The Seal Man

R.T. Carr, Editor

Chapter 2 (Narrative continues where it left off)

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I saw a WAR today! A bull arrived with 3 cows, and four pups. I envisioned a gathering of harmonious souls, but very soon the 2 bulls were huffing and puffing at one another, extending to their full height and in general showing signs of distress and agitation. The actual fight started amongst the pups, a squabble over a fish. Then one of the cows made as if to bite one of the resident females. Meanwhile the intruder

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Bull rather than go to an unoccupied portion of the Rock, obviously had territory on his mind. It was not a sneak attack. Something that large does not sneak. It was a veritable battle of the Titans, my Zeus being put to the test by this interloper. The invader almost anticlimactically ended up being dumped into the water. He retreated as befit his status of defeat. One of the females elected to stay with the stronger male and made

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peace it seemed. She was the mother of the pup that had started the fight, I gathered since it stayed with her. This seemed forgotten almost immediately. So now the colony numbered 14. I left them to their new domestic bliss, returning the next day. Then a most surprising event, at least at first I was truly taken off guard. I set up my scope on shore that next morning and the entire colony was gone. I did remember that one of

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the experts said that to the south of us there were places where the mating ritual was carried on in earnest privacy. He also said this was part of the spring habit. I mused that perhaps the colony was just visiting the Rock, as a human tourist might occupy a cabin for a time and then just as suddenly be off to the next tour stop. By the following day, younger, or at least smaller, unattached males were gathering on the Rock. It then

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became a men only affair. 2 of the younger males had stayed, it seemed, Perhaps rejected by the old Bull? Perhaps just because they were ready to look aftter themselves. I did not see Sparkle, so I assumed her to be with those that had departed. I reminded myself after a bit of what may be called mourning that she was a free creature. I wondered if I'd ever see her again. Observing the male population was

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indeed interesting. It was a sort of an inactive team. I did notice, as the sun was going down, they became more active. I think their major activity was sleep, nevertheless. I spent more and more time out there, either in the skiff or watching on my 'scope' from the cliffs. I simply couldn't wait to go out there, business or no. I don't know how it happened, and still find it hard to believe, but I finally got up enough

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courage to quit the counting house. I told my family of my desire to 'study', and it was obvious to them that I had been doing that. My Father much to my surprise was delighted, since I think he was coming to the realization that I was a waste to his business. He still heaped a great helping of guilt on me at first, but then seemed to relent. They actually had little they could say, since I had several years earlier reached the age when a

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trust fund could be put in my control. Now at 28 I decided to exercise my option of control. There was a war of undercurrent feelings, since my family would not let it rest. Whenever they encountered me they would make it known that they were disappointed with me. My solution was to avoid contact. I saw them even less and less, until I had cut myself off from them entirely. It was not so much the job, but that other

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greater task that was assigned to me almost from birth, required nee demanded, that obligatory nuptials to a well fixed 'nice' girl. There was a sliding scale, it seemed to me. There was a measure of a beauty with no money, not being considered over a horse faced lass with a tidy nest egg. I just could not picture myself in a domestic situation, not being compatible to such activity. Even though persona non gratia a room was kept

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for me at the house, which I did use on some occasions. Once a month I went to get my monthly payment from the annuity, and soon even this chafed me. My solution was to rent a small space over on the bay over the water on one of the piers. It was a rickety affair and became for me a laboratory of sorts, and my permanent address. My annuity payment arrived by messenger monthly. It pained me greatly,

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this situation with my family. I missed particularly my sister's fond company. My needs to some would seem almost Monk -like. But what did I really need? Putting aside my physical needs, I had an idea of a way to get even closer to my friends. My landlords had gone off to the Gold Country and I was left virtually in charge of the pier which floated on barrels with the tide. There were four pilings holding up The whole

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contraption, which was loosely strung together with ropes, rode up with the high tide and down with the low. During periods of bad weather it creaked and groaned and thrashed about with a life of its own, but had survived. I had developed a few ideas that were worth consideration and experiment. I decided to implement them. It had to do with fishing, which I could do with great ease, either with a line or a spear. A

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sharpened pole worked effectively in the clear water of the bay. Whatever silt there is, is quite deep and the water when the light is right is fine for spearing good sized fish. A line with a stout sinker trailing a large sized hook is fine for bottom feeders. I was gong to use the fish for food, not for me, but for seals. My plan was to attract one, and then build a 'herd' of several, so I could study their habits and learn more closely by direct

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observation. I reasoned that a ready supply of food would attract them, and I had observed that at the wrong end of the tide when their lassitude was greatest, there was a possibility that I could attract and keep about at least a few to my pier. There was no commerce on it, since I was the only tenant and I did not foresee any difficulties. How I lacked in foresight is beyond measure. My enterprise, from a Sea Lion point of view

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was a huge success. So much so that I ended up being a slave to it all. I did have an overabundance of success that winter, my feeding project resulting in a plethora of the creatures, so much so that their combined weight caused us to ride very low on the water. This made an already perilous situation in time of inclement weather, all the more hazardous. The pier would let us know when it had had enough by a creaking

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sound that resulted in a mass exodus of the Sea Lion population. When I went out onto the pier to feed them dressed in my normal manner, some animals whom I suppose had been abused by humans would register alarm and show great fear, or sometimes exhibit bellicose behavior towards me. This was a problem, since I was no match for them in ferocity or strength, or bite for that matter. I gave it some consideration, since I

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had no wish to be attacked or to have them register fear at my presence. One way was to distribute and take a risk, or work when they were in great lassitude, at the ebb of the tide. I decided that this was unacceptable for purposes of my study. I had made a real investment in time and effort in my personal fishing, as well as employing an army of deck urchins to fish for me, along with catches bought directly from boats or dealers

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at the docks. I wanted to study them at my pleasure without personal peril. My inspiration was on a tobacco container. More accurately A snuff container. Never got the habit myself. It had nothing To do with the contents, since it was an empty can anyway. on the label was a Sea Captain in a slicker, an oilskin jacket. The thought occurred to me that perhaps if I wore one of these things and had it modified so that I

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appeared to be a seal myself, that in their lassitude my friends wouldn't notice I was not one of their number. I would have to adjust the smell to conform to theirs and perhaps soil it up a bit. But it seemed worth a try. I knew of a marine supply store not too far a distance from my pier and found what I needed. In fact I found a pair of trousers as well, no mean discovery. Then I was off to a Chinese tailor. Not that it made

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a whit of difference, but I made up a story about a costume ball! The Tailor thought it a good idea, in fact he suggested I go back and buy a tarp of the same material to use for patching, and extra parts, such as flippers. I had a vague idea of some sort of covering or gloves for my hands, but this little fellow for a small sum actually fashioned boots with a bifurcated flipper at the toe of each, as well as a hand covering for each hand that

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resembled the front flippers, and yet freed my hands to do the work I might need to do. I had bought a hat, not bought actually; I had found it in the pocket of the jacket. When I asked the merchant, he stated it was part of the set, honest fellow! It was very large and floppy, but with a little alteration it hid my features effectively. Grommets in the jacket allowed me to attach the hood. The jacket tailored for a more seal-like look finished

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the costume. If I blacked out my face, it might just work, I reasoned at the time. My best idea was to have a professional tailor do the job. Luckily he had had some experience with the material. This made all the difference. From 25 yards away I looked for all intents very much the model of a Sea Lion! After I made it a little gamey with fish oil, and blotched it up with sand and a bit of mud I was more or less the same color and

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appearance as the group. Almost at once I found that if I reclined out on the pier and kept my normally fidgety nature in check that soon I would be surrounded by seals, sharing the mutual warmth of their bodies in the sun. Should anyone have observed me I don't think they'd have seen much difference between me and my 'fellows'. Winter had about run its course and about half of my tenants were frequently gone, but

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they returned almost as if checking back with me. I took to lounging out there frequently, sometimes at night, only going in to write my little notes. I shall tell all in this memoir, and divulge my future plans shortly, but now I must chronicle a most regrettable incident , after a bit of preamble. But first I can happily report Sparkle had come back in to my life! She simply showed up one morning, causing little stir in the

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'herd' on the dock, which by now was formidable, but had not caused the stir it would shortly. We had had a bit of notoriety from the tour groups that would be driven about the piers in hay wagons filled with tourists ready to be shown the sights, usually ending up in a restaurant serving fish. I suppose it was the first really close look for many, and they did spend a bit of time solemnly watching the comatose herd. More

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about Sparkle! She waddled up to me directly and barked in what I took to be recognition. She saw 'me' through all the trappings of the costume and seemed to pick me out of the group. Perhaps it was the fact that I was the only occupant of the pier except for seagulls was not sleeping at the moment. It is a possibility that it was imaginary and a bit of whimsy on my part, but the true friendship that was to blossom

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between us will not be disputed as long as I am drawing breath. She had worked her way up on to the pier, and as I went over to get a fish for her, she followed me right into the building. I fed her quite generously and she seemed at ease and at peace and not a bit afraid of me. Her instincts were quite sharp since I had no notion of harming her or her kind. I must confess, with as much love as animal and man can have for one another,

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that ours was an affectionate and very playful exchange. I don't know why she decided to spend so much time with me, but she did and that is a true fact. After a few days I found an old tub of redwood, I suppose a half a wine barrel, propped up against one of the walls. I turned it right side up and filled it with sea water , transferring 5 gallons of sea water at a time. I devised a drain system for a clean exchange of water

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every few days and had designed a filling system that sadly was never to be finished. I am sure it would have worked, since I am a born tinker. She was not my 'pet' in the true sense. Sparkle was a wild creature who had domesticated herself on her own terms. She loved to splash and play, much as the first time I saw her in the bay. Sometimes, as I was pretending to sleep, she would nudge me off into the water then jump in with me.

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At other moments she'd play in the tub, or simply sit and stare with her front flippers dangling over the side, clapping with her flippers and barking for my attention, which usually brought a fish. She approached human paraphernalia with a curiousity unlike any of her fellow seals. For instance there was an old net float about ten inches across that she nudged out of a pile of flotsam over in a corner. I observed her

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nudging it and then butt it into the water. She played with it until it sank, and she seemed genuinely downhearted that her 'toy' was gone. I went to a sporting goods store on Market Street and bought her a leather soccer ball, convincing the sales clerk to blow it up 'to test it'. I must admit upon thinking about it that having to dress for the human world was most foreign to me and felt most awkward. I preferred my Sea

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Lion costume, as it had become my normal mode of attire. When I arrived back at the pier and had changed back into my preferred garb I tossed the ball to her and she nudged it back, poking it with her nose. In short order this resulted in a sort of 'pitch and catch' with me tossing the ball to her and her nudging it back to me quite rapidly. I actually became winded from the intensity of the game. I feel she could have learned

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many more such tricks, but time was my enemy on any future exploration of any of those possibilities. I realize I have been avoiding writing about what must be told next, though I did have quite a task trying to recreate my writings, which were destroyed. I will need alcoholic reinforcement to get though it. I have chosen a peach brandy from South America, a half cask left by my landlords. I will drink first, and then write.

End of Chapter 2