Alarm: 5:30 a.m.
Body: “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Penguins: “Welcome to our office, suckers.”
We rolled into New Island (west side of the Falklands) at dawn, and the weather gods actually smiled—sunny, barely any wind, and a downright tropical 54 °F. We’re calling it bikini weather from now on.
First real test of the expedition routine: We budgeted a full hour to turn ourselves into waterproof burritos → turns out 30 minutes is plenty once you stop fighting the zippers. Mud Room → Zodiac loading was smoother than a Delta conveyor belt. Six crew members basically death-grip you into the boat. Falling in is not an option; they won’t allow it.
Landing #1 – New Island (wet landing) Hop off into calf-deep water (thank you, muck boots and waterproof pants), 15-minute ride, then a half-mile walk to the most ridiculous bird apartment complex on Earth.
Picture this:
- Rockhopper penguins – the punk-rockers of the penguin world with yellow spaghetti eyebrows. They hop up near-vertical cliffs like it’s nothing and yell at each other constantly.
- Black-browed albatross – elegant 8-foot wingspans, gliding inches over our heads. Fun fact: they mate for life and come back to the exact same nest every year since the 1800s on this very cliff.
- Imperial cormorants (a.k.a. blue-eyed shags) – glossy black birds with electric-blue eye rings that look like they’re wearing bad 80s makeup.
All three species nest literally side-by-side like the chillest neighbors ever. We had exactly one hour (only 100 people allowed at a time), so it was pure photo frenzy before we waddled back to the Zodiac.
Back on board by 8:30 a.m. (I usually don’t get out of bed before 9! → breakfast → coffee IV drip → emergency nap. Jet lag is real.
Landing #2 – West Point Island (dry landing, but evil uphill edition) This afternoons trek was a 1.5-mile hike, mostly uphill, to another albatross colony. I made it halfway before my lungs staged a coup and I flagged down the rescue jeep (no shame). Chuck powered on like a champ… until he kissed a rock and skinned his arm. Blood everywhere, but only superficial. Suddenly the entire ship knows us: “Hey, you’re the one from the medical center!” Fame at last.
Because we’re geniuses, we forgot to grab the backpack with the real cameras. So minimal frame worthy close-ups of the fluffy albatross chicks that look like Muppets. BUT I did witness (and iPhone-capture) a caracara (basically a Falklands hawk) swoop in and snatch a baby rockhopper right in front of us. Nature is metal. Circle of life, Hakuna Matata, all that jazz… still felt like I needed therapy afterward.
Highlights from West Point:
- Watching black-browed albatross couples do their goofy courtship dance—clacking beaks and bowing like they’re in a Jane Austen novel.
- Rockhoppers fussing at each other probably because they are so loud!
- Epic cliff views that make you understand why sailors used to think the world ended here.
We finished with tea and homemade cookies at a tiny local farmhouse—fresh bread, jam, and gossip from the farmers who’ve lived here their whole lives. Then both of us took the jeep back down because pride only goes so far.
Showered (again), devoured another ridiculous dinner (again), and collapsed.
Tomorrow: Port Stanley and Gypsy Cove on the east side of the Falklands. Best part? Zodiac doesn’t leave until 10 a.m. Translation: actual breakfast like civilized humans and maybe even makeup!
So yeah, expedition travel day three summary:
- Saw thousands of birds living their best lives
- Got humbled by a hill
- Chuck became a minor ship celebrity via minor bloodshed
- Learned that penguins have zero chill and albatross have all the romance
I’d apologize for the penguin spam in the photos… but I won’t. 🙂
May God bless you always!
Chuck & Lea Ann
WorldTravelReynolds 