Blissology

Salmie, the Sea Lion:

Have you ever had a stray puppy befriend you on the beach? Tongue out, they are one big rambunctious ball of uncontrollable playfulness. “Throw something, come on, let’s play. Throw Ball! Throw Stick! Come on!” They seem to be saying as they jump onto you with their sandy feet. You feel a strange combination of annoyance mixed with amusement.

Keep picturing that scenario of puppyhood, but know this is not a story about a dog. It’s about a sea lion. Yep, I have befriended a sea lion out here on one of the most remote western edges of North America.

I see sea lions all the time. Almost everyday. I moved to Ucluelet and Tofino 2 months ago because of my love for the ocean and surfing. Everyday, I put a 4mm wetsuit on and paddle around the North Pacific swells and there are without fail lots of creatures that pop up. It is part of the thrill of being here. Dolphins, seals, sea lions, and whales. We see them routinely.

There are two main types of sea lions out here. The California Sea Lions which weigh up to 650 pounds and the Stellar Sea Lion, a massive species where males weigh between 1300-2500 pounds. Thankfully the encounter I am about to describe was not with the Stellar Sea Lion. Those encounters always freak me out. I have found myself paddling through some isolated reef a long way from shore and up from the kelp comes what I can only describe what looks like the Grizzly Bear of the ocean. A huge barking display telling me I am swimming through his territory in some kind of odd looking tight neoprene seal suit. I reassure him that I have no interest in his females and am quite happy in a relationship back on land. Somehow it works, but I am always shaken.

This was a relatively small, maybe two hundred and fifty pound sea lion that won the prize for playfulness and slowly my heart. It happened one day this spring on Wickinninish Beach just north of Ucluelet. The waves weren’t epic, in fact with a higher tide, they were becoming quite mellow or what we call in surfing “fat.” So my friend Marc and I paddled close to shore in about 4 feet of water where the waves would dump on the beach providing more punch but a shorter ride.

Then in comes Salmie. I didn’t call him that right away, that name came the day after, but it is pronounced like ‘Sammie’ but honours the staple of most sea lions, the Salmon.

He makes his presence known not by slowly and curiously swimming up to me, but by leaping out of the wave beside me when I take off. It is a short ride in the shore break, but when it is over Salmie is literally swimming under me and jumping over me. I am not thrilled, in fact I am freaked out.

This is nature after all and I am always aware that cute, cuddly creatures can turn ferocious in a second, a playful nip to a sea lion is the end of my fingers to me.

But I can not shake him. As I paddle back out, he is still swimming around in excited circles, jumping over me, bumping into me, swimming around me. “He has to get bored of me at one point,” I quietly hope, but no, Salmie is here to play.

And that is when it hits me. This sea lion is like the puppy on a beach I described except my red surfboard is the ball in this exciting game of ‘aqua-fetch’. I recognize that this is enthusiasm to play gone wild. Just as dogs never tire of fetch, you can throw a stick morning until night, Salmie was not tiring of ‘chase the dude in the seal suit’.

Our game didn’t end for twenty minutes when I finally had enough and went in. It was cute for sure to play with a sea lion, but I was a little annoyed that this creature ruined every wave I got by getting in my way.

The experience was incredible though and once I had time to digest it on land I really valued that he had chosen me of the 60 other surfers in the water to play with. When would I ever have an experience like this again?

The answer is, the very next day. It was a dismal West Coast day where the sky is one flat shade of gray and the drizzle is pouring down. A few people were out surfing down the beach, the waves were small but often when it looks bad from the beach, it can often be better on the water than it looks, so I paddle out. All my stresses from the day disappear as my paddling arms help unleash an endorphin high in my body. I notice some the little splendors of the ocean like the hidden hints of orange in bull kelp floating on the water that lights up even on a dull day. I feel sad for people who only get a pale comparison of this feeling in small, chlorinated pools.

As predicted, after about half and hour of less than mediocre surf, the waves get better. Just as they do, as if he has a fun detector on him, Salmie shows up. Again. Could it be him? There are thousands of sea lions in these waters, but he is the same size and same light beige. When I catch a good wave, there he is jumping out of the wave in front in me. Yep, that’s him.

This time I relax and go with it and trust that he doesn’t want to get hit by my board. As clunky as these creatures are on land, they are surprisingly elegant in the water.

When the ride is over, he is up to his same tricks, jumping over me, swimming circles under me as I begin my long paddle back out. I am amazed that he is back and actually welcome his presence the same way a dog owner loves coming home to the family dog.

We wait together for the next set to come in. As my eyes scan the gray horizon for the bigger sets coming in, Salmie sits beside me, eyes also fixed on the ocean for incoming waves of fun. They come, I turn and we really hit our stride now, his body outstretched in the wave in front of me, with the grace of an eagle in flight, I zig zag over top of him whacking the lip. I feel the high that synchronized swimmer must experience when they are in the zone. We were dancers before with two left flippers, but now we are moving in synch like polished tango dancers.

After paddling back out, we watch for waves again. The phrase ‘man’s best friend’ comes to mind. “You need a name,” I say to him literally looking him in the eye as we talk. Immediately Salmie comes to mind. And we glide together until dark.

Sadly, that was the last cold day so my winter wetsuit with it’s unique scent of seasons of pee in is now in storage. My new wetsuit is brand spanking new, but I am hopeful every day that it will regain the same scent and Salmie and I will once again share our love for playing in the waves in our ocean shrine.