Sunday, April 29, 2007

When his cage door opened, Astro the Steller sea lion took one
doe-eyed look at the cold, heaving seas off the Farallon Islands and
apparently thought: Uh ... no.

The pinniped's reluctance was a hiccup in an otherwise successful
outing Saturday by volunteers and staff of the Sausalito-based Marine
Mammal Center, who braved queasy seas to witness the fulfillment of
their labors of love.

"It's nice to be on a release and see the animals out there," said
volunteer Karen Loida. "They're back out in the wild. They're back
serving their purpose, doing what they do."

The center has rehabilitated hundreds of animals each year since its
inception in 1975. But Saturday's voyage aboard the chartered fishing
vessel Superfish was notable in several ways.

One was the presence of eight northern fur seals, among the last of a
record 30 admitted this season, 22 of which survived.

Zombie, so named for coming in on Halloween last year, hopped quickly
from his cage and into the waves off Southeast Farallon Island,
followed by the other northern fur seals, who frolicked in the surf
before swimming away.

Their sleek appearance was a marked change from November, when pups
weighing half their normal birth weight began showing up at beaches,
to be rescued and nursed back to health by center staff and volunteers
using TLC and herring milkshakes.

Why so many strandings this season? Doreen Gurrola, the center's
assistant director of education, said possible causes that have been
explored and mostly excluded include domoic acid -- a naturally
occurring toxin particularly nasty this year -- and El Niño, blamed
for the last surge of strandings in 1998.

The mystery has not been solved, but the center will watch for a
pattern, said Deb Wickham, veterinary science operations manager.
"It tells a story. Why are these guys dying? There's something going
on," she said. "They're telling us what it is -- we just don't know
yet."

The center does not place tracking devices on northern fur seals as it
does on larger sea lions, and if the animals die, they are likely to
do so at sea, not close to land where they'll be found.

Those unknowns made watching the animals slide into the sea Saturday a
little nerve-racking for the center's volunteers, who give new depth
to the term "dedicated."

Shelbi Stoudt, who started as a volunteer before becoming the center's
stranding manager, has a small tattoo of a pinniped on her
wrist. Jenni James of Morro Bay quit her day job because it interfered
with her volunteer time.

And Diana Cherry, a volunteer since 1991, joined a conversation on
people's kids by breaking out wallet snapshots of Miercoles, the
California sea lion she saw born at the center on a Wednesday in 1998.
She was later able to visit Miercoles at Six Flags Discovery Kingdom
in Vallejo.

"She had a pup since then, so I'm a grandma," Cherry grinned. But, she
added, "This is not what we want, to have them locked up in some
zoo. I would love it much more if she was out there doing her thing."

The hope that their patients can return to a natural existence keeps
the volunteers and staff at the center from too many interactions with
the animals, as they train them to hunt live fish.

Some dangers can't be solved by training. In 2002, Swissy, a
rehabilitated California sea lion, entered the waves off the island
only to be immediately consumed by a great white shark, which attacked
the pinniped before the horrified eyes of her rescuers. The center has
since moved its release location to a more sheltered cove.

If Swissy was a worst-case scenario, there are successes like Artemis,
a Steller sea lion rescued in 1999 who was spotted in 2005 with a pup
of her own.

And then there is Astro.

He was rescued in June 2006, so young he carried part of his umbilical
cord. He was a rarity for the center, which had admitted just 21
Steller sea lions previously. On Wednesday, the center released him on
the beach at Año Nuevo State Park in San Mateo County.

"He was very confused. Very scared of waves," Loida said. "When the
first wave hit him, he would just run -- as much as a Steller sea lion
can run -- and he was following people up the beach."

Friday, the center corralled the perplexed pinniped and loaded him
aboard the Superfish the next day. He remained there as the northern
fur seals were released and the Superfish motored north toward North
Farallon Island -- ideally far enough from the mainland to discourage
a return to humankind.

But when his cage opened, Astro turned his back on the sea.

"Go join your pals," urged Mick Menigoz, captain of the Superfish.
Nothin' doing. Menigoz and Stoudt lifted the cage; Astro dug in with
all four flippers and refused to budge as the container tilted to a
45-degree angle.

Finally, with a mighty splash and a cheer from on deck, Astro entered
the water -- and vanished.

Everybody scanned the waves, trying to spot the animal among the
churning surf. Finally, Menigoz began motoring slowly away, as Stoudt
balanced on the stern, staring through borrowed binoculars at the
dozens of sea lions sunning on the island, searching for the one
packing his own satellite antenna.

She lowered the binoculars only when the island was out of sight.
"Well, he's with his own kind," she said, quietly. "Hopefully."

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This article appeared on page A - 1 of the San Francisco Chronicle