; snow of variable nature, wind, challenge, excellent skiing and, best of all unbelievable views, we had a day with the king penguins of Salisbury Plain.  This was pure indulgence.  Hours of watching adult kings returning from sea, with an absurdly full stomach and brilliant plumage gleaming in the sun.  A sneaky sleep on the beach before facing the chaos and cacophony of the colony and then, on waking, they waddle into the hubbub and start their magnificent call.  Amongst tens of thousands of apparently identical-looking birds, a parent king can hear and pinpoint its individual chick’s plaintive whistling. 

Salisbury Plain.

King Penguins creches at Salisbury Plain.

Jennifer Coombs surveying King Penguins at Salisbury Plain ©️ Martha Holmes

What I hadn’t expected to witness was the determined giant petrel selecting a live victim to attack.  A minute passed in which I thought the chick was soon to be dead, and then a “never-filmed-before” moment.  Five adult kings came out of nowhere and attacked the petrel, forcing it to abandon its still living prey.  They surrounded the chick and marshalled it away towards the already reformed huddle some metres away.  I didn’t have to look to see if had been captured on camera, I just alerted my companions to the drama.

King Penguin chick pleading for food. ©️ Stephen Venables

Blessed by the perfect combination of mountains, sea, wildlife (in the water, on the beaches, and in the sky) and truly great companions, both skiers and crew, South Georgia, retains its crown of my favourite place on Earth.  I think Emily Shackleton was right to request that her husband was buried here.

Martha Holmes