WorldTravelReynolds

Oh my stars, y’all—today might just take the cake for the most jaw-dropping day yet.

To even get here, we had a little adventure before the adventure started. St. Andrews Bay has a tricky landing spot—sometimes a stream or meltwater blocks the path from the beach to the colony, making it impossible (or at least unwise) to wade across in our big boots. Our fearless expedition leader got out of bed at 4:30 a.m. to zodiac over alone, scout the conditions, and make sure it was safe for the rest of us. That’s dedication! When she radioed back the all-clear, I swear she sounded more excited than any of us—and who could blame her? She was about to show off half a million penguins in formal wear. I’d be bouncing too!

We finally landed at St. Andrews Bay, home to around half a million king penguins. Half a million! We thought 250,000 at Salisbury Plain was mind-boggling, but this? Holy cow—it was like every king penguin on the planet got the same group text: “Family reunion at St. Andrews—bring the kids and don’t be late!”

They stretched out forever, a living sea of black, white, and gold against those majestic snow-capped mountains and towering glaciers. God’s creation at its most spectacular—made you just stand there with your mouth open, whispering, “Well, Lord, You sure showed off on this one.”

While we were wandering around, we got a front-row seat to some serious penguin flirting. These birds don’t just pair up—they put on a full performance. The guys kick it off with that head-back trumpet call (sounds like a donkey who swallowed a kazoo) and stretch tall, flashing their glowing orange ear patches like neon “pick me” signs—penguin nightclub style, y’all.

If a lady gives the nod, they face off in a synchronized dance: bowing, bobbing, head-shaking, and dueting calls like they’re auditioning for Penguin Idol. It’s the cutest mirror routine you’ve ever seen.

They keep it classy with seasonal monogamy—one partner per breeding season, and many come back for round two next year. No drama, just good teamwork and plenty of style.

(And get this—these romantic royals can live 15–20 years in the wild, some even hitting 26 or 27. In captivity, with no predators crashing the date, they’ve reached 40+. Plenty of time for multiple seasons of penguin sweet-talking!)

The big elephant seal beachmasters were putting on their usual macho show—bellowing, chest-thumping, and flexing to see who could claim the loudest title. And the young “weaner” pups? Bless their patchy little hearts, they’re deep in the molting stage, looking like awkward teenagers who tried to give themselves a haircut with garden shears. Scruffy, uneven, and still somehow adorable.

We wandered around for a full two hours, just soaking it all in. These penguins and seals have more personality than half the folks back home! Some penguins strutted like runway models, others gave us the side-eye like we owed them money, and the seals—well, let’s just say we learned quick to step lively and stay out of their highway. They’ve got the right of way, and they know it.

Back at the ship, we collapsed into the most necessary nap of the trip—two hours of penguin-dreaming bliss after all that fresh air and footwork. Then came our favorite tea time ritual: endless pots of Earl Grey, a pile of cookies and little sandwiches that could feed a small army, and a good hour of giggling over the day’s highlights By the time we’d reminisced enough to feel human again, we were geared up and ready for round two at Gold Harbour—because why stop at half a million penguins when you can squeeze in a few thousand more?

In the afternoon, we hopped in the zodiacs for a cruise around Gold Harbour, and y’all—it was pure magic. More penguins, more seals, hanging glaciers dripping into the sea, and those gorgeous chunks of electric-blue ice floating around like God’s own modern art sculptures. Absolutely breathtaking.

Of course, the famous South Georgia “aroma” was waiting for us again—same old guano perfume we met at Salisbury Plain. We just smiled, held our breath a little longer off the zodiac, and got right back to marveling.

We’ve got two sea days ahead now as we steam toward Antarctica, skirting the infamous Drake Passage. The crew’s warned us it might get a tad sporty—praying hard for the gentle “Drake Lake” instead of the wild “Drake Shake”!

South Georgia, you’ve gone and stolen our hearts completely. Hard to believe the white continent herself is next!

May God bless you all!

Chuck & Lea Ann