Magellenic Penguins, Isla Magdalena, Chile
Off the coast of the southern tip of South America is a tiny island called Isla Magdalena. It sits in the frigid Antarctic waters of the Strait of Magellan, a curvy, navigable sea route separating South America to the north and Tierra del Fuego to the south. The channel’s major port city is Punta Arenas, where we stayed while we awaited our descent into Patagonia.
The Strait of Magellan is named after Ferdinand Magellan, the first European to navigate the channel in 1520. His passage wasn’t easy: the Strait of Magellan is known for its treacherous weather, tricky passageways, and glacial climate. It took him thirty-eight days to complete the passageway, during which time he named the land to the north Land of the Patagones (Patagonia) and the land to the south Land of Smoke (Tierra del Fuego).
The Strait of Magellan became an important shipping route connecting the Atlantic and Pacific oceans (this was far before the completion of the Panama Canal in 1914, which shortened the journey by thousands of miles). Shipping companies preferred the protected, inland passage of the Strait of Magellan to the much rougher, incredibly dangerous Drake Passage that separates South America’s Cape Horn from Antarctica.
Getting There
Our journey in the Strait of Magellan didn’t have as illustrious or historic a goal, but one that was much cuter: penguins. Isla Magdalena is an island that sits about 32km off the coast of Punta Arenas, in the Strait of Magellan. It is home to an estimated 120,000 nesting Magellanic Penguins, who use the island as their breeding and nesting grounds from September to March. In September, female penguins lay two eggs that usually hatch in December.
The island is very tiny–occupying only about half a kilometer in the stormy Magellanic seas. In 1982, the government of Chile declared Isla Magdalena and nearby Isla Marta (home to a colony of sea lions) a natural monument.
During breeding season, the government services the area with six park rangers who shepherd visitors to the island across designated pathways and keep up the lighthouse on the island. In the off season (winter), the number of park rangers dwindles to 3.
On a detour before traveling to Torres del Paine in Patagonia, we visited Isla Magdalena on New Year’s Day, smack in the middle of the high season. For 100 USD, Cascada Expeditions organized the trip for us, arranging for a bus to pick us up at our hotel and drive us along the coastline to a tiny dock where a set of zodiac boats waited for us. In the distance, a much larger boat floated.
Inside the zodiac boat
When we woke up that morning, Matt and I were keenly aware of the brooding, ominous clouds hanging over Punta Arenas. The day wasn’t pretty, and we knew that trips to Isla Magdalena were highly dependent on weather. The manager of our hotel had warned us that trips to the island were frequently cancelled due to poor weather conditions because the Strait of Magellan is such a dangerous place for boats. Even in the height of summer, when we visited, we weren’t guaranteed a trip.
Even standing on the dock, staring at the zodiac boats, I was still convinced we wouldn’t be going to the island that day. A misty, cold rain was settling on our group and I shivered against Matt, starting to think about what other areas we could explore if our trip was cancelled.
And then, all of a sudden, a man jumped out of one of the zodiac boats and ushered us all to quickly load into the boat. The zodiac was tiny and it looked like we’d squished thirty people in. Ten minutes later, we were climbing out of the zodiac and being loaded into the larger ship. Inside the ship, we were greeted with hot tea and snacks, and we grabbed a seat at a table by the window.
Once the captain had loaded a couple more rounds of zodiac boats into his ship, we set off towards the islands. From the coast, it was roughly an hour ride to Isla Magdalena. Although the sky was a leaden gray, the weather was holding.
Once On This Island
On the island, the park rangers instructed us to stay to a designated path, be very quiet, and not approach any penguins. If a penguin were to wander across the pathway, we were to stop, give it distance, and not disrupt its behavior. The park rangers then accompanied us in small groups, so as to lessen the volume of a big group disembarking at the same time.
The penguins were wonderful!! Because the island is so small, it takes about an hour to walk around the designated pathway, depending on how much time you spend taking photos or drinking in the scenery. When we visited in January, most of the penguins on the island had babies that were born in late November or early December. The park rangers pointed out the babies to us–they didn’t look like babies!
At just one month old, the baby penguins were the same size as their mom and dad. The only real difference between the young ones and their parents was their coloring. Newborn penguins are born with soft gray fuzz. Not until they reach age 3 will they start to develop the signature black and white coloring characteristic to Magellanic penguins.
Along with penguins, we were lucky to see other famous sea birds–seagulls also come here to nest in the summer months, so we saw lots of little baby gulls.
The predators, such as the great Skua (which we met on our visit to Norway!), sat in watch nearby, waiting to prey on the baby seagulls. The park rangers explained to us that by one month, the penguins are too large for predators to catch and eat.
We spent a precious hour-and-a-half, moving about a foot every minute, captivated by the penguins. Every now and then we’d have to stop and wait for a penguin to cross in front of us. We watched them feed their young and shepherd them into their nesting sites, which looked to us like hobbit holes, built into the sides of hills facing against the wind.
We were treated to several boisterous rounds of penguin in-fighting, and saw hordes of little birds jumping in and out of the frigid waters catching fish or going for a swim.
At the top of the hill, we stood by the old lighthouse where the park rangers keep their headquarters and admired the view of the penguin colony playing, eating, and fighting under the red-and-white Chilean flag and blue-and-yellow Patagonian flag.
When it was time to get back on the boat, the captain and his crew let down a ladder from the deck to the shore of the island. Several curious penguins raced to the ladder and tried to jump on it. Everyone laughed as the park rangers and crew members chased the penguins away and then rapidly ushered us into the boat as quickly as they could. Before we departed, the captain made sure there were no penguin stowaways under the boat!
Our final journey in the Strait of Magellan was to the even-smaller Isla Marta, just half an hour from Isla Magdalena and home to a boisterous sea lion colony. The island looks like a giant, sandy cliff rising from the sea. Because of its structure and size, it is impossible to land a boat on the island or allow visitors, so we watched the sea lions playing and swimming in the surf.
When the boat returned us to Punta Arenas, we were exhausted from being out in the cold and the wind, but so elated that we had gotten to witness the famous Magellanic penguins on their home turf. And later that day, after a quick lunch in downtown Punta Arenas, we would be heading to Patagonia, where we’d see more wildlife, vaster landscapes, and more treacherous passes than even the Strait of Magellan.
