A Weaner's World

If you'd like to know some more about the life of elephant seal pups and weaners, I just wrote about it here.

Another Farallon Farewell

Only a few more days remain before I have to bid farewell to this beautiful island once again. This time next week, I'll be snuggled on my old broken-in couch with Husband in our little forest house on the mainland. No sea to surround us, no rare seabirds to call out to us, no seals to amuse us, but we will be together again. I'll miss this place and my coworkers terribly, but I'm looking forward to the beloved things that await me in near future... and to all of the adventures yet to come in the more distant future.

It's been weeks since the last of the elephant seal cows departed for her long sea journey, leaving her weaned pup behind to fend for itself. The males made sure to impregnate the remaining cows, and most of them are starting to leave the island as well. The weaners are the only elephant seals left behind, although some scraggly 2 and 3 year old immatures are starting to haul out for much-needed land breaks now that there are no angry cows or adult males to chase them away.

One of the last nursing pups enjoying a carefree bath in a puddle with mama

Impregnating the last cow

Straggler males

2-year old immature seal hanging out with the weaners

The weaned pups now have Sand Flat all to themselves. They spent their first few weeks of weandom mainly sleeping, trying to get out of the way of the last squabbling males, and warming themselves in the sun. Now that they're all getting a little bit older and hungrier, they're starting to play and discover their world. I saw 13 weaners playing in the shallow waters just off Mirounga Beach today. They were rolling around in the water, swimming little laps, chasing each other and seaweeds and jellyfish, and trying to eat sand. They were clumsy, awkward, and hilarious. It's a wonder that one doesn't have to pay for that kind of entertainment. There was lots of gargling, sneezing, snorting, gagging, coughing, clucking, growling, and squealing. It's hard to believe that a month or so from now these cumbersome and clueless animals will be heading out to the sea to learn to catch fish and evade predators. Most of them won't make it, but some will probably return back to Sand Flat to have their own pups years from now.

Rocks make a comfortable pillow when you have at least 4 chins for padding

Sleepy friends

Playing in a puddle

Weaner pod on Omega Terrace

Discovering the hindflippers

Weaners venture out swimming

One of our weaned pups has already gone on his own long journey. After spending a week exploring the grassy terrace above Sand Flat (and making it halfway up the path from Sand Flat to the houses), the rogue adventurer disappeared altogether. We considered him as good as gone, washed away by swells, beaten down by waves, possibly drowned. But two days after I had a dream that he returned, and 10 days after we last saw him, we found him in one of the gulches, half-way across the island from Sand Flat! We were overjoyed to see that he's survived so far, and wish he could tell us where he's been and what he's been doing all this time.

Intrepid adventurer in the grass before his disappearance

The triumphant return!

Spring is upon us and things are changing on the island. The flowers are in bloom, the elephant seals are leaving, and seabirds are returning to the island to breed. The gulls have been putting up an incredible racket, spending all day and night defending their territories, screaming incessantly, and fighting brutally. Cassin's auklets are returning at night and chirping away, digging burrows to lay their eggs. Common murres are stopping by to roost on the island pretty much daily and pairing up, spending longer and longer each day defending their rocky cliffs and bonding with their mates.

Murre colony

Couples bonding by mutual preening

Calling for a mate

The ravens are busily flying to and fro, scavenging ever more vigilantly for food, and tenderly preening each other. They're probably building a nest right about now somewhere on the island where we can't yet find it.

The cormorants are pairing up on their cliffside nest sites and starting to rebuild old nests. I'm seeing more of them flying around carrying vegetation for nest building.

A perched cormorant surprised by a passing murre

We're seeing more and more pregnant harbor seals, and we even found the tiniest pup on the beach the other day - the first one we've seen out here.

Pregnant harbor seal

Sleepy newborn harbor seal pup (smaller than a gull!)

Yes, the seasons are definitely changing. Our winter crew is staying one week longer on the island this year than we did last year, and it's amazing how much more spring action we're seeing with just a few days' difference. The next few days are forecasted to bring some rain, so I've been trying to take in as much as I can before we're socked in and spending the last moments of our island time indoors, doing supply inventory and data proofing.

Burrowing owl

Harbor seal yoga

Winner of the snot contest

Inquisitive male

It's amazing how quickly this season went by, and yet when I think about events that happened when we first arrived on the island, they feel like like ages ago. I regret not writing about my experiences more, not taking more videos... I regret all of the times that I did not fully appreciate each moment. And yet, when presented with an experience so rich, so memorable, so unique, can one possibly have any regrets when it's over? Thank you, PRBO, for another wonderful field season. Thank you, Husband, for supporting me in my adventures even though they take me far away from you for months at a time. This leap of faith in a new direction has been one of the best things I've done in my life so far and I am incredibly grateful for the support and encouragement of so many wonderful people. It's never too late to change - although it does take a lot of hard work, a good deal of courage, and a little splash of luck. I'd say it's worth it. And though I may not know exactly where I'm going from here, perhaps the beauty of really, truly living lies in not knowing.

Thank you for reading! Much love to you all.

Wind, waves, and weaners

A lot has happened here in smellephant land since my last blog post. We had a big fight between two bulls on Superbowl Sunday, a superweaner that nursed from a second mom for an extra two weeks, some unfortunate pup squishings, cows leaving to go back to sea in droves, and weaners and weaner pods galore. The past three weeks have also brought extremely high winds and high swells, making for spectacular seawatching and difficult walking. One morning, the high winds brought in a huge flock of brown pelicans, almost all of them in breeding plumage, sheltering together in front of the house. It was a pretty fantastic sight.

The only birds that don't seem bothered by the wind are the peregrine falcons. They swoop and ride the wind gusts with confidence and ease.

And strangely, I feel as if the pair of ravens has been following me around as I walk around battling the winds. They've gotten really close to me and sometimes I almost wonder if these spookily intelligent birds are trying to tell me something. Maybe they're looking for me to unearth something tasty as I walk around doing my surveys.

The elephant seal season is starting to slow down. Most of the cows have left their pups on Sand Flat and have gone back to sea after fasting for over a month. Just before leaving, the cows become receptive for mating and the alpha male of their harem will mate with each one. Elephant seals and many other marine mammals have a fascinating reproductive strategy called delayed implantation, meaning that after the egg is fertilized, it does not implant in the uterus right away (as in most land mammals). Instead, the egg divides a few times and then pauses to float around for 3 or 4 months while the female regains her body weight after the breeding season fast. Delayed implantation may also help synchronize all of the females' breeding cycles so that they all haul out around the same time to give birth, regardless of when their egg was fertilized. Anyway, once the cows are receptive for mating, the males get quite antsy. Although the alpha male will fight to the death to protect his harem, sometimes subordinate males might sneak into the periphery of the colony and manage to have a go at one of the alpha's cows. Younger males with lower dominance rank are easily chased off by the alpha bulls, often with a mere vocalization. However, sometimes the alpha will be challenged by another large male.

We witnessed one such spectacular challenge on the morning of Superbowl Sunday as we were doing our regular seal survey. MC Hammer, the alpha bull of the small harem in Mirounga Beach, came up through a narrow channel towards Rusty's territory on Sand Flat. Just at the periphery of Sand Flat was a sneaker male - a bull named Herzog that has been the beta male to Rusty's territory. Although Rusty won't let Herzog get too close to his cows, he does allow him to hang around on the outskirts of Sand Flat and occasionally mate with the cows out there - probably because by doing so, he is getting help patrolling the territory. And Rusty did indeed get help from Herzog on that Sunday morning because MC Hammer never got to Sand Flat.

Vocalizing a threat

MC Hammer vocalized when he got to the border where Herzog was hanging out, but Herzog did not back down. For a moment, I watched these two gargantuan, primordial-looking creatures rear up as high as they could go and look each other in the eye in total silence. It eerie, and we knew that a big battle was coming. The lighting was awful and my memory card was full, but I frantically deleted old photos and got ready for one of nature's most amazing spectacles.

Sizing each other up

Herzog struck the first blow and although MC Hammer did retaliate, it was clear from the start that Herzog was the more dominant male. For a while, the only sounds we heard were the thuds and slaps as the bulls struck each others' throats with their teeth. Noses were flying everywhere. MC Hammer got backed into a corner and almost fell down into a gulch, where he very likely would have been trapped and killed. In fact, he had killed another male in the same fashion several years ago. For a few minutes, we thought we were about to watch MC get a dose of his own medicine.

It didn't get as far as that. Just as MC Hammer was teetering on the edge and we were completely absorbed in the moment, something huge came out of the periphery. Rusty barreled down from Sand Flat and started vocalizing at both of the other males. Immediately, both Herzog and MC Hammer turned around and took off. Herzog dashed up onto the rocks above Mirounga Beach while MC Hammer ran back down to his own harem.

Rusty chased MC through Mirounga Beach and out to the water, where we saw some huge splashes as they continued fighting under water. Finally, MC Hammer was defeated. Rusty took a break in Mirounga Beach and then headed back to patrol Sand Flat as usual. When one of my coworkers returned to the beach during Superbowl half-time, everything seemed back to normal and all of the males were back in their usual places as if nothing had happened. But we had a feeling that Herzog proved himself, and that maybe next year he will be the alpha male.

Unfortunately, we think that some of MC Hammer's defeats cause him to displace his aggression on other animals. Similarly to what we witnessed last year, this brute killed several pups in his own harem this year - some of them likely to be his own offspring. He seems to go after the fattest pups just before they wean, maybe because they get in the way when he's trying to mate with their moms, or maybe he just sees them as an unnecessary threat or annoyance in his harem. One morning we walked out to Mirounga Beach to see MC Hammer laying on a newly weaned pup that he had killed earlier, right after his protective mother left it to go back out to sea. Another weaner managed to narrowly escape from Mirounga Beach with several extremely deep tooth gashes on his neck and back. Luckily, the wounds seem to be healing pretty well and we have at least one success story from this unfortunate seal family.

Things are a lot jollier over on Sand Flat. We had one superweaner - a pup that refused to be weaned from his milk when his mother left. After he was left alone, he managed to find another cow whose pup had died only a couple of weeks into its life. He nursed from his second mother for another two weeks, growing to enormous proportions. He seems to be the big bully of his weaner pod.

Superweaner with his second adoptive mom

Superweaner (left) with a regular weaner (right)

Superweaner trying to find his back end

The weaned pups are starting to aggregate in little clumps away from the last remaining cows and bulls. They spend a most of time sleeping and snuggling together for warmth and protection and the rest of their time playing together. They are quite loud when they're awake, squawking and clucking and growling at each other - elephant seals must have one of the most amazing ranges of vocalizations for a marine mammal on land. There are plenty of endearing moments to watch.

Weaner trio playing and vocalizing

Swimming lessons in a puddle

Muddy whiskers

Weaner pod

One of the weaners from Sand Flat went off on a journey up to the grassy terrace above the harem. He managed to get halfway up towards the house before he decided it was cozy and safe enough to snuggle in for a week's worth of sleep. We love looking for his plump little body hiding in the grass on our way to the seal colony every morning, but hope that he'll find his way back to the sea alright when the time comes for his first foraging trip a month or two from now.

With the season slowing down - the Farallon winter season wraps up in only 3 weeks - I'm desperately trying to take it all in. I've been watching the last of the cows tend to their ballooning pups before they finally leave the harem for the sea.

I try to spend some time every day watching some of the other marine mammals that frequent the island, like the magnificent Steller sea lions...

Group of resting Stellers, with pup scratching in foreground

... and the unbearably adorable Pacific harbor seals....

... some of which are starting to show up pregnant! (harbor seals pup in May-July)

... as well as the shorebirds like the very amusing, very vocal black oystercatcher...

... and some of the invertebrate intertidal residents, like the red abalone...

... and a monkeyface eel, found under a rock crevice guarding a huge mass of eggs!

Can you find the eel face? Photo by JJ

... And of course, trying to enjoy all of the silly moments with my coworkers. After a wonderful Saturday evening of delicious food, wine, and a game of Balderdash, I'm spent. Good night and thanks for reading!

Farallon Time

Time takes on a completely different essence when you're living on an isolated island. You'd think that it goes by unbearably slowly, with no distractions other than our wildlife cohabitants. On the contrary - time seems to fly by in our Farallon world. I realize that it's been more than 2 weeks since my last blog post. The twice-monthly salamander surveys seem to come around almost every week. The twice-weekly elephant seal censuses, conducted each Thursday and Sunday, feel like a day apart. And shower day - a blessing that comes only once every four days - feels like almost every other day.

The passing of time brings changes to the island that seem almost imperceptible to our daily life, except once in a while when we stop to realize them. The rains a few weeks ago have made the vegetation spring up almost shin-high. Seabirds, which breed on islands in the spring, are starting to change into showy plumage. The grey whales, which were passing by the island in droves a few weeks ago (the high count was 42 greys seen during a 3 hour survey!) on their way to Mexico, are trickling off, most of them having already made it to their breeding grounds. And the elephant seal pups are growing up fast. Seven have already weaned, their mothers having nursed them for four weeks, been impregnated by the alpha males, and returned to forage in the sea. As the pups have been ballooning, the cows seem to be deflating, and several of them look so haggard that it's hard to imagine them sticking around an extra day to keep feeding their giant babies. It is truly amazing that these animals spend over a month without any food whatsoever, expending extraordinary amounts of energy not just feeding, but also constantly protecting their pups. Once the cows are gone, the weanlings, known colloquially as 'weaners', stick around on land for at least a month until they figure out that they need to go into the sea to eat. They spend a lot of time sleeping, running away from cows, getting out of the way of randy males, learning to swim in shallow puddles, and play-fighting in small groups. They're a joy to watch as they bounce around, hardly able to keep from rolling over on the rocky terrain.

A weaner starting to molt his baby coat

First weaner finds a playmate in a one year old seal

Two weaners playing

Being able to watch the same elephant seal colony for several years in a row is an amazing experience. Most ellies come back to the same beaches where they were born to have their own pups, and it's really cool to see so many familiar faces. There is Marble Eye, a cow who has lost one of her eyes but is one of the most attentive, protective mothers on Sand Flat. There is Dooneese, whose growling call is so unique that we can identify her by sound alone. I can often hear her distinctive growl from my bed as I am falling asleep at night or waking up at dawn. There is Babushka, a cow named for Russian nesting dolls due to its similar rotund shape. There was Alizabeth, a cow that abandoned her pup last year after nursing it for two weeks, leaving it to slowly starve. This year, she was one of the first cows to have a pup, and she stayed with it for almost 30 days, leaving behind a fat, healthy weanling. And then there are all the males: big alpha Rusty - commanding yet gentle, mean old MC Hammer, young Herzog vying for an alpha spot, old Rumplestiltskin trying to gain back territory lost years ago. The animals really do have individual differences in behavior and what one could cautiously call 'temperament' and it's fascnating to be able to study them year after year. By tagging seals with hindflipper tags with specific numbers and keeping thorough records of every time (and place) that the tags are seen, we contribute to an immense, incredibly valuable database of individuals within a marine mammal subpopulation that spans over 30 years of research.

Marble Eye

Babushka bonds with her pup

Dooneese's pup sniffs the air

Unfortunately, the time when the pups start weaning is also a pretty turbulent time for the colony. Cows become receptive for mating a day or so before they leave the colony behind, and males jostle for the chance to impregnate them, running over anything and everything in their path. Pups get run over and squished to death. The high density in the colony at this time means that the cows are extra alert and protective of their own pups, attacking anything that comes remotely close. This means not only other cows and unwanted males, but also any pups that accidentally get in their way. Younger cows are not as experienced and may be unable to protect their pups. When males charge through the colony to protect the harem, cows and pups get separated and sometimes never find each other. The pups might become abandoned, starving to death or being bitten to death by other cows. Sometimes an abandoned pup finds a surrogate mother who has lost her own pup. On rare occasions, a lost pup will try to nurse from a cow with her own pup who surprisingly tolerates it. Unfortunately, such 'adopted' pups are often forced out by their fatter 'siblings' and don't end up surviving. So far, we've watched two abandoned pups die, one from blood loss from horrible bite wounds to the nose and the other from starvation and trampling. One of the worst experiences for me this season was watching gulls go after the wounds and eyes of the dying pups while they were still alive. It took several days for me to recover from the horrific sight. Another pup was separated from his mom after 2 weeks of happy nursing, and was bitten, body-slammed, and rolled over repeatedly by a frustrated subadult male at the periphery of the colony. We watched the pup struggle to breathe for several days, using all his energy to try to wriggle free from under the male, before he finally passed away. Surprisingly, his mother did nothing to try to protect the pup. She spent those awful days peacefully sleeping several feet away. Yesterday, we found her nursing a pup that was weaned several days ago from another cow. Perhaps one sad loss will turn into a big gain - a superweaner! Such greedy pups can grow up to 600 lbs (normal weaners are 250-300 lbs) after nursing from several moms.

A tiny pup caught between some cranky cows

A lost pup (left) tries to steal milk from a foster cow with one of her own

A cow displays displeasure at a male coming too close

Superweaner in the making with his second mom

High-density breeding grounds are brutal places. I've heard stories of gull chicks being eaten by their neighbors and common murre chicks being thrown off cliffs. If an animal is to pass on its genes, it has to protect them with all of the energy it has, and this often results in major aggression. But if ecosystems are to remain in healthy balance, there must be death to sustain more new life. It's hard to watch the death from such a close range, but we also get to see amazing, thriving, incredible wildlife, often at arm's reach. We can often hear little pups suckling and smacking and slurping as they nurse from their moms from where we are able watch them. A few times last week, I was surprised to come within 5 feet of a gorgeous peregrine falcon sitting on the trail up to the lighthouse. It was the closest that I've ever been to a falcon out here and it was absolutely breathtaking. During a boat landing a couple of weeks ago, a brown pelican followed the boat up to the landing and sat down a few feet away from us. Naturally, no one present had a camera with them, but it was amazing to see this enormous beautiful bird at such close range. During the same boat landing, a grey whale surfaced to breathe almost right under the crane. I've managed to creep up close enough to a harbor seal haulout without being seen a few times to catch some really good shots of these beautiful animals. During our trip to census the marine mammals at the wild and protected West End of Farallon Island, we climbed a rocky slope and almost tripped over some fur seals sleeping peacefully at the top. We found 75 salamanders during our survey yesterday, up from only 15 individuals seen two weeks ago before the rains. It was such a hectic survey that at one point, someone was trying to juggle 6 salamanders in their hands! These close wildife encounters keep our spirits high in between the death and brutality that we witness out here. Naturally, we make every possible attempt to avoid being seen by the animals, and try to avoid disturbing them at any cost. Most of my close-up photos were taken with a telephoto lens.

New life!

A harbor seal stretches

Peregrine falcon

Fur seal pups

A brown pelican at dawn

A grey whale surfaces during boat landing

A handful of salamanders

A falcon takes flight

A harbor seal tastes the air

Handling a salamander

It's hard to believe that we're more than halfway through our field season already. Before we know it, the cows will all be gone and Sand Flat will return to a quiet, peaceful haven for immature seals and overweight weaners. I dare say that I am starting to miss quite a few things about the mainland... But as soon as I hear the pups squawking from my bedroom, or see a peregrine falcon swoop directly over my head, or feel the sea spray on my face, I can't help but wish that time would slow down.

Pelicans fly by the island, with view of Point Reyes in background

A Western gull sentry