The Chosen Ones

The time has come, I think, to talk about my favorite animal. (Before I continue I should say that my favorite pet is by far the dog, but that's domestic so it doesn't count.) There are so many things about the Elephant Seal that I love. I expect that the only reason more people don't list the elephant seal as their favorite animal is simply lack of exposure. Experiencing an elephant seal is like experiencing John Cage's 4'33", you must be in the proper frame of mind to realize its significance.

First of all, How I came across the elephant seal: My nuclear Buffalonian family was on vacation with the Californian leg of the family, visiting this little coastal town outside of San Luis Obispo (itself a little coastal town). We were primarily engaged in relaxing, catching up with each other, and entertaining my cousin Lily who was about eight years old at the time. Lily was a precocious and curious girl who was not surprisingly interested in animals and nature and kid-science stuff of that sort. Someone got the idea of visiting an elephant seal “rookery” because one (of a handful along the Pacific coast) happened to be nearby. When we got there I instantly fell in love, and only a powerful hunger finally tore me away.

About elephant seals. The main characteristic of elephant seals is that they are gigantic. I believe they can weigh up to three tons. THREE TONS OF SEAL. The males have these hideous growths on their faces which, combined with their size, somewhat give them a likeness to your usual non-seal elephant. Due to their size they have few natural predators. (There was a picture at the rookery of a seal who had survived an attack from a great white shark. I am under the impression that a normal animal does not usually survive an attack from a great white shark.) Sometimes they fight each other, and the weird snout-growth thing gets an even more mangled and bizarre appearance. They can hold their breath for up to two hours, and can dive a mile underwater. Their life cycle, possibly the most luxurious in the whole animal kingdom, is as follows: 9 months of the year they swim and eat, 3 months of the year they lie on the beach and mate. That’s it, only two appointments to keep each year: eat-time and mate-time. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.

The elephant seal experience. (See for yourself LIVE on webcam!) Elephant seals smell bad. Really bad. We went during molting season, which was an extra spectacle because the sand was brown from all the dried, flaked-off skin that had been ground under dozens of seal-rollers into a beach that would gag anyone standing downwind. Elephant seals, though massive, do not make an impressive noise. I was expecting bellows that would trumpet across the seashore. Instead they make a low grumbling/bubbling sound, like a giant flooded engine trying to start or a giant milk jug glugging out milk. Elephant seals are remarkably lazy. The tide was coming in, and most of the seals couldn’t be bothered to shimmy 10 feet up the beach until they were clearly going to be drowned if they stayed put. Eventually I could hear them say “FINE! DAMN you!” as they hunched and rolled their blubber up the shore until they were out of the waves’ way, and promptly passed out from a hard day’s work. With a hand on my heart, I bowed to the most inspiring display of laziness I think the animal kingdom has ever known: the entire life of the elephant seal. If I get a next life, and I get to choose what it will be, I believe this to be my calling.

Elephant seals are proof of evolution if ever there was one. No God would plan on such a creature, but there it is, all three tons of it lolling majestically in a perfect evolutionary niche. I imagine God is pleased, though, because if He wanted to get rid of them they would be a pretty slow-moving target. Actually, more like an immobile target. Even the weakest of lesser deities could exterminate a species that sleeps on an open beach for three months every year. God is probably as amused by elephant seals as I was. (Which, I should conclude with, was more amused than the eight year old. As I said, it takes a discriminating eye to appreciate the subtleties of these mountains of blubber and stink.)