By Butch Freedman
The seal pup stared straight at us today. It appeared to be smiling, as it coasted with the current down the shoreline. The day before when Stacy and I were out bodyboarding, we saw two adult seals not ten feet away from us. One jumped straight up in the air, like a small whale. I think it was showing off. The other seal was busy catching waves. It made me happy to see them. Then I caught a nice breaker and Stacy jumped on one too. We both had big smiles when we hit the beach. Stacy said, “Did you see that?”
“Yeah,” I said, “Those guys are out surfing too. It’s like we’re all in it together.”
“Do they think we’re other seals?”
“Dunno,” I said, and ran back into the waves, hoping the seals had not left.
I told my wife about what happened when I got home. She laughed and asked me all about those seals. I know she likes that I still go surfing, and sometimes she comes along to walk on the beach. Riding waves, even on messy days when the wind is blowing and the surf is chopped, always puts me in a good mood. I’m old now, but I still like to get out into the Pacific. I joke that my goal is to be the oldest surfer on the Oregon Coast. I think I’m almost there, though you might be surprised at the competition. And, yes, here on the North Coast, I wear a thick front-zip wetsuit (5/4), complete with attached hood and booties. The water temp never gets much above 50 degrees, even in the summer. Some days you just have to grit your teeth and plunge in. The pay-off is worth the effort.
The seals don’t need wetsuits or worry about the conditions. I wonder if they even get cold.
A week later we spotted a large pelican. I mean a really big one. We see pelicans all the time here at the beach, but they usually fly and fish in flocks. This guy (or gal) was all alone and settled onto the water like a sitting king, surveying its surroundings. The pelican didn’t appear to be aware of us, or maybe it wouldn’t condescend to be bothered by such strange looking creatures. We stared at it for a long time, ignoring the waves breaking around us. There was something transfixing about the giant bird. Stacy was staring at it also; we exchanged a smile and a silent “wow”. Some days the best thing about being out in the surf is who you share it with. These encounters with wild life remind me of my limited importance and place in the grand scheme of things. Us “human beans” are no more important than those seals, or sea lions (which I’ve also encountered) or the regal beauty of a seabird.
