Seal Rescuers Perform Balancing Act

The sea lions and seals that live off Southern California are not endangered, strictly speaking. But they face plenty of dangers -- many of them human-made -- in the waters and on the beach.

There are fish lines and nets that entangle and suffocate, tantalizing and deadly plastic bags that look like food, and the occasional encounters with armed aggressors.

“You’d be surprised how many people like to shoot these animals,” said Dean Gomersall, an animal care supervisor at the Friends of the Sea Lion Marine Mammal Center in Laguna Beach.

Gomersall should know. He was called out one night to Huntington Beach to find a 400-pound sea lion that looked healthy from a distance and in the dark. Close up, Gomersall noticed a big piece of the animal’s face was missing.

“He had been shot four or six times at close range,” he said. “He was still breathing. We brought him in and the vet had to put him down.”

Rescuing sea mammals can be heart-wrenching. Last year, one of the busiest in the center’s 33-year history, rescuers watched as many as 80 sea lions and seals die from domoic acid poisoning caused by a toxic algae bloom that worked its way through the food chain.

It is also fulfilling work, said Gomersall, 41, who left his job as an animal trainer at SeaWorld in Orlando, Fla., six years ago to become a rescuer.

He is one of six employees at the center, which also counts on 75 volunteers to perform a wide range of tasks, from chopping up herrings to making presentations.

“There are no boundaries,” joked volunteer Mary Alderson, a retired pediatric nurse from Laguna Beach who had just finished hosing down a kennel one recent morning. Her official duty is to visit local schools and teach kids about the center and sea mammals, but she doesn’t mind getting a little dirty between presentations, she said.

Friends of the Sea Lion is one of six sea mammal rescue centers in the state, and it covers the Orange County shoreline. SeaWorld has a rescue center for animals found in San Diego County, and four other facilities dot the coast to the north.

The 4,000-square-foot facility in Laguna Beach treated 269 animals last year and is expected to about equal that number this year, said Emily Wing, the center’s director of development and marketing.

The volunteers and staff members thrive on each successful rescue. The center saved 40 animals from domoic poisoning last year, including three sea lion pups that had to be hand-reared by caretakers.

Because they became too accustomed to humans, the pups were not released to the wild, like the vast majority of animals the center rescues. They now live at the Oklahoma City Zoo.

During a recent unseasonably hot day, several rescued animals were at the center. Three sea lion pups frolicked in a shallow pool while an adult female basked in the sun.

In another pen, an elephant seal kept a watchful eye on Gomersall, Wing and a visitor. He was found on the beach at Crystal Cove State Park, covered with bloody gashes. Gomersall wasn’t sure what caused the wounds, but the animal was recovering nicely.

“This guy will be as big as a Volkswagen when he grows fully,” Gomersall said. “We are waiting to fatten him up a little more before releasing him.”

The rescuers name each of the animals. The seal was called Prancer, in honor of the holiday season. The same for Silver, a female sea lion enjoying the warmth because her shiny coat reminded rescuers of silver bells.

Cooper, a yearling whose neck was slashed by a fishing line, was named after one of his rescuers. Another yearling, Audi, was found under -- what else? -- an Audi. And Little Turkey was rescued during Thanksgiving.

The center was founded in 1971 by two lifeguards who at first kept the rescued animals in their own homes. In 1976, it moved to the Laguna Canyon Road site, a converted horse barn.

There, malnourished and injured animals are treated and fed. The center spends more than a third of its $300,000 annual budget on herring alone, Wing said. The money comes from donations and grants.

The center is also the only one in Southern California that treats beached whales and dolphins. A large, heated, above-ground pool sits next to the main building.

The holding tank is for quarantining cetaceans before they are shipped to larger facilities such as SeaWorld, which can’t receive sick animals until it is clear that other creatures won’t become infected.

But none has made the trip to SeaWorld since the pool was installed in 1999. The chances of survival for beached dolphins and whales are less than 1%, Gomersall said. “When they reach the beach,” he said, “they are pretty much done.”

Still, rescuers give each animal round-the-clock care. “I don’t know that it is futile,” Gomersall said. “We learn something every time we do a rescue.”

Gomersall knows that in many cases the rescuers are not just saving animals from human hazards, but fighting against the natural selection process.

For example, winter is the time weaning sea lion pups begin foraging on their own. Many don’t manage. Exhausted and emaciated, they end up on local beaches.

The lucky ones make it to the rescue center.

Helping such animals is a small way of balancing for all the other damages people do to the environment, Gomersall said.

“You can’t just sit and watch an animal die. I think it is human nature to help when you see an animal in need.”