300,000 King Penguins...

Brilliant sunshine and no wind greeted us for our visit to magnificent St Andrews Bay. The weather could have been foul every day on South Georgia, but we have been very lucky to get some much of the good stuff. The temperature was a balmy 3-4C.

But, and we were warned, this was to be our wettest landing so far. The beach faces directly out into the bay and there are no suitable little nooks to protect a landing zodiac from the swell. Half the expedition staff were assigned to boat handling on the beach, so (unusually) driving the zodiacs was left to the ABs. The landing procedure was straightforward but wet - wait for a swell then catch the wave as far up the beach as possible. The next wave flooded the zodiac from the rear before we have a chance to clamber off near the bow.

Easy to get water in your Bogs at St. Andrews!

Just about everyone got off the Orion in St Andrews Bay. Some passengers hiked up to a glacier, others to a rookery, and others just strolled along the long, black sand and pebble beach.

King penguins enjoying the magnificent vista of their home.

A few elephant seals amongst the mass of penguins.

The beach is about 3-4km long, and, above the wash-line, it is wall to wall placid king penguins with the occasional grumpy fur seal and some recumbent female elephant seals. Some 150,000 penguin pairs are estimated to be on this beach! It is quite a sight.

There's not an inch to spare on the beach in front of this magnificent mountain.

That's wall to wall king penguins.

Compare the pair: elephant seal vs fur seal skulls.

There is the usual penguin activity, that is, a lot of standing around with much slapping behaviour between two members of a threesome. The air is full of the fanfare songs of the birds - can't be a mating call, too late in the season for that. There are many fat brown king penguin chicks, some in various stages of moulting in preparation for their swimming career. And one or two scrawny chicks too - it seems these are late birthers who will not have enough fat on them to survive the winter.

Chick starting to shed baby fur from the ground up.

This chick doesn't seem to be fat enough to survive the winter.

This chick is all fatted up with enough blubber to last the winter without a feed.

The kings have cute feet.

But on this beach, we have an excellent opportunity to watch, close up, the parade of penguins into and out of the water. There is a steady trickle of the birds walking, with infinite dignity and no apparent sense of urgency, to the water where they hop in and swim away to feed. (We often see them in pods swimming together 10's of kilometers out to sea.) At the same time, groups of maybe 100 return to the beach trying to get to sure. The kings are great swimmers, but in these rough conditions they prove to be relatively poor surfers, and only 2 or 3 make it in on any given wave. The rest are swirled back into the ocean. Every so often there is a wave that propels a big number onto shore. This process is not dignified - face planting seems to be a common landing, but they get up on their feet quickly. Then, walking up the beach, they flap their tiny wings furiously to dry off.

This is a seriously big group of king penguins. But in November, the same scene would have been of elephant seals.

Watching the penguins desperately trying to land, it's evident that some never seem to make it. They must succumb to exhaustion, and giant petrel scavengers squabble over them just a few meters offshore.

A pod of kings looking for the right wave to bring them to shore.

Two way traffic: some going into the water, others coming out.

It's a rather ungainly arrival at the beach.

Giant petrels (named after Saint Peter, walking on water) seem to walk purposefully around the beach, scanning left and right, no doubt looking for a penguin in trouble. When they get bored with that, they start a ponderous run and, with apparent great difficulty, fling themselves into the air.

Meanwhile, this giant petrel scans for any potential prey.

Some king penguins position themselves for a good view.

Not fine sand on St Andrews Beach.

This wonderful scene on this long, black beach all takes place before a magnificent panorama of not one but three glaciers (left to right, Cook, Buxton and Heaney), glistening in the sunshine, and Allardyce Mountains up to 2000m high. This must be one of the most glorious bays in all of South Georgia - in these conditions, for us, it certainly took the gold medal.

In a land of glaciers, this one overlooking St Andrews Bay is particularly magnificent.

Is he looking for someone's tracks?

Two king penguins studiously ignoring us visitors.

Leaving the beach was just as exciting at arriving. The staff had turned the zodiacs around and, when the swell was right, eight passengers, two by four, would wade out and rush onto the boats while the staff tried to hold them steady. Then they brave the waves to push the zodiac out, the AB starts the engine, and off we go. In the evening, the passengers gave the staff and crew an ovation for not only the long day they had put in but for their extraordinary efforts in safely handling the zodiacs at the beach.

Sunset near St Andrews.

A right Royal place for King Penguins...

Over one night the Orion crept into Royal Bay (named by James Cook in 1775) and Shaun woke us up at 4:00am for a dawn zociac ride and photoshoot of a 70,000 colony of gorgeous king penguins, at almost a metre tall, second in size only to emperor penguins. There was a fair bit of grumbling aboard because many had watched Denver win the Superbowl last night. Hot dogs were served to add to the occasion. The Hotel Manager Ian Vella had to ask for everyone to stop using their devices online, so there would be enough bandwidth to stream the broadcast without buffering.

First sunrays over Weddell Glacier, 4:00am.

The zodiac ride into a very protected beach was a little bit hairy, because we had to cross a rough bar. Erin, who drove our zodiac, handled the tricky conditions with aplomb - she's a very capable young lady. We heard from the ship's doctor Joe Rizza that a few people suffered minor injuries as their zodiacs cleared the bar returning to the Orion. Later we heard that many expeditions avoid Royal Bay because of the difficulty in landing, and we could see that in action.

Erin McFadden, not only an undersea specialist, but a very competent zodiac pilot.

Crossing the bar was tricky for the pilots and exciting for the punters.

It was a magic morning. Having seen the first rays of sunshine on the higher peaks, we disembarked the zodiacs into a rocky spit protruding into Royal Bay, and infiltrated this huge colony of the impossibly beautiful king penguins. We're told there are 30,000 pairs here, plus their children. It was sure crowded, not to mention noisy (the penguins sing this melody which sounds vaguely like a trumpet fanfare) and smelly. The guano is everywhere, and slippery.

Queued up to see us arrive?

Who are all these new orange coated penguins?

That feather colour gradation is nature's perfection.

Not a bad place for a penguin colony?

A practice lake for trainee swimmers?

Penguins reflecting on the lake.

There is a kilometer long stretch of beach totally packed with penguins, who enter and exit the water for feeding or playing according to their own timetable. The scene resembles Bondi Beach on a very hot summer's day.

Video by James Napoli.

Fresh from the surf.

Taking the plunge!

The regal demeanour of king penguins.

When the morning sun strikes, the king penguins all light up!

King penguins are a tourist photographer's dream. They don't move fast. They pose for you. Stand still and they will approach you. They interact with their colleagues, mostly slapping each other. They frequently stand in threesomes, which could well be two males competing for a lady's attention.

High density living on this rocky spit in Royal Bay.

No room for slackers at this king penguin beach.

It's a rocky path to the water's edge.

King penguins on parade at Royal Bay.

Doug Gould knows his birds.

King penguin chicks are brown and fluffy, and they need great fat reserves because they have to winter on the land without being fed by their parents. They hatch in January from eggs incubated under a parent's legs, but they don't put out to sea until after winter in September. Being so fat, they are temporarily bigger than the adults. The full cycle for King Penguins is 14 months from courtship to fledging.

King penguin chicks are brown and fluffy, and are known as "oakum boys".

King penguins threesomes are common - two males competing for a female, it seems.

There are some patches of tussock on this rocky spit, and here we find fur seals. Like they were at Godthul and elsewhere, they are grumpy and aggressive, not passive like the penguins, and will threaten you when it suits them, or when you get too close. They seem to back off with a stern word.

It's good to have a friend.

This little colony of fur seals ignored us, but others were more agressive.

Moulting kings are unhappy, and like to stand alone.

The whole bay is overlooked by the magnificent Weddell Glacier. It looks as if the glacier had pushed far enough to create the bar (i.e. a moraine), then since withdrawn back maybe 2km to its present location.

Not only a bar to cross, but a few growlers too!

Reboarding after a morning at Royal Bay.