The Seal Man

R.T. Carr, Editor, The Seal Man

Chapter 1: The Narrative

(1)
I am a SEAL, or more accurately I've discovered a SEA LION. I have always been one and will always be to my last breath. Mistakenly the higher power made me a man first. But it was with a realization that the religious would call an 'epiphany' that I felt a kinship with my water loving brothers and sisters. I was out fishing in a skiff on the San Francisco Bay off of Angel Island on the Marin side. I saw what I mistakenly believed

(2)
to be a dog swimming in the water! My boat mate spit and said it was a garrulous creature called a 'SEAL'. He muttered that he hated them, for when a SEAL came around one's line, the fish were gone, either eaten or scared away. I was shocked to see it was his professed desire to shoot one of these gentle creatures. He would have had he brought a gun, of this I have no doubt. As it was with a great flailing of his arms and then picking up

(3)
and brandishing an oar, he made threatening gestures to the creature, who rolled onto its back, looked up with great sad eyes and a whiskered snout, snorted daintily, and then gracefully turned in an arc in the water. It paid no attention it its attacker. He (or was it a she?) was a free soul, this SEAL. As free as I would be if I was not saddled with the responsibility of this life: work, obligations familial and pursuit of a profession that

(4)
would if I let it be my 'life's work', be a most unexciting experience, lacking in any stimulation entirely. Oh to have to just fish for what I needed to eat at the time! Not wishing to irritate my companion, I made no comment except for silence, but I found myself secretly waving as my new friend came to the surface and snorted. Blowing a spray of water out of its snout. Gracefully arching its back once again, it was gone. It

(5)
had done what my fishing partner professed, because the fishing ceased abruptly, my new friend having eaten or scared away all the fish. Now I do not vainly try to associate myself with these creatures, but one of my family surnames from long ago was 'SEALS'. I was called ______ S.(For SEALS) and then my last name. I shall withhold my surname since I have foresworn the use of it. I abandon it not to

(6)
save my family, such as they are, from embarrassment. They have as little use for me as I them. I was not perceived as a Ne'er Do Well, but rather they felt I was always aiming beneath my station. I took great joy in the mundane things of life, preferring to work with my hands and create, however mundane a creation. I found bliss in peeling potatoes, or picking corn, or repairing a broken chair. Though I did read, it was of a

(7)
more scientific bent. I did not behave as a gentleman. My family is quite well fixed and if I told you the name you'd recognize it, I do not doubt. Suffice it to say I was born with, literally a silver spoon in my teeth. I had been under a great deal of [Editor's note: I will preserve his intention and not divulge the surname. Having made this decision, I was allowed access to a number of documents to be discussed later...but you would recognize the name!] pressure to swear off my usual habits and demeanor, and to even seek a spouse! Not to criticize the local pulchritude, but it seems to me the women I was urged-nee required to pursue,

(8)
were on a sliding scale of unattractiveness concurrent to the amount of their wealth. I was urged to 'marry well', but not wisely, I felt. I tried, but it was no use. I am too nervous to be a spouse and it would be a nightmare to find myself thus married, my sleep patterns not of a domestic sort. I am moody at times and tend to be buried in my thoughts and projects quite frequently. I lack that part of man that wants a home, has a

(9)
spouse and dutifully spawns a brood, all while working at a profession. I do not denigrate others, it is just not for me. As for a bit of background, my family had come from the Great East, not so much for the lure of the Gold, but for the profit to be generated from those who actually worked it and wrested it from the ground, or sluiced it up from the rivers, or washed it out of the hills. Hard to believe it was just under 14

(10)
years ago, that I arrived in the company of my Father, seeing this bustling Gold Rush town for the first time. I was a lad of fourteen in 1850 with a vision that somehow I managed to misplace along the way. At the time I would have only been too happy to follow in my Fathers path, and been quite content. Perhaps I am a bit spoiled by now. I was placed in an academy while my Father went about his business. My school was run

(11)
by two prissy souls from the east who looked over their noses at us constantly, and sometimes not over their spectacles. My classmates were a rough hewn sort, that were in that awkward age of not yet being considered ready to be a grownup and yet too old to be a kid. Our economic position was unmistakable to our schoolmasters and thus we were allowed a few liberties, but I do say that they may have been tedious, but

(12)
they taught me the rudiments of a gentlemanly nature of conduct. I was expected to wear a tie and a jacket and shoes to school. I would see children almost my age on their way to San Francisco's public schools less formally dressed. I envied rather than looked down upon them. Punishment was strict and rapid, mostly by way of ruler on knuckles which I felt a few times and knew it to hurt. I was drilled in a

(13)
few classic languages, but it was of the sort of teaching where one parroted back what was taught. My memory was not as sharp as some, but I suffered less than a few who were not as acute. Behavior was not a question in this atmosphere. Since we were treated like young gentlemen, that is how we acted. A few of us ran away to the Gold Fields, some coming back with wild tales of wine and women, largely gleaned from too

(15)
scurrilous a literary work, no doubt. We met at a little place just near the school occupying a back room in it. Though only being served sarsparilla we savored it like beer. I was invited to only a few of these occasions though, since I lacked the ability to enthrall. I don't think this was out of cruelty on their parts, just an accurate reading of my nature, which found that sort of talk uncomfortable. I think it was thought

(16)
and supposed that I was a good listener, which opened a few doors to me initially, but served me no purpose when it was perceived that I really didn't follow too well, and was off on daydreams of my own, which I could not, or perhaps would not divulge, these matters seeming private to me. I especially did not like exams, almost as much as public speaking, which I loathed. I suppose I would have done better had I applied myself to some degree, but I was

(17)
alas, average, not exceptional. Since there were others who did worse I did not fare too badly with my instructors, and one learned not to copy off my paper, if one wanted the right answer. There were others who had them aplenty. Some of whom now are leading lights in the city and up at the State Capitol. I did like natural science, most particularly lepidoptra and some of the small furry creatures, such as rabbits. I kept them

(18) at home, much to the displeasure of my father, and was heart broken when one died, inconsolable to say the least. I liked the butterfly, but only when it was alive. I could not use the kill jar. I just didn't have the heart, so I had no collection to show. I couldn't imagine buying them already mounted either. The thought of a pin piercing them made me ill. Things civilized a bit when my Mother and Sister were to

(19)
follow about three years later. I really missed my dear sister, whom some would call comely. She had the same hair as Mother, long and light brown. I have a lock of it in my possession, as well as Mother's, which was streaked with gray, but beautiful nonetheless. Both women were petite, my mother tending towards Powder Pigeon with an imposing front end accentuated by her customary dress, which had her clothing

(20)
gathered at the waist. My sister is a year older than I and much smarter by many years. She was patient even as a youngster, always most considerately listening to my dreams and aspirations, not being too critical, and simply listening to me in an attentive manner. My Father used their arrival as an excuse to create a mansion on one of those hills overlooking the bay [Editor's note: If this is described any further you would recognize it, since remnants of it still stand. I have edited out a rather good description of its location. Suffice it to say it was grandiose and...] which my Father used to entertain his business

(21)
colleagues, as well as display his great wealth in what was considered to be a proper fashion. I found it all distasteful. Such was the wealth generated that we had a large house, more estate than house, at the location I described earlier overlooking the bay, which had filled with ships rapidly in the few years we had lived there already. You'd think it a busy harbor, and it was, but once arrived a large percentage remained,

(22)
abandoned for pursuits in the hills and the lure of bright metal. Perhaps it was the academy that molded me, but I had no desire to go after the Golden Bounty. I had no desire to go into my fathers business, and not the knack for it besides. I might have had the itch for it for a little while, but it was a safe comfortable, though deadly dull niche in which I was being placed. I had graduated the academy, but did not apply myself well

(23)
enough to be fit for a higher education, Mother wanting me to go to Harvard, or any other Eastern School. My Masters at the Academy pronounced me as unsuitable, and thus it was decided that I should go into the family business. It sounded like a good idea, but that was concept not practice, since I was placed in charge of a large counting room, and not actually allowed to start learning what we did and how we did it. A

(24)
counting room only keeps track of a largely cash business in that it counts what is collected at point of sale of whatever the commodities might be. This faded in a short while but I am told many actually paid in gold flakes, but it was largely gold and silver coin by the time I entered our concern. There were people working under me, toiling more accurately, more than several years my senior who knew a great deal more

(25)
than me. I was expected to walk in and be in charge of the whole operation about which I knew nothing and cared just as much. I camped in my office, and they did it all. I barely knew their names. I did not grind them or even pester them to learn, such was my lassitude. They didn't seem to mind, at least from what I saw, I suppose since I was the Boss' son and therefore to be humored. I was expected to be an idiot, I feel. I did a

(26)
good job of that. I chafed under this situation, often absent or tardy with some imagined illness or trumped up errand. I was on one of my little truancies, and actually out on the Bay with the son of one of my Junior Clerks, a man of 50, when I first saw my first wild seal. I had casually seen Seals in Circuses and Variety shows, but there was no comparison to the creature in its natural element. I resolved to learn everything I

(27)
could about the creatures, acquiring books, pamphlets, and news clips in short order. It was noted that my attendance was improved at work. I was given a raise in pay, which I added to the others envelopes when I thought of it. The only reason my attendance had so improved was that no one bothered to disturb my inner sanctum, and I found it a great place to study. I did come to the realization that I was not a poor student, just

(28)
a dullard if not motivated. My good attendance was soon to lapse when I started to allow myself the odd morning off to go look at the creatures, just North of Ocean Beach. There was a Seal Rock just off of the Cliff House Restaurant, and a number of other places of amusement and attractions to draw people. I discovered on my first sojourn to the cliffs a man who had spyglasses on tripods, which would allow

(29)
the observer the opportunity to look down at the beach or the pounding surf, or to look just over to Seal Rock. I was beside myself with delight, and I'm afraid I made rather a pest of myself that first day, paying the little fellow a good deal to monopolize one of his contraptions. I vowed to order one, if need be, from the East, and have it shipped around the Horn post haste. My speculation proving true, there being no telescope suited

(30)
to my requirements, until I actually received the item I continued to squander a tidy sum just to gaze upon these wonderful water denizens. My 'Telescope' arrived as a kit, just a pile of odd parts and a set of plans. I was delighted to assemble the contraption and found it to be superior in construction, magnification and clarity of the views I was (usually) afforded. My former' supplier' was a bit put out at first, but was much relieved

(31)
when he realized my new 'scope' was for my use only, and I was no way competition. Actually he was quite friendly to me, and inquisitive about my new whizbang, even though it would mean a loss of income to himself. I would no longer be a client, but by his reaction I suppose he thought of me as a friend! It was a good feeling to note this, and somewhat of a surprise. I do not, you may have gathered, make friends easily.

(32)
My pattern (for what is a creature without pattern?) was to make my vigil 3 weekday mornings, and Sunday, with literally almost all the rest of the time spent in avid study. I was out Rain or Shine, Fog or Sun and soon became a part of the background. A strolling vendor once of Italy took to offering me his wares, since it became obvious to him that I hardly ever ceased using my scope. So I had a lemonade in a returnable bottle and a good

(33)
peasant sandwich he called a 'hero', and sometimes a piece of fruit. I suppose I was good for my friends' business, since out of habit I set up just next to his array of telescopes, and thus it would be perceived to a passer by that I was a customer, and obviously having a grand time. So it was I was allowed certain measure of time for my observations. I began tracking my friends in a loose leaf journal bought for that purpose

(34)
I began my observations in earnest, discovering in short order that I was no scientist, even if my mind was bent in that direction. I lacked something basic to the scientific process, perhaps I cared too much, had no cold logical reasoning. I abandoned any scientific pretense at least on paper. I even took to identifying them by giving them pet names based on their personality. Before I gave up my scientific entries, I had

(35)
observed 2 distinct species: the SEA LION, which have visible ears and are quite vocal and the SEAL which do not have visible ears, though with my new scope I could pick up slits where the ears would be, and which do not produce sounds, just what could be described as grunts. I was able to observe an anomaly the first two weeks of my vigil. There was a family group obviously resting on its way south to the calving grounds off

(36)
Santa Barbara. They numbered 12 and took over the most of the rock, though not with much challenge, since the leaders were quite large. I would estimate at least above 500 pounds or more, the male slightly larger than the female. I imagined the two biggest ones to be 'married' since they obviously were in charge of their group and the rock as well. The group of Focae (Latin for SEALS) were of the SEA LION variety, One very large

(37)
profound male, 2 younger males possibly sons, in my view, 3 pups, probably about a year old, and 6 cows (A prodigious herd!). There was one of the cows quite large that I took to calling Queen Victoria, only because of her royal bearing and not her prodigious size! No criticism is made of that grand lady of Britain, but they seemed a great deal alike, at least in my humble view. I was attracted to the behaviors and the demeanor

(38)
of these wonderful, powerful creatures. My 'notes' had become so much gibberish, I stopped doing it, preferring to address them quietly as I viewed them, making up whole scenarios as if I had actual communication with them. I had observed that they had a 'language' amongst themselves. I could see them 'talk' and snort, and the whole world could hear them bark, if the colony was disturbed in any fashion. They were large

(39)
and cumbersome on the land and like lightning in the water, I had observed only infrequently, since they slept most of the time. There were a few other types of seal and sea lion on the rock, one small and brown with almost the look of a faun; another that seemed oily and black with prominent whiskers on its snout. There also was a contingent of aquatic bird species, mostly gulls. My group would become

(40)
agitated if one swooped in and took a fish, but otherwise they seemed to coexist amiably. I suppose it would be fruitless to argue with something that large! Since they slept in the day, my assumption was that these creatures were nocturnal. I vowed to get a closer look at least, and if practical, at night. Comparing their behavior as I observed them in their daily life with what the books said brought me to the conclusion

(41)
that the writers of these pieces were telling tales and probably even had not observed them at all. This went on for several months. With the coming Spring the days were calm, the water less choppy. I vowed to spend as much time as I could moored offshore in order to try to learn their 'language' as best I could. In plain point of fact I wanted to get closer to them. This could be a bit perilous, since this is not the Bay out there, but the

(42)
less than 'pacific' Pacific Ocean. Waves and currents off Ocean Beach are treacherous. Often I have observed lifeguards bravely enter the surf to save unwitting swimmers and people who were merely wading and were swept off their feet by the currents and into the undertow. The area was quite the tourist spot, both in natural scenic attractions, and of course the feminine gender in their sunbathing costumes. There

(43)
were variety performers who did stunts to attract the crowds. 2 Examples come to mind: The first was thrilling to all, including me. A man jumped into a basket suspended below a gas balloon, attached to a reel of stout rope, played out from the back of a sturdy wagon. Up, up, up it went to a dizzying height. But that was not all of the show. When the rope had all been played out, his partner on the ground shot off a

(44)
loud starting pistol, for it was too far away for the daredevil to hear a shout, I suppose. And then we saw him. The man had jumped out of the basket! A collective Gasp ensued from those of us on the ground. A fall to a certain death was imminent! About half the way down, a contraption strapped to the man's back open up and he floated down as calm as you please in perfect safety, much to the delight of the crowd that would cheer

(45)
mightily. The worst peril was if he landed in the surf, where a team of Stalwarts awaited the possibility of a hazardous rescue. As he came closer an insignia was visible advertising a nearby stands wares on the contraption. It was all an advertising trick, but thrilling nevertheless. The second example I detested, since he disturbed the home of my friends. From the roof of the Cliff House to the rock was stretched a rope,

(46)
which was made taut. This caused no end of consternation amongst the herd, the noise deafening carried along with the sea birds cawing to create a true cacophony of sounds. The acrobat appeared in tights, the same man that had stretched the rope the day before. He rode a velocipede down the line to the rock. His female partner proceeded to walk down the rope with a parasol for balance, with a rope tied to her waist, I

(47)
supposed for safety. These were courageous performers undoubtedly, since the winds were quite treacherous. I give them that. Their presence was so upsetting to my herd that some of the colony evacuated to safety, all except the King and Queen of the rock, I called him Zeus and her the aforementioned Victoria. Both performers would then jump on to the velocipede, and ride back up, being hauled by means of the rope brought down

(48)
earlier. The remainder of their act was to do tricks jumping rope, balancing with a pole, making a three high pyramid with 4 acrobats, all out on the rope suspended in the air between the Restaurant and the rock. The winds would once in a while catch a performer and dump them into the sea. A small flotilla of boats would rescue them and they'd be back on the rope in a trice. I'm sure it was good art, and effectively

(49)
perilous, but as I said I didn't like it one iota, since it disturbed my friends. I noticed when they removed their rope at the end of the week that the acrobat was taunting and very cocky around my friends. I wished they would have taken a bite out if him for his trouble. This really cemented my feelings for the animals. I had started to feel a kinship with them, very protective feelings being evident, since I automatically felt the

(50)
acrobats were attacking my family. And it was as I had perceived. I did see that first little seal I saw in the bay visit the rock on occasion. I had named her 'Sparkle' because of her deep eyes, and the evident sparks in there. She was a very handsome animal, if not beauteous by human standards. I rented a skiff with a small sail, and a stout little anchor, sailing out of our Golden Gate along several large beaches with cliffs

(51)
overhanging, finally coming around the point to the Seal Rock. I anchored to the seaward side, but soon found I was buffeted most annoyingly and moved to the beach side of the rock, with the Cliff House on the shore and the Rock betwixt me and the ocean. In fact it was a lot calmer on this inside track, the tide pulling steadily and with some force on my anchor. I was able to make myself unobtrusive to my friends by

(52)
keeping still, not making any sudden movements. I think they were smart enough to sense I was not hunting them, and so they seemed not to mind my presence. I was further convinced that all the observations I had read were to be placed in the trash. Perhaps it is the gentle climate, and the plentiful fish supply, as well as the natural shellfish in the bay, [Editors Note: The Bay was not polluted as it is now, a natural and plentiful supply of Crab. Lobster, and Crawfish abounded in the bay, as well as Cod, Salt Water Perch, and bottom feeding fish...] but these creatures,

(53)
though surely wild, would seem after my observations to be domesticated, at least in the family sense. I was able to observe the mating ritual close up, a sort of intertwining dance of upper body movement, and then a rather awkward on shore coupling with some huffing and puffing by both the Bull and the Cow. Now I know how the pups are procreated. I feel fortunate that I was not perceived as an intrusion to this activity. Not

(54)
that they seemed to have a care who was watching! They have a certain inhibition about such matters, doing what is in their nature. I envy them. It might seem revolutionary to say that if we all behaved in this manner, aside from public procreation of course, this would be preferable in many instances to the way mankind deals with one another presently. In any case it was a fascinating time for this observer.

[Editor's Note: The entry continues on, but I have declared a chapter end at this point, since the events that follow take this fellow out of the casual observation stage and into action.]

End of Chapter 1