If this female could speak English, she might describe herself like this:

“Although I live in a harem, with about forty or fifty others, I am an extraordinary woman. Weighing between 1,200 to 2,000 pounds, some might call me pudgy, but I believe my weight is distributed quite nicely over my 10-foot long frame. My face is broad and round. Living near humidity keeps those tell-tale wrinkles away.  My hearing is exceptional, perhaps because I lack external ear flaps.  Rather than walk, I belly-flop-flop-flop, admittedly, a little ungainly. Every year and, rather abruptly, I replace all my hair and skin with a catastrophic molt. Hobbies? Swimming is my sport of choice. But, really, who has time for play when I give birth annually. Toddlers keep you busy, especially youngsters who are 75 pounds at birth and grow to 250-350 pounds in less than a month. Charisma? I’ve nailed it. People come from all over the world to see me. As Helen Reddy sang, ‘I Am Woman’. Definitely.”

An Elephant Seal Cow with her 75-pound-plus Baby

Four years ago, in January 2008, I registered for a five-day central California  Elderhostel program entitled “Four Great Migrations Converge: Elephant Seals, Whales, Birds and Butterflies.”

Being a birder, I know my birds but am shaky on sea and coastal species. And, I knew that Monarch butterflies, living South-of-the-Border, are the only insect that migrates 2,500 miles north each year to a warmer climate and eucalyptus tree groves. Having taken whale-watching cruises in Maui, I had learned about the Humpback’s migration to warmer waters to breed and give birth.

But, elephant seals?  Not in my vocabulary. No idea. A marine mammal? Hummm. (And, yes, I am totally embarrassed about my ignorance.)

Just hanging with the Harem at the Piedras Blancas rookery located near Cambria, California. Note the newborn.

Since that first January trip, I have returned each year, with grandchildren and friends in tow, to re-visit the Piedras Blancas rookery and the hundreds of ES who migrate there. The rookery is located on Highway 1, seven miles north of San Simeon and the Hearst castle where William Randolph used to hang out. Hunted to the brink of extinction by the end of the 19th Century, only 50 to 100 of them were left by 1892. Gracias to the Mexican government for giving protected status to the ES in 1922, followed by the U. S. granting the same a few years later. Today, there are approximately 160,000 northern ES.

You really haven’t  ever met an Alpha Male until you’ve come nose to proboscis with an ES bull.  Its proboscis, a sort-of-nose for “rebreathing”, is also employed to produce bellowing and hearty noises, especially during the mating season.  Talk about never leaving the couch, these characters rarely leave the beach to feed when their harem is in residence! You get the picture? Since bulls are sometimes 16 feet in length and weigh about 6,600 pounds, the cow’s bark is quieter and more reticent. Probably, that’s  “Yes, dear,” in ES-speak.

Life is Good for the Alpha Males.

The Elephant Seal’s Nose  by Mary Ciotkowski                               

Restoring Order on the Beach. Keeping the Women in Line.

The elephant seal’s nose

Is floppy and inflatable.

Most people say he’s homely

But I’d say that’s debatable

He weighs a ton or more

He settles where he pleases.

The beach is rather crowded,

So I hope he never sneezes.

Elephant seals spend about 80% of their lives in the ocean and, this is hard to believe, can hold their breath longer than any other non-cetacean mammals*, for more than 100 minutes. They can dive 5,000 feet beneath the ocean’s surface, but usually are content to stay at depths of 2,000 feet while searching for food. Their average life expectancy, both male and female, is 20 to 25 years.

The Piedras Blancas rookery is one of the largest mainland breeding colonies in the world. The area is open for viewing every day of the year with no admission fee or reservation required. According to the website, the total population for Piedras Blancas at the turn of the 21st century, as they come and go, was estimated to be around 8000 ES.

http://www.beachcalifornia.com/piedras.html

This past week-end, I returned to Cambria and, on a warm and wondrous Calli day, viewed  some of nature’s most magnificent creatures and experienced their joyful conservation success story. Hounded to the brink of extermination by humans, it’s only because of humans that ES were also able to replenish themselves.

A Cow with her new baby, born during our Sunday Visit to the Rookery.