The morning fog slowly dissipated as we landed in St. Andrews Bay on South Georgia Island. We were dropped off on a long sand beach surrounded by glaciers nestled below saw-toothed peaks. Meltwater streams ran down over lumpy terrain and over the feet of thousands of the kings of the penguin world.
As if being from a royal lineage, king penguins are an aloof bunch. Their bills are tilted upwards. They survey our lot on the beach as if to say, "Umph, the riff raff are here again".
Kings are dressed to the hilt, you know. If the color pattern is viewed like a piece of art, the composition is exquisite. Contrasts in colors seem to grab one's attention. Their coal black face has a brilliant rich gold comma where an ear would be (auricular patch). The gold is really yellow at the borders to contrast more with the black head. It increases to a more reddish color towards the center. The neck is a soft grayish color but to increase the contrast, the gold is bordered by a dark black line contrasting with the gray and the gold. These patterns sweep into gentle arcs. The feathers are so fine and dense that it looks as though the bird has been sculpted from finely smoothed wood.
Penguins are gregarious on land and in the water. Their heads, which are all they see of each other sticking out of the water, need to be conspicuous for recognition, so that groups may more easily identify each other and stay together. One would think that a simple bold mark would be enough. Has natural selection gone berserk, or is this colorful plumage just the prerogative of kings?
