Penguin Parades and Kangaroo Smacks

There are penguins in Australia. I’d had no idea that penguins inhabited anything but ice floes in the Antarctic until arriving here. As it turns out, Melbourne is a short distance from a large colony of Little Penguins. The YHA where I was staying offered day trips to witness the spectacle of what they cutely called the Penguin Parade. I have a fairly deep-set prejudice against group tours, preferring to travel independently. But there was no alternative form of public transport to the island. Having the opportunity to see a wild penguin wasn’t something I wanted to pass up, so I decided to make an exception and sign up for one of the tours.

Unfortunately in order to see the penguins I had to see a whole lot of other things first. One of the stops was at Maru Koala and Fauna Park. This was very similar to the Featherdale Wildlife Park I’d already visited, so I wasn’t very enthusiastic about it. Especially since we were guided as a herd from cage to cage. We started with a wombat. The tour brochure had promised the chance to cuddle a baby wombat, but the only person who got any cuddle time was the animal’s keeper. He hoisted her up in his arms and the group immediately crushed forward to get photos, obstructing my view completely.

Like Featherdale, we had the opportunity to feed the wallabies and kangaroos that also inhabit the park. But with a mob of people outnumbering the wallabies at least two to one, it was not easy to find a wallaby that didn’t already have its mouth full. I was growing progressively annoyed with my group and having to wait until all of it reached a cage before the keepers would start talking. So when the rest of the group went into the kangaroo enclosure, I discreetly hung back by the emu pen. I knew what time we were leaving, so I figured I’d let the crowd subside before I went in. I waited and fed the emus until the rest of the group had passed to the far side of the enclosure, then let myself into the pen.

I could see everyone else attempting to feed a group of kangaroos clustered near the exit. I chose to feed an isolated bunch I saw lying off to the side instead. One of them got up as I approached, anticipating a feeding session. I was a little startled by its size. He was much larger than any of the kangaroos I’d seen or fed at Featherdale. His clawed front paws looked a little menacing when he spread them on the ground. But he ate out of my palm politely enough.

As soon as his allotted portion was gone, he became quite greedy. He stood up on his hind legs and attempted to shove his nose into the bowl that contained the rest of the feed. I gave him a few more servings from my hand, then tried to feed one of the other animals nearby. The first kangaroo did not like this at all. He got angry. And he hit me. He used his front paw to smack my arm so that I’d drop my plastic dish and spill the rest of the food. It worked brilliantly. Stunned, I looked around to make sure no-one had seen. The tour guide had probably told everyone else to avoid that particular group of kangaroos because they were aggressive. But of course I hadn’t heard. I picked up the now-empty bowl and slunk back to the group, brushing bits of feed off my shirt and examining the scratch on my arm.

We left shortly after that, making a few more stops before finally reaching Phillip Island. From this point on, the tour completely made up for its lacklustre beginnings. On the way to the island from the mainland, we saw several wild wallabies and the houses that had been built for the penguins to encourage them to expand their nesting grounds. Phillip Island is a dormant volcano, and we started our exploration at a volcanic rock formation called the Nobbies. The scenery there was absolutely breathtaking. Uneven, black rock extended from the base of the hilly island into the water. The sun was weakly penetrating the clouds, creating dazzling reflections off pools of water that were trapped in the pockets of the rocks.

Our tour guide led us along the boardwalk, pointing out holes where some of the penguins were nesting. But the more noticeable birds on the island were the seagulls. They were absolutely everywhere. So was their shit. I’m astonished that I escaped unsullied. I nearly did get pecked, though. I was setting up an autotimer shot and must have encroached on a nest. One of the birds started shrieking, hovering above my head and occasionally diving at me. It persisted until it had driven me a sufficient distance away.

After that, I was happy to leave the windswept area. I was cold and increasingly disturbed by the masses of threatening seabirds in the air and the large number of dead ones on the ground. The journey from the Nobbies to the Penguin Parade was very short, leaving us with plenty of time to explore the gift shops whilst we waited for it to get dark enough for the penguins to come ashore. Finally it was dusk. As the light faded, clusters of the little bird gathered at the edge of the water. They stood there, judging whether it was safe to leave their camouflaged environment for the exposure of the sand.

Eventually a group would grow brave enough and start to waddle across the beach. Then suddenly they’d lose courage, turn around and run back to the water. As the gathering darkness made them feel more secure, clusters of penguins started to make the passage across the sand. We watched from two sets of concrete risers as they ran across the beach to the grassy brush that separated the two stands. They leaned forward, wings spread, and swayed ridiculously from side to side as they moved. They were tiny—only 33 cm tall. It was incredible to see penguins in the wild, even though it was based in such a tourist-attraction setting.

After watching several of them make the crossing from afar, I left the stands and walked along the lengthy boardwalk that traversed the scrub. Several penguins were standing within arm’s length, completely unperturbed by the hoards of humans tromping about so near to them. Perhaps they weren’t afraid because they couldn’t hear us. Once in their burrows, the penguins made tremendously loud chirping, wailing and snoring sounds. The sheer volume was incredible, especially coming from such a small animal. At one lighted section I saw a wallaby climb out of the bush and cross the penguins’ path, disappearing into the grass on the other side of the boardwalk. Compared to the tiny penguins, the small wallaby seemed huge.

I’m very glad I saw the penguin parade. Whether or not I’m glad I went with a tour group is something I still haven’t decided. I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to watch the penguins or be hit by a kangaroo if I hadn’t done the day trip. But I’m a little reluctant to do another in the future. It makes certain aspects, especially transportation, easier, but it restricts choice and makes it impossible to find my own off-the-beaten-path sorts of places. And being shuffled along amongst a herd also annoys me very quickly. I’m planning to go scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef next week, so I’ll have to weigh the options again at that point. If someone offers a Sea Turtle ‘Stravaganza, I may just have to take them up on it.