We’re strolling California beaches this week, to appreciate the northern elephant seal, another seasonal migrant.
Once you’ve seen a two- to three-ton male swing his fire-hose of a nose and bellow as he chest-bumps the next guy, just to impress the gals and win mating rights—well, you won’t ask how the species got its name. Don’t even think about getting between two fighting males, or a male and his females. Or between moms and their big babies. Also: No taking selfies, or any up-close shot. Keeping a distance of at least 100 feet offers reasonable respect. Elephant seals are much faster than they look, and can be fierce.
If at all possible commune with these wild things during winter mating and pupping season, though here and elsewhere along the coast you’ll see at least some of these huge seals year-round. In late spring and summer, for example, they haul onshore to molt, looking pretty ragged while completely regrowing their hair and skin. There’s nothing quite like that first glimpse—hundreds of these huge seals tucked into the sand dunes, tossed together like so many blotchy WWII torpedoes.
Año Nuevo State Park just north of Santa Cruz is the largest northern elephant seal rookery, where the seals’ comeback began in California. But there’s a good population at Point Reyes in Marin County and also, south of Big Sur, along six miles of beach at Piedras Blancas near Hearst Castle and San Simeon. Advantages of the San Simeon site: At last report you won’t need to make reservations or take a shuttle.
The northern elephant seal is the largest pinniped (fin-footed mammal) in the Western Hemisphere. It spends most of its life, up to 10 months a year, alone. Hunted to the edge of extinction for their oil-rich blubber, northern elephant seals numbered as few as 20 to 100 individuals by the early 1900s. These last few survivors lived on an island off the west coast of Baja California. Then, in the1920s, Mexico protected them, and the U.S. followed suit. Seals began migrating north. In the 1950s, a few arrived at Año Nuevo Island, attracted to its rocky safety. The first pup was born on the island in the 1960s. By 1975 the mainland dunes had been colonized. By 1988, 800 northern elephant seals were born on the mainland rookery. Now the total known population is 150,000 to 170,000—about its pre-hunting size—and extends north and south along the coast.
Male northern elephant seals start arriving in mid-December. They spend much of their time lying about as if dead, in or out of the water, often not even breathing for up to a half hour. None too exciting for us voyeurs. But: When two males fight—only the alphas get reproduction duty—the loud, often bloody nose-to-nose battles are something. Arching up, heads back, canine teeth bared, ready to tear flesh, the males bellow and bark and bang their chests together, giving it all they got.
In January mature females start to arrive, giving birth within days. For every two pounds in body weight a pup gains, its mother loses a pound. Within 28 days, she loses about half her weight, then, almost shriveled, abruptly leaves. Her pup, about 60 pounds at birth, weighs 300 to 500 pounds at this point.
Here’s the amazing part: Although inseminated before leaving the rookery, the scrawny mom is in no condition for another pregnancy, so conception is delayed for several months, allowing the female to feed and rest and regain strength before another reproductive round. Good plan!
