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| AN ENCOUNTER WITH A HARP SEAL AT SANDY HOOK
AN ENCOUNTER WITH A HARP SEAL AT SANDY HOOK In 1966, author Charlton Ogburn Jr. wrote in “The Winter Beach” that the coast during the coldest part of the year suggests to many folks a place that is potent: powerful waves plunging upon the sand, muscular winds blowing with a crisp and clean scent, and “the emptiness and the vastness of the solitude” are inherent. The winter beach provides a clear, unobstructed view of a landscape in motion. An unfailing line of bitter maritime weather, such as blizzards and northeasters, and the rise or fall of the tides seem to toss and turn the beach around like an effortless collage of snow, sandbars, and saltwater. A few days ago I found myself at a winter beach. I had decided to visit Sandy Hook around mid-day. Near arctic conditions had set in. Although it was sunny, temperatures were cold with highs in the mid 30s, and brutal winds were blowing from the northwest around 20 mph. The only sign of other humans were a few fishermen on the oceanside of the peninsula and an elderly man walking his dog on the bayside. My mission that day was to see if I could observe Harbor Seal activity. Recently, a pod of Harbor Seals have been hauling themselves out of bay waters to rest on a small narrow shoal just south of Skelton Hill Island. With a scope, binoculars, and camera in hand, I crossed over Hartshorne Drive from Parking Lot C, or as it is sometimes referred to by locals - the wind surfer’s lot, to the bayside beach. It was about two hours before dead low tide. More or less two-thirds of a mile away from where I was standing I could see with help from my scope a few seal heads popping out of the water near the sandbar. Then all of sudden, the Harbor Seals one by one started hauling their plump, dark silver-brown elongated bodies out of the cold water. Following several hours of foraging in the water for food, primarily fish, they were now looking forward to a few hours of basking and napping in the sun during low tide. I spent roughly two hours observing the activities of approximately 30 Harbor Seals on the far-off sandbar. I could hear their sheep-like call in the distance, along with some grunts and growls by seal pups. I could see their characteristic "banana-shaped" profile that they perform when resting. Harbor Seals prefer not to touch each other while ashore, generally keeping about a flipper’s length distance from one another. Young seals tend to stay away from the adults but may interact with one another. Interestingly enough, recent research out of California from Project Pacific suggests that Harbor Seals often occupy the same portion of a rock or beach as their previous haul-out. I was excited by what I just observed. Most people do not even know seals can be seen in Sandy Hook Bay, and I had just witnessed around 30 of them resting and absorbing the sun’s energy. The best, however, was yet to come. As I was returning to my vehicle, I decided to stop first by the wetlands in the southern section of Spermacetti Cove. I wanted to scan the area for coastal winter birds. The area is often a good spot to see Great Blue Herons, Buffleheads, Brant, and Mergansers. As I scanned the area, I saw what looked liked a small white and black abandoned dog sleeping on a sandy mound near the water. As I got closer, what I came upon was not sleeping dog, but a single HARP SEAL! Wow, this was my first-ever sighting of a Harp Seal in Sandy Hook Bay. This was way cool. Harp Seal sightings are not rare along the northern part of the Jersey Shore. Indeed, there were several sighting of Harp Seals in Long Brach and Neptune just the other day. Still, they are not as common or abundant as Harbor Seals. Harp Seal are arctic seals. They spend most of their lives in the North Atlantic Ocean, primarily around Newfoundland and north of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. They are most often associated with living on sea ice. So, seeing a Harp Seal in New Jersey is a special winter beach treat and an experience to savor. Clearly, I was observing a juvenile Harp Seal. The pups are almost completely white except for their near-black head, and spotted fur. Harp Seals become mature between 4 to 7 years. At that time, they will have a silver-grey body that weighs up to 400 pounds with an all black face and a wishbone-shaped “harp” figure on their back. Between January and April, juvenile “harpies” often migrate to New Jersey when their population is at the southern limit of winter migration, usually around Newfoundland. They may travel up to 1,600 miles during the winter migration season. The little Harp Seal at Sandy Hook must have moved into wetland waters when it was high tide, then got marooned as the tide went out. Yet, the little harpie didn’t seem to care. All it wanted to do was sleep. It must have had a long journey. Protected by several layers of blubber, the Harp Seal didn’t even care about the cold temperatures, bitter northerly winds, or frozen sand. A horrifying thought entered my mind. What if the little Harp Seal was sick or injured? On my cell phone, I immediately contacted the good folks at the Marine Mammal Stranding Center in Brigantine. Since 1978, the staff and volunteers of the Marine Mammal Stranding Center in Brigantine have responded to over 3000 calls for stranded whales, dolphins, seals and sea turtles that have washed ashore on New Jersey beaches. Through team efforts of the Stranding Center’s staff, every attempt is made to rehabilitate and release these animals back into the wild. They advised me not to worry. In general, Harp Seals sleep alone and it is customary to find the young unaccompanied in saltwater wetland areas. They suggested I take some close up pictures of the seal and to email them to the center for their review. While staying far away so as not to frighten the little harpie, I begin to take pictures of the face, body, and tail. The little Harp Seal looked fine to me. There was no blood, the pup was fat, and there was nothing to obstruct its movement, like a fishing net around the neck, or a needle in the flipper. Indeed, the little Harp Seal seemed quite content to just continue catching the sun’s rays and napping. Later on that day, I returned to Sandy Hook during high tide to see if the Harp Seal was at hand. I was happy to find that the beautiful little harpie was gone. The seal was well. It was continuing its life cycle of eating, swimming, and getting fat. I am hopeful the little Harp Seal will reach adulthood. Perhaps someday it will remember its nap at Sandy Hook. The seal might look back fondly on the smooth sandy winter beach at the Jersey Shore as it spends its adult life in the chilly North Atlantic Ocean and ice-covered landscape of northern Canada, Greenland and northern Russia. Unfortunately, this little seal might not have a very long life, because of seal hunting activities authorized by the Canadian government. Harp Seals have been hunted for many years as a source of food, oil and fur. Although most developed nations have banned the importation of seal fur pelts in 1983, the Canadian government continues to allow seals to be killed to make available economic opportunities in depressed coastal communities. Public pressure exists to stop the Canadian seal hunt, but more seals still die annually in Canada than in all the other seal hunting countries combined. In 2004 alone, 365,971 seals were killed. Despite government assurances that the hunt is conducted humanely, animal rights groups routinely observe acts of cruelty, including seals being dragged around by large clubs with hooks. If you are interested in helping to shut down the Canadian Harp Seal hunt, please consider joining HARPSEALS.ORG, a 501 (c) (3) non-profit organization. Members are dedicated to making a difference in the future wellbeing of the Canadian Harp Seal species. Their website address is http://www.harpseals.org / prematurely chased back into the water, before staff arrives. | ||||||||
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