Paradise in a Parking Lot

California's Northern elephant seals galumph their way into my heart.

Can we talk about Northern elephant seals?

Last January, my husband and daughter and I headed down to San Francisco to visit the magnificent California Academy of Sciences and the herd of American bison in Golden Gate Park. (Bonus: I happened upon two raccoons washing their hands in North Lake in broad daylight, which just about killed me with cuteness until I remembered their incredibly toxic feces, mentioned in this excellent episode of Ologies).

We fled the crowded city to explore Point Reyes National Seashore, stopping first to tour The Marine Mammal Center, whose staff rehabilitate injured seals, sea lions, and sea otters. Then, we drove to Drake Beach because I’d heard a rumor that a colony of the most magnificent, most maligned creatures in the state reside there.

They are, of course, Northern elephant seals, and they’re awesome.

Aw, shucks. I am pretty awesome, aren’t I.

I hadn’t considered elephant seals before that morning, ever. But as we drove into the parking lot, dozens of giant gray and brown mammals lounged on spring-warmed asphalt just feet from our car, rolling and grunting and galumphing toward the inlet of ocean adjacent to the visitor center.

I fell completely and permanently in love.

Not pictures: orange cones & rangers keeping numbskulls from their seal-selfies.

Male elephant seals (called bulls) have a giant, fleshy proboscis through which they declare their love for the ladies…very, very loudly. During their December through March mating season, bull calls can hit 130 decibels. That’s significantly louder than a barking dog or a gas-powered leaf blower, and exactly on par with my accidental rooster who likes to demonstrate his decibels directly under my office window every time I’m in a Zoom meeting.

Here, give these bulls a listen: Elephant Seal Vocalizations- A Virtual Field Trip (youtube.com)

How is it possible, you ask, that regular folks like me can just drive into a parking lot blasting the Travel Song from Shrek and come face-to-face with 4,400 pound creatures who’ve emerged from Pacific Ocean to sun themselves on the beach? A team of devoted park rangers keep bad behavior at bay (no selfies astride the seals, please) while delivering the same few lines of natural history over and over without ever losing their cheer or enthusiasm for their raison d'être.

Shortly after we visited, rangers marveled at an act of elephant seal altruism they’d never witnessed; a bull, hearing a female call for her baby in danger of drowning in the ocean, hurled himself down the beach and into the surf to rescue the pup. From The New York Times article: “By rushing down the beach like David Hasselhoff in “Baywatch,” this lifeguard of a seal was not only abandoning his harem of females but also expending valuable energy.”

Here’s a bit of video I took from the parking lot of Drake Beach:

Fun Facts about Elephant Seals

·        Elephant seals molt both their hair and their skin. They can’t handle the cold Pacific while hairless and skinless in patches, so they find dry land—a “haul out”—where they relax until they no longer look like they visited the super-stoned hairdresser at Supercuts even though they promised never to go there again even though it’s just so convenient and adjacent to that bakery with the killer cream puffs.

·        While they’re chilling on the beach, elephant seals don’t eat; instead, they live off their blubber. This sounds like an excellent technique to try after the holiday excesses of say, Halloween through New Year’s Day.

·        In the ocean, elephant seals can swim 10 miles per hour. On land, they can sprint six miles an hour, a little slower than me dragging my middle-aged bones around the local track. Scientists call their terrestrial locomotion “galumphing.” Elephant seals undulate on their bellies, using their front flippers to steer and to balance their massive bodies. (Note to self: when my knees give out, adopt this technique.)

·        Male elephant seals gather together 40 to 50 females during breeding season—a group known as a harem—and they defend the honor of their ladies and their territory by mounting dramatic battles that rival any Ren Faire jousting contest. Here’s BBC footage of what I’m talking about.

·        Elephant seals can hold their breath for up to 100 minutes. In contrast, Croatia’s Budimir Sobat set a 2021 world record of 24 minutes and 37.36 seconds. And humans think we’re the superior beings.

Resources

Elephant Seal Fact Sheet | Blog | Nature | PBS

Northern Elephant Seal | The Marine Mammal Center

Elephant Seals | National Geographic

Elephant Seals Recognize Their Rivals’ Voices—Hear Their Calls (nationalgeographic.com)