For those of you keeping up with us on Instagram, you’ll know that both Dad and I have photos as finalists in the New Zealand Geographic Photographer of the Year awards! I’m beyond excited to have one of my photos featured alongside the amazing work of photographers I greatly admire. And for me, it’s all the more special that both of our photos were taken on the subantarctic trip we shared earlier this year. Our adventures together are extremely precious to me, and our photographs bring the memories back in full force. Today I thought I’d share a little about my photo, while I pack and prepare for a week of fieldwork on Aotea/Great Barrier Island.
Eastern Rockhopper Penguins are in severe decline. The IUCN doesn’t list Rockhoppers as endangered, only vulnerable, because they class the two Southern species (Eastern and Western Rockhoppers) as one. There’s evidence that they are different species though, based on genetics and where they live, feed, and breed. The Rockhoppers are the smallest of all the crested penguins, standing around 50cm tall. The largest population of Eastern Rockhoppers used to be on Campbell Island, but has crashed since the 1940s. Places where penguins used to commute from sea to land can be seen where claw-marks are worn into the rocks, but the once-vast colonies are now much smaller, and some have vanished entirely.
People always comment on how comical penguins look. Which I can agree to, sometimes – particularly when they’re slipping on ice or tumbling over rocks. They’re not birds meant for the land. Most of the time I see penguins as quite serious, determined birds. They live a tough life, as small birds in a massive ocean. They’re perfectly adapted to it, having forgone flight entirely to dive deep in search of squid, krill, and fish.
Like all seabirds, penguins are suffering from our changing climate. While we don’t know the exact reason for the decline of Eastern Rockhoppers, it’s likely to be related to their food resources shifting as ocean temperatures change. This means they have to swim further in search of food while raising their chicks, and often can’t find enough food to keep both them and their chicks alive. If the number of penguins dying outweighs the number of chicks that make it to adulthood, there’s a problem. And we have a problem.
In this photo, I wanted to capture some of the character that I see in Eastern Rockhoppers. With their steady gaze, sleek beauty and strength, they seem to me very intent, resolute birds. While we zodiaced along the base of the cliffs in Musgrave Inlet, penguins were coming and going along the boulders. Some were basking in the sun. Many of them were a bit dirty, their feathers smeared with mud from crawling through the forested tangle further up the shore. These two were clean and gorgeous. I loved the interaction between their poses, as if they’re sharing a secret, or commenting to one another the strangeness of our boats full of snapping photographers. I waited for the moment when a sea-cave in the background shaded the background into straight black, and a gust of wind ruffled their yellow plumes. Serious penguins, with their grumpy down-turned gapes and sharp red eyes. They don’t know that DoC classes them as ‘Nationally Critical’ – but we do. And it’s up to us to sort out the problems we’ve created for them.
I love this photo, but I nearly didn’t enter it because it didn’t have much ‘action’. In the end I chose it because of that connection – between the penguins, and the straight eye contact through the lens. Obviously, I’m glad I did! It’s so rewarding when a photo you like also turns out to be a photo that other people like too. And when it’s a photo of penguins, well, that’s always a bonus.
Have a great week everyone!
