A violent splashing alerts us. Just metres from our Zodiac, a penguin is coming straight towards us, thrashing its flippers, almost aquaplaning over the freezing cobalt water as it makes a terrified bid for safety.

We have seen dozens of them on the ice. Their comical gait makes us laugh, and some of us manage to sit still enough for them to come right up to us (this is environmentally acceptable – humans should not approach them) and pose beside us for a one-of-a-kind happy-snap to take home: the ultimate ‘here I am at……’ souvenir.

But here is a first. This little fellow, a Gentoo, third-largest of the 17 penguin species, and identifiable by a yellow bill and a swipe of white from its eyes over the top of his black head, is plainly in trouble. Apparently he sees our heavy-duty rubber boat crammed with tourists as his last hope for survival.

Penguins have few predators, and humans are no longer amongst them. Once they were, and there are stories of early Antarctic explorers capturing thousands of these creatures and boiling down their carcases to provide valuable oil for lighting and heating, or preserving their flesh for food.

Forget the impossible myth that polar bears like to dine on penguins. The two only come together in zoos, as polar bears are limited to the northern hemisphere while penguins inhabit the south where cold currents yield rich harvests of fish and crustaceans, staple items on a penguin menu.

Antarctica is home to one perpetually ravenous and aggressive animal. The leopard seal grows to a massive 450-plus kilograms and 3.5 metres in length, and we see one now closing in on the terrified Gentoo. It so nearly makes it, but just a flipper stroke or two from leaping into our boat, there is a lunge and a swirl of water that turns instantly pink as the penguin is dragged back from safety. Goliath has won, and displays its trophy, playing out a catlike triumph, tossing the limp body into the air repeatedly, juggling it in huge jaws.

Welcome to Antarctica where nature displays its beauty and savagery on a frozen stage. Unlike Happy Feet, here an all-dancing, all-singing, happy-ending story-line is not always possible. 

Someone once said: Who would believe in penguins unless he had seen them?

That ungainly strut, flippers out for balance, doesn’t seem real. Early explorers called them fish, not flightless birds, when they saw them porpoising effortlessly through water. How they can do that in below-freezing temperatures defies belief. You or I would be dead from hypothermia in a few seconds.

Apparently Happy Feet is doing for penguins what Babe did for porkers. Suddenly we all think we know what goes on in a penguin brain; how the heart beats behind the prim tux. The fact that Mumbles and his clan have been motion-captured (their movements synched to those of humans) matters less.

If you always thought penguins were just cute birds in dinner suits who liked to hang out in cool settings, you should know this:

Penguins breed in colonies only in the Southern Hemisphere. Even the northernmost of the 17 Spheniscidae species found only in the Galapagos Islands, skim in under the equator. Just. These northern cousins would have to be the penguin fashionistas baking in the sun while the rest shiver in the far south.

Nor are penguins small birds. Emperor Penguins, the largest, average 1.2metres in height. King penguins are rotund giants too, reaching one metre and weighing 60-70 kilograms – birdland’s proof that black certainly is slimming, as any human of those dimensions would be hurried off to weight-loss classes. In penguin-land it goes unnoticed.

Penguins are not all dressed alike in black and white, either. Gentoos have dark charcoal coats, macaronis (and a few others) sport dandy yellow tufts above their eyes, and if you are lucky enough to see an emperor penguin, be prepared for yellow and cream ear-patches. On this species, as well as the king penguin, their outfit resembles more an elegant morning suit with tails.

So where can we expect to encounter our own version of Happy Feet?

Antarctica, of course. There are hundreds, and in some places thousands, of breeding pairs scattered in rookeries across the world’s driest, loneliest, coldest plateau, where the human population is far outnumbered by various forms of wildlife.

Only four penguin species breed in Antarctica. Estimates suggest the continent and nearby islands are home to up to 2.5 million pairs of cute little Adelie penguins, standing only 30 centimetres tall, 200,000 pairs of majestic Emperor penguins, 7 million pairs of Chinstraps, and 300,000 pairs of Gentoos.

But there are breeding colonies of diminutive Little penguins, less than 30 centimetres tall, with bluish-grey rather than black coats much further north, around Sydney – primarily in Manly Cove and also Lion Island in Pittwater. Recently there was a story of human interference with the Manly colony and volunteer wardens are being sought to protect them. Appropriately the Collins Beach site is marked by a penguin sculpture, named Tula.

However, further south, sightings become more frequent.

In King Island, at the township of Grassy on the east coast of the tiny Bass Strait island, we tiptoed amongst a horde of Little penguins as they noisily returned from a day’s fishing. Intent on finding their burrow, they jostled past us, somehow managing to locate home yet again, possibly by using their distinctive sound which helps each pair distinguish each other.

Similarly at Kangaroo Island, where penguins almost outnumber people, on the edge of the beach in the main town of Kingscote we take a torchlit tour of penguin-land. What we do not expect (and indeed first whiff of penguin territory can be confronting) is the smell. A main diet of raw fish and other watery fare can make for odour problems. Penguins don’t seem to mind, though, and we saw the gleam of many little feathery faces, pressed close together, peeping back out at us from holes in the sandy banks.

On the eastern side of the island, at Penneshaw, the 1200 or so resident penguins are so common that there is a road sign warning motorists to watch out for them. Some home-owners have installed penguin-proofing to prevent the birds nesting underneath, others proudly point out burrows in their back yards. But even so penguins are at risk. Feral cats are the main predator, as well as dogs, snakes, rats and goannas.

New Zealand has Little penguins too in many places. On the Otago Peninsula near Dunedin, at Penguin Place, we were introduced to a colony of yellow-eyed penguins, the hoiho, which also appears on the New Zealand, five-dollar note. Originally begun with eight pairs, now the colony numbers 19 couples, and boardwalks and discreet hides have been erected so that inquisitive humans like us can watch the rarest of all penguins with their distinctive golden heads and yellow eye stripes. Only 2000 pairs are said to exist on the south island and adjacent islands in the Southern Ocean, making them the world’s rarest.

Peru, Southern Africa, Chile, and the Falkland Islands also attract these dapper little characters. A town in north-western Tasmania is called Penguin, and there is a Penguin Island (with Little penguins) south of Perth in Western Australia. Look for Little penguins on Montague Island off Narooma in NSW (or even occasionally on remote beaches south of there), Philip Island in Victoria (as well as St Kilda beach), King and Bruny Islands in Tasmania (plus Lillico beach, Penguin, Bicheno and Low Head), and Granite and Kangaroo Islands in South Australia.

Mumbles and his clan may have made a box-office hit for George Miller, but you might find meeting the real-life happy-chappies even more enthralling.

MORE INFORMATION:
Peregrine Adventures offer regular tours to Antarctica from November to March each year. Details: www.peregrineadventures.com