The Island of the Fairy Penguins

                                                  

     On our second evening in Melbourne, Australia, Al and I joined a group of people for a visit to Phillip Island where we would be able to view the amazing sight of fairy penguins coming ashore to feed their young.  As we drove around the island, our guide pointed out several small creatures feeding on the native grasses. They were wallabies, cousins to the kangaroo, tinier, somewhat darker in color, but still very much resembling kangaroos. The driver turned our bus onto a dirt road, rumbling along sand dunes which overlooked the Tasman Sea until we reached the Phillip Island Nature Park.

     Our group walked on a narrow, raised boardwalk to a viewing area with bleachers just above the beach where the penguins would be coming up out of the ocean after a day of feeding. They would wait until the sun went down in order to be protected from predators, then swim ashore and waddle in large groups over the rocky beach, through brush and over sand dunes and other obstacles to find their individual burrows.

     Picture-taking of the penguins was prohibited in order to protect their eyes, which could easily be damaged when exposed to the flash of hundreds of cameras every evening. The first sighting of the little birds was exciting, as about fifty of them came out of the ocean and began walking upright in a single file line towards the shore. They were followed by wave after wave of penguins—nearly thirteen hundred had been counted the previous evening.

     Al and I stood on the boardwalk as they walked on paths underneath and alongside of us. The night air was filled with the loud symphony of sounds coming from every direction. Every so often, an adult would stop and listen, trying to hear the distinctive calls of its young, who had been hungrily waiting for dad and mom’s return all day long, and then head off the path in the direction of that call.

    We were able to witness many happy reunions between the penguin babies and their parents, even spying in on some feedings when an adult would hold its baby in a big flipper hug, regurgitating fish into the baby’s beak. Early the next morning, the parents would return to the ocean and the whole process would be repeated...a laborious job for several weeks until the chicks were ready to leave their burrows and live in the ocean.

      How did the young penguins recognize the calls of their own parents and vice versa? By communicating from the time they were newly hatched. It was of utmost importance that they could identify each other, a life and death matter. The strong bond between them was touching.

      More about our trip ‘down under’ in coming weeks; however, seeing the penguins in their natural habitat was definitely a highlight. Perhaps they can teach us lessons on sacrificial and selfless love for our children… and also on listening, not only to those around us but also to God as He speaks to us during the day and in the night hours too.  May our spiritual ears be open to hearing His voice and may we be prompt in responding to Him when He calls. He loves us!

“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I. Send me!’ ” Isaiah 6:8 NIV