Read Online Island of the Lost by Joan Druett - Free Book Online Page A

Musgrave’s time—as they still do today. In 1873 two skulls found near the castaway hut were both sea lion skulls, and in 1916 a scientific expedition found no fur seals at all at Carnley Harbour.
    It is much more likely that the animals Musgrave described were all sea lions. The collection of “black” seals gathered on one of the shores would have been a mob of dark brown adolescent sea lion bulls, while the “tigers” on the opposite side would have been sea lion cows, presided over by a few dominant bulls, the “beachmasters.” The young males, called “Sams” (Sub-Adult Males) by scientists, are forced to live apart from the breeding population until they are socially mature, though they make constant hopeful forays on the rookeries—breeding platforms—with the object of defeating an old or weak beachmaster, stealing his cows, and establishing a harem.
    Male and female sea lions looked so different from eachother that even professional sealers had trouble realizing that they were the same species, calling the males “sea lions” and the females “sea bears.” Two or three times bigger than the cows, the bulls can grow to a length of twelve feet, and weigh a thousand pounds. As the name suggests, sea lion bulls have a mane, which, with the moustache, further distinguishes them from the cows. “The upper lip, thick and fleshy, is fringed on either side with thirty hairs, hard as horn, each about four inches in length, and terminating in a point,” wrote Raynal, who was a precise and astute observer. “Some of these hairs are marked with transparent veins, like those of the tortoise shell.”
    Since Musgrave’s day, the sea lions of the Auckland Islands have been studied in much more detail, though his observations are still considered valuable and interesting. While the sea lions are present about the shores throughout the year, it isn’t until the breeding season that they start to gather on the rookeries. In October or November, the fully mature bulls haul their massive bodies out onto the rock platforms, and immediately start fighting for the best territory, each battling for a shelf from which he will greet the heavily pregnant cows when they arrive about the beginning of December.
    At first it seems a waste of time, because the incoming cows haughtily ignore the questing bulls, their minds being otherwise engaged. The moment each one is clear of the surf she rises up on her fore flippers, and looks about for her friends. As a scientific observer noted in 1972, “A plump, wet female sea lion would emerge from the sea, survey the scene, and then hurriedly gallop towards a group of cows as if she were late for an appointment.” Presumably, these other cows are her cousins, her sisters, and her aunts, and include her mother and grandmother,too, because she knows them so very well. Having joined the mob, she settles down, often rubbing herself against one of her friends to dry herself off.
    For the next seven days or so they huddle together companionably, going into the sea to fish every now and then, and the rest of the time sleeping so heavily their snores can be heard from many yards away. Sea lions have no sense of hygiene at all, freely vomiting and defecating all over each other, as well as indulging in a lot of sand-throwing, but few fights develop, and those are mostly settled with a threatening yawn. Then, about the third week of December, the pupping begins.
    When she goes into labor the female shifts away from the mob and twists about, obviously uncomfortable. As the moment of birth approaches she swings her hindquarters vigorously, working so hard that the pup is virtually hurled out of her body, landing some feet away. Mother and calf then get to know each other by sound, taste, and smell, though the calf has to learn how to suckle the thick, creamy milk, which is five times as rich as dairy cow’s milk. There