Kate Dernocoeur

Kate Dernocoeur

Apr 092018

How can a heart not melt when amongst penguins?

Photo Credit: Alison Taggart Barone

This, my first close encounter, came January 29, 2017 on our voyage’s first foray onto the Antarctic landscape. This chinstrap penguin looking directly into the camera can’t possibly be for real…can it? I know anthropomorpholizing animals is antiquated, but, gosh, it was impossible not to attribute any number of endearing adjectives to these hardy, impressive creatures.

We had just landed on one of the Aitcho islands in the South Shetland Island group off the northwest corner of the Antarctic Peninsula. The area was mapped in 1935 (“Aitcho” stands for “H.O.” short for the Hydrographic Office of the British Admiralty). We were just on the other (south) side of Drake Passage, still far enough north for color in the landscape: brown/black mud, green moss and algae, red/pink hued penguin guano, plus the “orange penguins” (the people like me!).

Rules set up by treaty and tour companies protect these precious creatures; we were to stay 15 feet or more away from them. No one wants to cause them any more stress than their natural environment already throws at them. However, we were told, there was nothing to stop them from coming up to us. If that happened (and it often did), we should simply stop and enjoy it. For having such short legs, they got around impressively efficiently, walking (well, more like waddling) ever so purposefully, or hopping from rock to rock.

Chinstrap penguin in mud

Gentoo penguin, also in the mud

The colony was a cacophony of braying unlike anything I’d ever heard, impossible to describe adequately. Each family unit is connected by unique calls that help individuals find one another. One penguin might start it, braying with flippers outstretched and beak pointed straight up. The nearby neighbors would join in, then a dozen family units, then tens of dozens until a wave of noise washed across the colony. Sometimes, to my ears, it sounded like everyone was calling out, “I know. I know. I Know. I KNOW!”

Chinstrap penguin calling

The nests, in shallow divots lined with rocks, were half-empty and hardly used anymore by the time in the season when we arrived. A typical pastime among penguins is stealing the rocks that line the nests.

This chinstrap penguin is making off with someone else’s rock!

By the end of January, chicks were nearly the size of their parents and would soon molt, get their adult plumage, and head to sea. Meanwhile, though, they were fluffy and comical and every bit as awkward (and demanding) as teenagers anywhere.

Adult Gentoo penguin and chick

At a certain point, most of the adults head out to sea to eat, nourishing themselves and bringing back half-digested seafood ready to regurgitate into the eager mouths of their progeny.

Fewer adults on hand means increased vulnerability for the chicks, who stand in groups (known as “creches”) monitored by the adults remaining behind to keep guard. The goal: not to be picked off by a brown skua.

A brown skua, a large seabird who makes a big part of its “living” preying on penguin eggs and chicks

Battles to beat back the skuas were frequent and raucous. They are often scared off, but sometimes they hunted in pairs. While one distracted the adults on one side, the other could sneak in from behind and perhaps get away with some food.

Sharing the Aitcho beach were some elephant seals in the midst of their summer molt. A grumpy lot (molting is said to be relatively unpleasant for them), they added to the ambience with abundant grunts and groans, shifting their ponderous bodies from time to time.

I wondered what the penguins thought of our “home” as we prepared to move on to our next adventure.

More about Antarctica will come to “Generally Write” soon. Stay tuned!

Mar 052018

Some of the roughest seas of anywhere in the world belong to Drake Passage, making it one of the most iconic, must-experience journeys for anyone in love with adventure. How did I come to know about Drake Passage? I don’t remember. All I know is it has figured in my imagination seemingly forever.

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Chomolhari: Bhutan’s Goddess Mountain

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Jan 312018

The Kingdom of Bhutan in the eastern Himalaya is among the world’s few remaining mystical, magical places. Hidden from external influences until just a few years ago, the tiny landlocked nation of mostly Buddhists continues to honor its traditional ways while also trying to enter the mainstream of the 21st century, cell phones, internet, and all.

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Jan 102018

It was a nasty crash: five vehicles, one on its roof, another ripped in half. One fatality. My job was traffic control. For three and a half hours, I stood by the orange cones, waving oncoming cars forward to the detour. It was one of the busier intersections in town. Beckon forward, point, beckon forward, point.

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Nov 152017

As autumn lingers and winter waits in the wings with its icy breath, I find myself pondering time again. The trees in the hardwood forest outside my office window are still leafy, but they are late-fall dun and backdropped by a slate-grey sky. All too soon, the branches will reach up bare and stark.

Here inside, it’s time at last (after three months of preliminaries) to start over again on my first book, Streetsense: Communication, Safety and Control, initially published in 1985. The digital version has arrived from PennWell (the publisher), research is underway to update the 1996 edition, and my personal life is being reined in to focus on generating the words of a fourth edition.

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Oct 202017

In the “olden days” (that is, in my own youth…) there were these things called watches, devices one wore on the wrist so as to keep track of the time. These needed care, which means they needed to be wound up (usually daily), since their inner workings consisted of springs that gradually unwound. That chore was eventually eliminated when crystal inner workings came along, and later, solar power.

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Alaska’s Alsek River

 Adventure, Travel  Comments Off on Alaska’s Alsek River
Oct 022017

It is said that you cannot step into the same river twice. This is true. In July, 2009, I joined a group of strangers to descend the Alsek River—a remote river at the upper end of Alaska’s southeastern panhandle. In summer, 2017, the opportunity rose up: do it again? Sure thing!

Lowell Glacier 2009

Lowell Glacier 2017 on one of our clearest days!

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Sep 152017

I was walking my beautiful, sweet German shepherd dog recently, pondering our five years together. Mayzie (properly: Amazing Grace) is a petite girl who still has a lot of puppy in her: eager eyes, bouncy attitude, excitable (especially when it involves a stick or a ball).

Amazing Grace (aka “Mayzie”)

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Aug 312017

The first time I saw Denali up close, it snuck up on me. In 2009, I had done some fancy four-wheel maneuvering with my cousin Mike and a group of new friends to his gold-panning acreage 17 miles or so beyond the pavement. We were way out on Petersville Road, hilly, willow-covered, difficult country off the Parks Highway by the Trapper Creek turnoff. The town of Talkeetna is due east, but the Susitna River slices a dose of no-access-thataway between the two places, so the turn to Talkeetna off the Parks Highway is well to the south. Continue reading »

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