Part I: Seals teeth and whales ears - Scott Polar Research Institute ...

e sure of identification in future. Their weights had shot up; I now had to use a 25 lb
spring balance. All the measurements showed a continuation of the previous high
rate of increase, including the body temperatures – as they began to achieve
homeothermy (controlled body temperatures). There appeared to be more adults
about. Several of the chicks had wandered from the rookery to be lost amongst the
nearby Adélies and some flattened black remains, well-trodden into the substrate of
vile muck, told their own story. I watched one of the parents of nest 13 chivvying its
chick back to the nest. It had wandered into a group of Adélie young four or five
yards away. The parent pecked it about the head and neck, as it dragged the
unfortunate chick, piping and struggling. Its main efforts were to escape from this
persecution and it was more by good luck than by good management that it was
harried back to the nest. The parent pecked at both chicks about head and neck; then
it pecked and nibbled at one until it lay down, when the adult mounted it for a
moment, stepped down and assumed a vacant expression. As soon as they were free
the chicks nipped off again. Crêches of four or five chicks were forming in this way -
the chicks huddled together - for warmth presumably? From these observations it
appeared that crêches are formed almost in spite of the parents.
The birds pecked at any intruder entering the territory of the nest. The mate
however responds by crowing, waving its neck sinuously from side to side and the
bird on the nest then joins in. In one case the incoming bird pushed the other off the
nest and began to feed the young. It had not come straight from the sea, but had been
standing nearby for some time - perhaps to partly digest the food? Feeding the chick
was achieved in the usual way. I was covered in guano by the time we had finished,
for the rookery was much dirtier than on our last visit and the chicks were very
muddied. A thaw added to the general squalor.
In early February we had a long day which was fairly typical of one of our better
days at Signy (by better I mean any day that wasn't blizzarding or really unpleasant).
After breakfast we launched the dory, shipped the outboard motor after heating up
the sparking plugs, and set out for the nearest penguin rookery at Gourlay Peninsula.
There was plenty of brash ice (small fragments broken off the bergs and floes) and I
had to steer carefully to avoid this, since it might hole the boat if we hit one at speed,
or at least smash the propeller. There was a long high swell sweeping onto the rocks
along the coast and a number of bergs had drifted in overnight under the influence of
an easterly wind. These must be given a wide berth as they had a nasty habit of
turning over when least expected. Arrived at the beach we were heading for, we had
a little difficulty in landing as the swell was throwing the ice about all over the place.
The dory beached, Charlie and I took our gear along to the small chinstrap colony
under study, while Derek and John went around the coast to do a seal count for me.
I had earlier ringed a sample of the penguins and we set about weighing and
measuring the growing chicks, and taking their rectal temperatures (to study the
development of body temperature regulation). Then we had to get back to base by 3
o’clock for the meteorological observation and radio schedule, so we all piled into the
dory and headed for home. The wind had changed slightly so there was less brash to
worry about.
Two days later, in Elephant Flats, I saw a young tern with buffy dorsal plumage,
incomplete cap, and very dark legs, which I thought must be one of the season's
chicks. The wings were rounded at the ends rather like a partridge's; it flew more
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