Sea Wolves

Last week while we were camping in Forillon National Park I woke up in the wee hours of the morning to the sound of wolves howling in the distance, or so I thought. I nudged Ruth awake and she agreed that we were listening to a pack of wolves before drifting back into sleep. Then it occurred to me in my nocturnal grogginess that "in the distance" was water. These weren't wolves but seals.

Sure enough, the next morning we were paddling along the shore in our kayaks and as we approached a point we could hear the same howling. On the other side we found a colony of grey seals making an almighty racket. We stayed a respectful distance from the rocks where they were parked, but a bunch of them lurched into the water and swam toward us. It was as though we were strangers driving into a yard where a pack of dogs comes running out to meet us. Are they friendly or unfriendly? We know from previous encounters that seals are curious creatures, but we weren't sure if they could also be aggressive and territorial.

Fortunately we were fine, although they quickly surrounded us. It is a little disconcerting because when seals surface they breathe out in a loud, percussive manner. Suddenly we would hear a blast from a few metres behind us or beside us. A large male swam close and lifted itself up out of the water to get a better look at us. They followed for a little while before swimming away.

There is something exhilarating about being connected to other creatures in this way. It takes us away from the hubris, the false pride through which we assume we are the centre of the universe. It is a reminder that God brought all living things into being and that it is the diversity of this planet that is essential to its wonder.