Small Penguins, Big Adventures: A Magical Night on the New Zealand Coast

How an unexpected stop in Oamaru became one of our favorite travel moments so far.

After a brief hiatus (blame New Zealand’s iconic hikes and our lack of Wi-Fi), we’re back—with our most in-the-moment update yet. We’ve had incredible experiences over the past week, but last night’s surprise adventure in Oamaru was too good not to share while it’s still fresh.

Two blue penguins emerging from the sea (illuminated by streetlights)

The Spontaneous Detour to Oamaru

Our New Zealand road trip has been guided by one main rule: follow the good weather. Locals advised us not to lock in too many plans, and after seeing how fast the forecast shifts, we’ve fully embraced this flexible approach. That’s how we ended up in Oamaru—a quirky east coast town best known for two things: its steampunk aesthetic and its colony of the world’s smallest penguins, the blue penguins (kororā).

We booked a campsite (Oamaru Harbor Tourist Park) just a day ago, drawn by its waterfront location—and the fact that the blue penguins nest there. The idea of seeing them in the wild was too tempting to pass up.

Setting Up Camp & A Curious Encounter

Rolling into Oamaru at 3 p.m., we were immediately greeted by signs that were both comical (cartoon penguins galore) and deadly serious: No camera flash. Check under your car before moving it. Do not, under any circumstances, mess with the penguins.

Check-in took an unexpected turn when we found someone parked in our assigned spot—one of the best in the park. Normally, we’d let it slide, but this was prime penguin-viewing real estate. As we politely worked with staff to resolve it, a woman checking in nearby observed the whole situation. We didn’t think much of it at the time, but as the night unfolded, she would become an unexpected part of our adventure.

The Great Penguin Stakeout

There was a formal, ticketed penguin viewing experience about a mile away, but it felt too touristy (and expensive). Instead, we decided to take our chances at the harbor.

Unclear on exactly when the penguins would return from the sea, Claire staked out a spot along the seawall around 6:30 pm while I cooked dinosaur-shaped pasta and meatballs in the van. As the sun dipped below the horizon, more people gathered. Some sat along the wall, others watched from their cars. Many gave up and left, but we held out hope.

The First Penguin Sighting

As the sun set, the moon rose—something I’d somehow never witnessed before. And just after 9 p.m., we were rewarded. A lone blue penguin emerged from the darkness, waddling toward the nesting area. When Claire accidentally stepped in its direction, it panicked and scurried back to the water. We felt guilty—but also thrilled.

Soon, more penguins arrived in pairs or small groups, darting under campervans and disappearing into bushes. One bold penguin marched straight through the campsite’s check-in area, looking as if it was registering for a spot of its own.

Another treated us to the unexpectedly memorable sight of penguin poop in action—a very dignified moment in our nature-watching careers.

Since they generally avoided streetlights, sightings happened in near-total darkness, adding to the excitement. The dozen or so observers, us included, would whisper-shout “over here!” whenever one appeared, forming an instant camaraderie.

A New Friend and a Shared Moment

Among the onlookers was the woman who had witnessed our earlier parking debacle. She was traveling solo from Melbourne, celebrating her 50th birthday—something she’d dreamed of for years but had always put off due to family commitments. As we swapped stories, she told us about another great place to see wild penguins: Phillip Island. But even she admitted that watching them waddle through a campsite was uniquely special.

Whiskey & Reflection

After the last penguin made it home, we returned to our van. Our new friend turned to us and asked, “Do you drink whiskey?” I, of course, said yes. Claire grabbed a Sprite Zero, and the three of us settled into the campsite’s common area.

What followed was one of the longest, most meaningful conversations we’ve had on this trip. She reflected on life—not regretfully, just thoughtfully—sharing things she wished she had done at our age. And I’d be remiss not to mention that she told Claire I was a keeper after hearing me ask which articles of her clothing should skip the dryer.

Wrapping Up an Unforgettable Night

What started as a simple plan to see penguins became a night of unexpected connection, quiet awe, and (much-needed) clean clothing.

As we head into the final stretch of our New Zealand road trip, we’re feeling extra grateful—not just for the jaw-dropping hikes and campervan life, but for the spontaneous moments that make travel feel so alive.

And don’t worry, we’ll be catching you up on all those epic hikes soon. For now, we’re off to enjoy our last week in New Zealand and prepare for our first visitor—our friend Amy, who’s joining us in Queenstown for a taste of van life.

Stay tuned. And if you ever find yourself in Oamaru—go find the penguins. Just be patient, keep your distance, and don’t use flash. They’ll come when they’re ready.