Valentine's Day Release, a Moment to Remember

It was one of those feel-good moments, the kind that sends tingles down your spine.

It was Valentine's Day, an incredibly sunny, gorgeous morning at Crescent Bay. And I, along with about 200 other onlookers, was watching as two chubby sea lion pups named Makia and Alto, scooted and hopped their way from the large crate that had carried them here, and made their way toward the gentle waves of the ocean.

It was just so darn cool to watch. I was a new volunteer docent at Pacific Marine Mammal Center and seeing the sea lions released to the ocean was my payback. The two pups had been rescued in November skinny and starving, and had spent the subsequent months being fed, treated and monitored by the dedicated staff and volunteers at the center. I'd spent the previous morning there, talking to visitors and pointing out Makia and Alta among six playful barking sea lions in the largest of the viewing pools. They weren't hard to spot. They were the two that were always together, nose to nose, the flipper of one constantly draped across the other.

It's so easy to get attached to the seals and sea lions. We're not supposed to talk to them or make eye contact. It's best for their survival in the wild if they don't consider humans their friends. But they have such personality and it's just so fun to see them play, swim, and skid happily about on their bellies that it's nearly impossible to refrain from going all gaga over them. On the other hand, sometimes I'd catch them watching me, even barking at me! They seemed to show a keen awareness of their surroundings, each other, and the people that fed and cared for them.

Down at the beach, when PMMC board member Mary Ferguson, who was standing on top of the large crate, yanked up the door to release them, the sea lions looked around, confused, not sure what they were supposed to do.

I saw Makia (or was it Alto?) pause a moment to look into the faces of the people, a little surprised at all the hoopla. But then they seemed to hear the gentle call of the ocean, and together they hopped out and began their trek to the water's edge, passing the throng of admirers, like royalty on a red carpet.

All too quickly, they were in the tumbling waves, still side by side, their dark brown bodies glistening in the sunlight. You could see the joy in their movement, as the ocean washed over them. When the water got deep enough one of them leaped above the waves and happily dove in, followed by the other. I watched with my husband and daughter as their two noses stayed above the water for several hundred yards out to sea, then finally disappeared in the rolling blue.

As we turned away and the crowd began to disperse, I saw that others like us were also touched by the moment. Silently we wished them well, hoping that this time, now that they were strong and healthy, the young sea lions buddies would find their place the quiet depths of the ocean world.