They're back. Not the poltergeists. The sea lions. They're back,
they're fat, and they're honkin'. Everyone likes those laughable,
lovable clowns of the sea with the big flippers and the funny bark.
Everyone except the people who live near them, that is. As you know,
earlier this year, a gaggle of the noisy, seriously overweight sea
critters took a shine to a floating barge in Newport Harbor, and the
nonstop, round-the-clock honking drove most folks within earshot to
drink or tears or both. The barge belongs to the Pacific Fisheries
Enhancement Foundation and despite their best efforts to keep it
fenced in, locked up and off limits, the sea lions were always one
step and two honks ahead of them. The sea lions would disappear while
yet another barrier or lock was being installed and then clamber back
aboard before the locksmith got back to his truck. Sea lions are one
of the smartest mammals, comparable to dolphins and light years ahead
of Florida voters.
By late summer, the sea lions were large and in charge and acting
as if they owned the place. Bored with the barge, they moved onto
anything that floats, especially boats with swim steps. They love
boats with swim steps. Over Labor Day weekend, a rowdy group of the
big salty boys threw a major rager to celebrate the holiday on a
37-foot sailboat and sunk it under their collective weight. How many
sea lions does it take to sink a sailboat? Not many. Humans worry
about their waistlines. Sea lions do not. In fact, they don't have
waistlines. California sea lions weigh in at about 250 pounds for
girls and 750 pounds for boys. Their larger, more northern cousins,
the Steller sea lions, tip the scales at 750 to 1,500 pounds, with
the largest males weighing in at a ton or more. Don't call them
seals, by the way. That really hurts their feelings. They are cousins
to seals, who are much quieter I might add, but not true seals.
Greta Garbo may have wanted to be alone, but sea lions don't. They
are very social animals -- an unfortunate truth for anyone living
nearby. They love to lie around in large groups for hours on end at
one of their favorite "haul out" spots, which can be virtually
anything that floats. One of the their all-time fav spots is Pier 39
near San Francisco's Fisherman's Wharf, where more than 900 of them
can be seen at times, snuggling and honking up a storm. Eventually,
the boat owners and small businesses that were using the pier just
gave up and turned the whole area over to the sea lions, and it's now
