In the summer South Georgia plays host to two million raucous fur seals, 95 percent of the world's southern population. Males are territorial, especially breeding bulls. They are as aggressive as any large mammal anywhere, charging ferociously at anything that violates their space, including me. Many times! They are surprisingly swift over land given their size, up to 500 pounds, and that they have flippers instead of feet. But it's in the water that they are really in their element, the ultimate in sinuous grace and agility.

A short distance in from the beachheads where breeding seals do battle, are the king penguin colonies. Don't expect quiet neighborhoods here either. Like the seals the kings are on a breeding mission and summer is short at these latitudes. So all are fussy. Kings are the second tallest penguin at three feet, and the most colorful, with their silvery-blue jackets, bright orange bow ties and ear flaps, and white shirtfronts.

Higher up the tussocky hills are gentoo penguins, about a third of the world's population, in rather manageable groups of a few hundred individuals. They seem rather sedate alongside the rowdy kings. The feisty chinstrap penguin extends its range to the southern coast of the island in relatively small numbers. And finally, on the most inaccessible, storm-lashed cliffs of South Georgia, ten million macaroni penguins squabble over space, and gaze out to sea with deep red eyes from beneath their cowlick of a yellow crest.