I have been swimming and swimming, very very fast. When I get to shore I pop up out of the waves in one glorious motion and I am home on my very own rocks in my very own cove at XXX. Diesel, the founder of the colony, is staring me down from his lookout up on the hill. He has been waiting there for hours. He is past twenty years old and I reckon that makes him so good at fishing he can afford to leave the ocean early. Not a very patient penguin though, yelling and calling from up there on the hill. It is almost breeding season, but I think he is getting a little ahead of himself.
Swimming 16 kilometres from my fishing hole at the bottom of the ocean makes me hot hot hot. So bother Diesel, it is time to take a few minutes to cool off. I hold my flippers out so my blood that is closer to the surface can cool off. The underside of my flippers matches my bright pink feet which are doing the same thing. Just a few more minutes of cooling down, some preening, a shake, a stretch, and I can start my way up the hill to my nest and a rest.