Sealed Fate – Part 1

This is a multi-part story. Read part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | epilog

Day 1. 1 pm, July 18. I put Adventure in neutral and drift slowly toward the mooring ball as Sean reaches the boat hook over the bow to grab the metal ring. I hurry forward to help pull up the barnacle-covered chain and tackle and slip our line through the ring. This is when I first catch a glimpse. Something is in the water near the mooring ball.

As many of you, I am a nature-lover. I’m super excited when I see wild animals, birds, insects, and even microscopic organisms that live in the ocean. So, when I see a little nose and whiskers poke out of the water right next to the boat, it captures my entire attention. Time seems to slow. My pupils dilate to sharpen the image. I only hear the sound of my increasing heartbeat and the gentle splash of the water falling from — a baby seal’s face. Yes, a BABY seal! The moment is burst by a sharp exclamation for me to help with the rope.

Once we are securely moored, I hurry aft to turn off the engine. Sean goes below to recover from our days sail and mooring activity and I return to the bow in hopes of catching another glimpse of the baby seal. There he is, almost like he is waiting for me, hanging onto our mooring ball! His little paws are so cute!

We are in Pelican Bay on Cypress Island in the Salish Sea. There is one other boat on a mooring ball far from us. I watch the pup for a while and take lots of photos and videos, then go below. While eating lunch, we hear moaning noises that sound a bit like our hydraulic autopilot as it moves to adjust course. Looking over the side of the boat, we see the pup rubbing along the side of our boat and making cuddle sounds. This little guy is trying to nurse our boat! He is hungry!

He works his way to the back of our boat and then tries to get up on our swim step. He’s too small and weak to make it. But he keeps trying and crying out. I’m catching a clue that he’s in distress. He’s clearly hungry and needs a place to get out of the water for a while. The beach is only a few hundred feet away, but he didn’t seem to understand that is an option. And where is his mother? This is when I start stressing. I can see no other seals in the area. He needs his mommy! Is she just gone for feeding and will be back? There are orcas here that feed on seals. Was that her fate? Or did she just abandon her pup?

Sean says to relax and let nature take its course. But his approach to this struggling baby seal does not sit well with me. I tell him, “Not on my watch!” and immediately think of a photo I took of a sign posted on Watmough Bay about what to do if you see a stranded sea mammal. I grab my phone to find the photo with the info. The sign had a lot of information, including this part that seems to back up Sean’s let-nature-take-its-course mentality:

“San Juan County has a very health population of harbor seals. Every summer, hundreds of pups are born on area beaches and islands. Mortality for these pubs can be high – not all of them are going to survive the weaning process and grow to become adult seals. This is nature’s way of keeping the seal population at a sustainable level.”

This doesn’t sound super positive for arranging a rescue, but determined, I call the phone number listed. A nice woman at the San Juan County Marine Mammal Stranding Network says we should leave it alone and to check back with them tomorrow if the mother doesn’t show up.

That night, we were awoken every time it grunts. The hull acts like a microphone that amplifies the noise. Sometimes in marinas, we can even hear the clicking of barnacles. So, imagine now the sound of a desperate baby seal grunting with its mouth against our hull. It is a rough environment for sleeping, so I lay awake, willing the mother seal to return for her pup.

Read part 2.