Penguins on parade

MANILA, Philippines - After our hefty lunch at the Cuckoo restaurant in Olinda, we took a welcome nap during the two-hour drive south to Phillip Island, for our chance to get up close but not too personal with some of Australia’s wildlife.

The Koala Conservation Center seeks to protect the koala population of Phillip Island. Two elevated treetop boardwalks allow visitors to get up close to these cuddly marsupials – no, they are not bears, and they certainly do not get involved in electoral fraud – with the caveat, of course, that these are wild animals, no matter how cute and calm they may seem.

Originally established in 1991, the center got a facelift and new facilities and re-opened late last year. About half of Phillip Island’s population of 100 wild koalas live in the center’s six hectares of bushland, which is also home to an assortment of wallabies, possums, echidnas, birds and… snakes! The center does crucial research and conservation work and plays a vital role in saving the island’s koala population.

Maybe wild isn’t the right word to describe our next destination, but Amaze’n Things is like a giant puzzle box with endless opportunities for play. Find your way through a mirrored maze, cut people down to size in the shrinking room, serve your best friend’s head on a platter, and go up the down slope – or is it down the up slope? – in a bizarre world that kids of any age will enjoy.

I’m really sorry we missed the chocolate factory – especially since they promised free samples – but we had to move along to the tip of the island for the main attraction: the penguin parade.

The Summerlands Peninsula at the southwestern tip of Phillip Island is home to about 60,000 little penguins, also called fairy penguins. Each night at dusk, hundreds, sometimes over a thousand, of these little (they grow up to 16 inches and weigh up to a kilo) seabirds some ashore with the tide from the Bass Strait and march across the beach to the sand dunes where they have their burrows.

The Penguin Parade began in the 1920s when two enterprising residents organized nightly viewings. The unregulated increase in visitors sadly resulted in destruction of the penguins’ habitat and consequent decrease in population. The state government stepped in in 1955, and since then regulated tourism has allowed millions of visitors to enjoy this amazing experience while protecting the penguin residents and the areas where they have established their colonies.

We bundled up as best we could and took our places on the viewing platform fronting the beach. Low lights enabled us to see, but just barely. Strictly no photography, no cell phones, and no talking – the walk across the beach was a frightening enough experience for the little creatures, we were told, so gawking tourists should try not to make it any worse.

The penguins don’t come ashore on any schedule; you sit and wait – and shiver. We spied one little guy hiding among some vegetation on the beach, an early bird probably waiting for his friends to come ashore – they do so in groups to have some protection against predators.

A few penguins emerge from the surf, and then begin the march up the beach, alongside the boardwalk lined with tourists oohing and aching at how little and cute they are. Then suddenly a sight that even our guide admitted he hadn’t seen in all the years he’d been coming to Phillip Island – over a hundred penguins appeared on the beach, a huge throng of slate blue critters resting for a moment on the edge of the water, and then slowly, slowly but steadily in their inimitable penguin waddle, began the march in, each bird knowing exactly where to go, where their burrows – and their chicks – were. Each night they return to their burrows to feed their chicks after a day’s hunt in the waters for small fish and squid.

Penguins are monogamous and remain faithful to their partners for years. They begin building their nests from May to July. Mating season is in the third quarter of the year, and they lay their eggs (two at a time) soon after. Penguins live in nesting colonies spread out over a wide area of one shore, and are also faithful to their nesting sites, returning year after year.

At dawn the next day or maybe the day after, they make the reverse march back out to sea to hunt for food, and at dusk, they return unerringly to this beach, unmindful of the crowds of excited humans marveling at this nightly ritual that they have undertaken countless times.