After having climbed to the top of the rock, Chadwick wondered what the point of it all was. He was going to jump, but then he remembered fish. “That’s the reason,” he thought “fish. It’s all about the fish.”
We salute you Chadwick, for being the raddest, imma-climb-to-the-highest-spot penguin. 
(Disclaimer: this is not actually at Seaforth, it’s down the beach at Boulders. But it’s just too cool not to post)

After having climbed to the top of the rock, Chadwick wondered what the point of it all was. He was going to jump, but then he remembered fish. “That’s the reason,” he thought “fish. It’s all about the fish.”

We salute you Chadwick, for being the raddest, imma-climb-to-the-highest-spot penguin. 

(Disclaimer: this is not actually at Seaforth, it’s down the beach at Boulders. But it’s just too cool not to post)

Guthrie gives me the laaaaazy eye, while Bathilda tries to get in the shot. 
It’s all rather jumbled here as the penguins try to navigate their way out to sea after being released. There was much jostling and confusion, splashing, dashing, and one little guy seemed to have developed a cramp. In the end all of them made it out to sea, although a few needed some gentle prodding.
"But I don Wanna go to sea. I don wanna. Nooo, put me,…"
Splash
"Oooh, it’s nice in here, ooh a fish, ooh look how fast I can swim. oooooh".

Guthrie gives me the laaaaazy eye, while Bathilda tries to get in the shot. 

It’s all rather jumbled here as the penguins try to navigate their way out to sea after being released. There was much jostling and confusion, splashing, dashing, and one little guy seemed to have developed a cramp. In the end all of them made it out to sea, although a few needed some gentle prodding.

"But I don Wanna go to sea. I don wanna. Nooo, put me,…"

Splash

"Oooh, it’s nice in here, ooh a fish, ooh look how fast I can swim. oooooh".

This past weekend was a hive, no I guess it was a colony, a colony of penguin activity. Not only did the Penguin run come to an end, but it was also Penguin Awareness day, the Boulders Penguin Festival, and the annual release of rescued penguins from Seaforth beach.

Obviously, I took 10000 00000 photos. These will be slowly coming out this week. But here is a first splash. 

Basically all these little guys have been rescued or hand reared, and are being released back into the wild. For those who were hand reared it is the FIRST TIME THEY ARE SEEING THE OCEAN. 

Which would have been like keeping me in a house until I was 18 and then letting me loose in a wine cellar with a cork screw. 

Some of the birds were all like “HELLS YEAH FREEDOM” while others were a little more “what the fuck are all these people doing here, where am i, who am i, what is that massive body of water, I am staying in my cardboard box thank you very much.” 

Eventually all swam away. Some may stay in Seaforth (the smartest ones) the others will swim straight out to see ending up at Robben Island, Dassen Island, Boulders, or even up in Namibia. 

Well well well, it seems that our under-penguin, hank the layabout, hank the ‘ya, like, the mountain, what-evs’ penguin owned everyone with a late minute, come from behind, faery-tale-ending swim on sunday evening. 
Hank languished at the back of the pack for most of the Penguin Run, with Fluke the Penguin way out in front. Then, as if Hank was auditioning for the Disney remake of the Penguin Run, remembered his training, (Wax on wax off Hank, Wax on Wax off), believed in himself, took the victory, won the girl, and resolved his rocky relationship with his father, while cracking jokes at whales, other penguins, and the fish. There was also a song, where is side kick Sardine Sam, raps an amusing ditty about the over-fishing of his species. (Yes, yes Disney, I’ll write the script).
Hank is in red. He slacked off after the win for some much needed sardines. Soon he will reach Dassen Island to molt - new wardrobe baby - and live of his fat until the feathers are waterproofed. 
Hank, you take glory, me, I get the beers. 

Well well well, it seems that our under-penguin, hank the layabout, hank the ‘ya, like, the mountain, what-evs’ penguin owned everyone with a late minute, come from behind, faery-tale-ending swim on sunday evening. 

Hank languished at the back of the pack for most of the Penguin Run, with Fluke the Penguin way out in front. Then, as if Hank was auditioning for the Disney remake of the Penguin Run, remembered his training, (Wax on wax off Hank, Wax on Wax off), believed in himself, took the victory, won the girl, and resolved his rocky relationship with his father, while cracking jokes at whales, other penguins, and the fish. There was also a song, where is side kick Sardine Sam, raps an amusing ditty about the over-fishing of his species. (Yes, yes Disney, I’ll write the script).

Hank is in red. He slacked off after the win for some much needed sardines. Soon he will reach Dassen Island to molt - new wardrobe baby - and live of his fat until the feathers are waterproofed. 

Hank, you take glory, me, I get the beers. 

Cuthbert looks out to sea, admiring the land that will one day be his, or hers (not quite sure to be honest). 
Cuthbert’s grey fluff that kept him, or her, warm after hatching is almost gone. Soon he, or she, will be heading out to sea for his, or her, most perilous period. Hopefully after conquering the waves Cuthbert will return to Seaforth to begin breeding. 
Godspeed Cuthbert, godspeed. 

Cuthbert looks out to sea, admiring the land that will one day be his, or hers (not quite sure to be honest). 

Cuthbert’s grey fluff that kept him, or her, warm after hatching is almost gone. Soon he, or she, will be heading out to sea for his, or her, most perilous period. Hopefully after conquering the waves Cuthbert will return to Seaforth to begin breeding. 

Godspeed Cuthbert, godspeed. 

Carrying on with our selection of prime Penguin real-estate in the Seaforth area, may I present you with the abode of our previous Penguins, Brewster and Godiva. 
They have chosen this on-trend stone home, right on the beach. Seemingly snug and spacious at the same time, this architectural marvel fits perfectly in with its environment. An entertainer’s dream, anchovie buffet’s and Sardine Sushi parties are de rigueur for owners of a place like this.  
Godiva said of her chic and stony home, “It’s divine. We used to live in the bushes at the end of the beach, and with all the litter, crowding and dog shit, we just had to move. Since we’ve come down here to the beach, our entire lifestyle has improved. Seriously, my Sharkra is totally in line.”
Brewster, though more circumspect, is also happy with the move, “We’re always under threat you know. It’s hard. We have to give ourselves something that brings us joy. Also, those bloody cats never come down this far.” 

Carrying on with our selection of prime Penguin real-estate in the Seaforth area, may I present you with the abode of our previous Penguins, Brewster and Godiva. 

They have chosen this on-trend stone home, right on the beach. Seemingly snug and spacious at the same time, this architectural marvel fits perfectly in with its environment. An entertainer’s dream, anchovie buffet’s and Sardine Sushi parties are de rigueur for owners of a place like this.  

Godiva said of her chic and stony home, “It’s divine. We used to live in the bushes at the end of the beach, and with all the litter, crowding and dog shit, we just had to move. Since we’ve come down here to the beach, our entire lifestyle has improved. Seriously, my Sharkra is totally in line.”

Brewster, though more circumspect, is also happy with the move, “We’re always under threat you know. It’s hard. We have to give ourselves something that brings us joy. Also, those bloody cats never come down this far.” 

This is sad. Especially as penguins are an indicator species - they don’t move about too much so are easy to count - and their slow demise suggests our oceans are pretty fucked up.
When I moved to Seaforth I was all like, “Hells yeah, penguins. Woohooo so many penguins.”
But then after doing a bit of reading I realised that these guys represented the majority of the African Penguin left in existence. Which is like getting excited about a fridge full of beer, and then finding out its the last fridge of beers in the history of the world. And then finding out this indicates the destruction of ALL THE JOY IN THE WORLD. 
While out planet is full of ills, and even more full of ways that you can help, if penguins are your thing visit.
http://www.birdlife.org.za/conservation/seabirds/sos
or just hand over your cash here
http://www.thepenguinrun.com/donate.html

This is sad. Especially as penguins are an indicator species - they don’t move about too much so are easy to count - and their slow demise suggests our oceans are pretty fucked up.

When I moved to Seaforth I was all like, “Hells yeah, penguins. Woohooo so many penguins.”

But then after doing a bit of reading I realised that these guys represented the majority of the African Penguin left in existence. Which is like getting excited about a fridge full of beer, and then finding out its the last fridge of beers in the history of the world. And then finding out this indicates the destruction of ALL THE JOY IN THE WORLD. 

While out planet is full of ills, and even more full of ways that you can help, if penguins are your thing visit.

http://www.birdlife.org.za/conservation/seabirds/sos

or just hand over your cash here

http://www.thepenguinrun.com/donate.html

Dinner is served at the Myerscough household.

Miranda offers up a melange of a pilchards and anchovies, delicately digested and masticated, garnished with a quite exquisite squid foam. Apparently little Bradford found the meal satisfying, if lacking precision and complexity. 

Gerald looks on, wishing he’d never bought Miranda that Gordon Ramsea cook book. The food’s all too bloody finicky these days.