Post the Nineteenth

It's a Sunday afternoon, I have the day off, and I have no plans.  Well I did have plans - quite excellent ones - but they fell through like a safe on rotten floorboards.

So what can a poor lad like myself do with the afternoon?  How about... write a blog post!

Brilliant idea!



This time I have no exciting adventure to relate, nor tale of derring-do to share.  Nope.

What I do have, however, is a small-ish collection of photographs that may perchance excite your interest, but which I have not been able to squeeze into any previous posts.  If you're a friend on Facebook you've likely seen many of these already.  Too bad.  Look at them again anyway.

Let's begin then with that oft discussed but little seen phenomenon at Davis - snow.

I'm dreamin' of a white Davis...

You're probably aware that, despite the fact that around 3/4 of the world's fresh water is locked up in Antarctic ice, precipitation is very rare.  The continent is in fact the world's largest desert.  (Ha!  Take that, you sissy Sahara lovers!)

There are regions of the coast that get reasonably high snowfall, but the Vestfold Hills (wherein sits Davis) are not among them.  In fact, for the very low precipitation levels Davis has garnered the nickname "The Riviera of the South."

During the voyage we were given a meteorological presentation in which it was shown that during summer it almost never snows here.  Never.

So...  what on earth is this?

Dandruff of the Ice Giants.

Yes-indeedy-do, on two separate days here in the same week, it snowed.  Snowed, mark you!


Here is a shot of the stuff falling, taken from the back door to the LQ.

Bee-ute-iful

It snowed quite heavily on this occasion, but the sunny days leading up to it, with their above-zero-degree temperatures meant that the ground was too warm for it to settle properly.  For the most part it melted away like good judgment after 6 standard drinks.

Again from the back door to the LQ is this one, showing the SAM (home-sweetish-home).

Walkin' through a summer wonderland...

So there you have it.  Snow.  Wheeee!  And to all those who wished me a white Christmas, that's about as white as it got.  Geez people, you might have wished a bit harder.  C'mon!  Not even enough there for a snowmouse, let alone a snowman.


Ah, but enough on that.  What we really want to see is wildlife, right?  Right.

I'm sure many of the longer term readers of this blog are well aware of my travails in attempting to get photographs of the local wildlife.  Only too well you know of the occasions when I tromped around in this unforgiving environment, putting my life at risk in order to get that one photo to make it all worthwhile.  And failing.

How often then did the wildlife come to me on station, seemingly in order to make a mockery of my efforts?  Pretty much every time after I'd headed out in search of it, that's how often.

My lesson is learnt.  I know only too well no that the mountain will come to Mohammed, and Mohammed need only wait.

Shall we being with this Adelie penguin?  Oh yes, let's!

Hi!

Adelies are found all around Antarctica, and there are numerous colonies in the Vestfold Hills area.  There are none in the vicinity of Davis itself, but they certainly pay us regular visits in significant numbers.  You can't look out of the mess windows without seeing at least one of the little blighters wandering around.

And I swear, they have such an amusing way of walking, you almost feel they need their own theme music.

'sup?

This particular specimen put in an appearance while I was shooting on location for Santarctica - The Christmas Special.  Quite fortuitous really, since it gave Swim-Swim a look in with another (read: real) penguin; something he had been clamouring for.

Many Antarctic species of penguin are quite inquisitive on the land, since they have no land-based predators.  And this little unit was no different.  Without getting too close it was pretty keen to give us the once over.

Another species of penguin that lives this far south, although not in nearly the same numbers, is the frightfully impressive Emperor penguin. 

There are no colonies in the vicinity of the Vestfolds at all, although readers of Post the Thirteenth will be aware that there is a colony at Amanda Bay, not far from the Chinese and Russian stations.  That's the photo that looks like a brownish-grey smear on a wedding cake.  (Not for nothing have my skills as a wildlife photographer gained international renown.)  Nice.

However!  Occasionally we get visitors.  One was spotted on the road near the Met Building (post 16-and-a-half).  This one, also a juvenile, was much more adventurous.  It had scrambled all the way to the top of the antenna hill in order to... uh... do something.  Mostly it seemed to want to just stand around.  Teenagers, eh?

Not actually perched

This photo is misleading.  Your highly trained photographer managed to make it look as though it was perched on these wires.  Intentionally, I assure you.  *cough*

I approached this chap (or chappess) very slowly so as not to alarm it.  Evidently I was successful, as it appears to have been alert, not alarmed.   Periodically I would stop and get a photo at full zoom, such as this one:

Sitting on the loo, apparently.

  

 And this one, which didn't need as much of a zoom.

Dude!

You are permitted to approach within 5 metres of a non-moulting or non-breeding bird, but I really didn't think I needed to disturb this one at all.  I reckon I got to within 20 metres and that was close enough.  That's what God invented zoom lenses for, anyway.

Gnarly

And it didn't seem too disturbed.  Just stood there and did its thing.  Swim-Swim wanted to name it 'Stand-Stand' in honour of its apparently favourite activity.  *shrug*  Fair enough.

See ya, Stand-Stand.  Nice to make your acquaintance.

 Just for kicks I swung around and got this penguin's-eye view of the station.  Hey, my threshhold for kicks is pretty bloody low, I admit it.

Perth?  Adelaide?  London?

Finally, for your entertainment and amusement I give you:

Elephant seals! 

Chums

I can unequivocally say that these are males, because it is only the males who come here to rest before... going off and doing whatever it is they do.  The mostly seem to be juveniles also, since they don't possess the distinctive snout of the full-grown bull.

These two didn't just come to the vicinity of the station.  O no, this pair of handsome fellows waltzed (metaphorically, of course) right into the centre of the station.  Right up to the SAM, in fact, meaning that people approaching and leaving SAM had to detour around them.

Untroubled

And yet they didn't seem to care.  Can't think why.

In the early 90s an expeditioner at Macquarie Island was scalped by a big bull.  Admittedly he was interfering with it at the time, trying to tag it, but still.  You only need to hear a story like that once to recognise that it's best to stay out of these guys' personal space. 

There's another reason to give them a wide berth.  And stay upwind if at all possible.

Stench

They stink.  Absolutely reek.  And this was only a pair of them.  Later in the summer they evidently gather in much larger numbers.  The pong then must be so great as to peel the paint off the rocks. 

So cuuuute

And it must be said, even before they attain the full blown ugliness of maturity, these boys are no oil paintings.  So many seals are quite attractive in an anthropomorphic sense, but not this lot.  They can stop a clock at 40 paces.  (Or 40 belly wobbles, their preferred method of transport).

Bye!

  

So with my senses fully assaulted, I felt it was time to leave these two to their resting/belching/yawning/farting/whatever.  Doubtless we will see many, many more as the days pass. 

Til next time, then!