Overkill

A pocket gopher, blissfully unaware that it is the Santa Monica-Malibu Unified School District's Undesirable No. 1 and will be gassed out of existence using the WW I-style warfare overkill approach to pest management.

You might think that the City of Malibu's resolution opposing the use of dangerous and deadly rodenticides and the fact the municipality is in the process of developing a citywide rodenticide ban like the one recently approved for the Santa Monica Mountains in unincorporated Los Angeles County would be enough to convince the Santa Monica-Malibu Unified School District that the pest management version of carpet bombing might not be the best approach for its schools, but it wasn't.

The same school district that has been in hot water over its attempt to sweep epic levels of PCB contamination at Malibu High School under the rug, decided to use Fumitoxin—pellets of aluminum phosphide that combine with moisture to release deadly phosphine gas, to kill a few gophers. 

This pesticide was applied just days before students and teachers arrived on campus for the fall semester. It's a blanket nuke-everything approach, instead of the targeted pest management plan the district is suppose to be responsible for developing and following.

I wrote the following for a 2011 article in the Malibu Surfside News on pesticide use at Malibu High School, it's  discouraging to have to quote it again, four years later:

The EPA has placed [Aluminum phosphide] in its highest toxicity category. As a restricted use pesticide, it can be used by certified personnel only. According to the manufacturer’s description, the compound converts to a deadly phosphine gas when it comes in contact with moisture, eventually degrading into inorganic phosphate, which is not toxic to humans but is a groundwater contaminant and contributes to ocean water quality degradation.

According to a U.S. Department of Agriculture report published in 1997, aluminum phosphate has been found to eliminate certain species of ground squirrel, but that “burrowing fumigants will kill animals residing in treated burrows, so it is important to verify that burrows are occupied by target animals. Animals potentially affected by primary poisoning include nontarget rodents, burrowing owls, reptiles and amphibians, rabbits, raccoons, fox, weasel and skunk.”

The EPA lists all organophosphates, including aluminum phosphide, as “acutely toxic to bees, wildlife, and humans.” Recent studies suggest a possible link to adverse effects in the neurobehavioral development of fetuses and children, even at low levels of exposure.

In 2010, Fumitoxin caused the death of a four-year-old girl and her 15-month-old sister in Utah, after the fumigant leaked into the basement of the girls’ home. The rodenticide was applied by an exterminator to treat the family’s lawn for gophers. The toxic fumes were spread throughout the house by the air conditioning.

A letter sent to Malibu parents indicates that the district also authorized the use of strychnine, a poison that has no antidote—which is why it's popular with mystery writers and real life murderers—and a reputation for decimating wildlife. It is a well-documented frequent cause of secondary poisoning in cats and dogs, and species like coyotes and bobcats.

Parents, community members, and activists—including volunteers from Poison Free Malibu, rushed to protest. The district successfully headed off the opposition by arranging for the pesticides to be applied two hours before the stated time.

Then, in the words of the Malibu Times, "the firestorm began."

The article quotes a letter from Malibu Mayor John Sibert:

“As you well know, the City Council unanimously supported a statement against the use of rodenticides and other poisons for pest control in the city,” reads an email sent last week from Malibu Mayor John Sibert to [SMMUSD Superintendent Sandra Lyon] and shared with The Malibu Times.

“To have the school district ignore these efforts and plan an extensive fumigation and poison program on the MHS fields, particularly during the school year when they are in use, is extremely disturbing,” the letter continued. “I hope you would hold off on this and consider other alternatives. The city and, I’m sure, Poison Free Malibu is willing to help. Let me know if you are willing to consider other options.”

Apparently, the district wasn't willing.

The only Malibu resident on the SMMUSD board, Craig Foster,  "tried to find compromise among parents and the district," according to The Malibu Times. Here's a quote:

“I expect that all of us share two beliefs. First, we believe that our children should be free to play on our schools’ fields, safe from pest-related injury. Second, we believe that our pest management should be mindful and honor the delicate nature of our shared ecosystem. I am not happy that the treatment is going ahead and I know I am far from alone in my upset. However, given where we are right now, I believe this is the choice that best meets all of our responsibilities.

His words might have carried more weight if the photo below wasn't the example of the risk of "pest-related injury" that the district provided for the article:

There it is, dear reader, the SMMUSD's justification for poisoning a large section of the Malibu High School campus: a pair of gopher holes. Oh, the horror! Here at the Malibu Post we're at a loss to know why a couple of traps and a shovel weren't used to deal with the problem. Photo: SMMUSD via The Malibu Times

We aren't living in that happy delusional mid-century era when the schools were built and Du Pont promised us "better living through modern chemistry."

In 2015, no one would consider covering their child's room with DDT-treated wallpaper. We know now about the catastrophic impact of this pesticide, but the "nature is the enemy" attitude that was a key component of the mid-century modern mindset is slow to change, especially at the institutional level, even though we know that chemicals like Aluminum phosphide are also deadly.

We're living in the aftermath of that giant chemistry experiment. There is growing evidence that many pesticides impact human health, and no one is more vulnerable than children. We also have an ever-increasing body of data that provides incontrovertible evidence that pesticide use is devastating wildlife, and more specifically, extensive evidence sponsored by the National Park Service, collected and analyzed by top ecologists, and published, and peer-reviewed, that key species in the Santa Monica Monica Mountains and Malibu are being decimated by rodenticides.  

Malibu High School, and all of Malibu, is located within the boundaries of the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area. National Park Service parkland is located less than a mile away from the campus. This school is also right next to a Marine Protected Area and an area of special biological significance. 

Let's meet some of the potential victims of the SMMUSD's poisoning program, shall we?

Here's one of the gopher's main natural predators, the gopher snake. Unfortunately, snakes like these are frequent victims of rodenticide. They die from eating poisoned prey, but also from rodenticides like Fumitoxin, because they occupy the tunnels made by the gophers. 

We tend to think of egrets and herons as water birds, but they are equally at home in fields and meadows, where they hunt for reptiles and rodents. This places them at risk from secondary rodenticide poisoning. Many bird species depend on rodents as a food source.

This is the California ground squirrel, another frequent target of the school's war on wildlife. They're a primary food source for many predators, including owls, bobcats, coyotes, foxes, badgers, weasels, raccoons and rattlesnakes. They're also intelligent, gregarious animals that communicate with an extensive vocabulary of squeaks and whistles and have developed a series of clever strategies to avoid ending up on the dinner menu. According to observations made by Barbara Clucas, a graduate student in animal behavior at UC Davis, ground squirrels and rock squirrels mask their scent by picking up pieces of shed snakeskin, chewing it and then licking their fur. According to the research published in Science Daily in 2007, "adult female squirrels and juveniles apply snake scent more often than adult males, which are less vulnerable to predation by snakes, Clucas said. The scent probably helps to mask the squirrel's own scent, especially when the animals are asleep in their burrows at night, or to persuade a snake that another snake is in the burrow." 

The side-blotched lizard, and its cousin the fence lizard, often shelter in gopher burrows. Pesticides like Fumitoxin don't differentiate between target species and non-target species. 

This white-tailed kite is one of numerous raptor species that are present on the Malibu High School campus. This is a species that came close to extinction during the DDT era and still has numerous protections, but nothing can protect it from secondary poisoning.

Here's someone else who can be impacted by irresponsible pesticide overuse. According to the EPA, aluminum phosphide can contribute to ocean water degradation. These sea lions got a second chance at life at the California Wildlife Center during the recent sea lion mortality event. Marine mammals like these face enough challenges without having to deal with the SMMUSD's toxins entering the water at Zuma, which is a Marine Protected Area.  Enough is enough. 

Rachel Carson famously wrote:

 “We stand now where two roads diverge. But unlike the roads in Robert Frost's familiar poem, they are not equally fair. The road we have long been traveling is deceptively easy, a smooth superhighway on which we progress with great speed, but at its end lies disaster. The other fork of the road — the one less traveled by — offers our last, our only chance to reach a destination that assures the preservation of the earth.” 

It may be the road less traveled, but it doesn't mean we have to walk it alone. The school district is being offered every kind of assistance and support to make the transition to a less toxic lifestyle for our teachers, our children, and our community. The mayor, the Malibu City Council, and city staff are willing to help, so is Poison Free Malibu. There are no excuses left for not owning up to the challenge and becoming responsible Malibu residents like the rest of us try to be.

The attitude that Malibu is some sort of rebel colony that has to be run with an iron hand is just as antiquated as the district's pesticide policy. It's time for both attitudes to be revised, and it would be nice if one of the things the people in charge of our children's education could learn is compassion for all life. A little environmental science wouldn't hurt either. It isn't 1950 any more. 

“If, having endured much, we have at last asserted out "right to know," and if by knowing, we have concluded that we are being asked to take senseless and frightening risks, then we should no longer accept the counsel of those who tell us that we must fill our world with poisonous chemicals; we should look about and see what other course is open to us.”

—Rachel Carson, Silent Spring

The Serpent in the Garden

It's snake season in the Santa Monica Mountains and hikers, dog owners, gardeners and anyone who lives in the urban-wildland interface needs to be aware that we share our community with a wide range of reptiles, including this Southern Pacific rattlesnake. Photo @ 2015 S. Guldimann

We are blessed with an abundance of snakes in Malibu, the National Park Service lists a total of 14 species in the area, but the ones most often encountered are the shy ring-necked snake that feasts on slugs;  the beautiful and aptly named king snake; the gopher snake, which lives up to its name and preys on the bane of local gardeners; and the only venomous snake in the area, the Southern Pacific rattlesnake.

The biggest snake in Malibu is unquestionably Legacy Park's giant California mountain king snake. This mosaic sculpture is the only king snake likely to be encountered in much of coastal Malibu. When I was a child, the live version of this spectacular snake was a common Point Dume garden resident, along with its close relative, the black-and-yellow-striped California king snake, but development and habitat loss has pushed the range of both species back into the Santa Monica Mountains. This is unfortunate, since one of the king snake's favorite menu items is the rattlesnake. Photo: S. Guldimann

No one ever mistakes a king snake or a ringneck for a rattlesnake, but gopher snakes are another matter. This species mimics the rattler's markings and even its behavior, which may help protect it from predators, but does little to reassure humans.

The ringneck snake, Diadophis punctatus, is probably one of the most common garden snakes in Malibu, but its rarely seen, despite its dramatic coloring. The ringneck hunts for worms and slugs. It's harmless, beneficial, quite pretty, and not remotely frightening. It rarely grows to be more than a foot and a half long, and is an expert at not being seen. Photo: NPS

Spotting a snake in an unexpected place can be a shock, but it is the snake one doesn't see that usually causes problems. The vast majority of rattlesnake bites occur when the human victim of the bite accidentally comes into contact with an unseen snake. 

I was reminded of this the other day when the Loyal Dog and I were pottering in the garden. I bent to pick up a dead branch and found that the stick had been magically transformed into a snake. Fortunately, it was a gopher snake, not a rattlesnake, but the experience was a shock and reminder to me to pay attention.

We like to think of ourselves as experienced naturalists here at the Malibu Post, ready to encounter new creatures with aplomb and panache and things like that. I'm afraid this discovery elicited a shriek of horror. If you are going to mistake a snake for a stick, it's much better to make the mistake with a harmless gopher snake than a venomous rattlesnake, but it was still unnerving. Photo: S. Guldimann

With humans, bites to the ankle are estimated to be the most common, followed by bites to the hand and lower arm. With dogs and horses, noses are are often the bite location, as the curious mammal attempts to take a closer look at the snake.

A gopher snake really will mimic the rattlesnake, curling up and waving the end of its tail in a fairly convincing imitation of its venomous cousin. The California Herps website has an amazing video documenting this phenomenon. The quick movement masks the fact that the gopher snake has a slender tail and no rattles. Gopher snakes have small, narrow heads and their eyes have round pupils, although a dark mark under each eye can create the illusion of a vertical pupil. 

Here's a close-up of the gopher snake's eye. The pupil is round, but the dark mark makes it look—at first glance—like the vertical pupil of the rattlesnake. Photo: S. Guldimann

This is the Mexican ridge-nosed rattlesnake. It's not a local species, but it was the best example I could find of that verticle pupil that is a characteristic of all rattlesnakes. The coral snake is the only dangerously venomous North American snake that doesn't have the diamond-shaped head, and we do not have coral snakes in California. The Southern Pacific rattlesnake is Malibu's only venomous snake. There are several other rattlesnake species in Southern California, including the highly venomous Mojave green, but it is limited to inland areas. Photo: Robert S. Simmons, USFWS, via Wikipedia Commons

Rattlesnakes store their venom in their heads, giving them the distinctive diamond-shaped skull. Their eyes have a vertical pupil and they tend to be thicker and more robust than gopher snakes. If in doubt, it’s better not to take a closer look, especially since young rattlesnakes may lack the characteristic rattle, but can still deliver a dangerous bite.

This young Southern Pacific rattlesnake was snoozing under a piece of bark just feet from dozens of walkers at Paramount Ranch in Agoura Hills. You can see the distinctive diamond-shaped head that is characteristic of rattlesnakes, and the pattern, which can be bright and distinct as it is here, or so dark the snake appears almost solid black. Photo: S. Guldimann

In the first seconds of surprise at seeing a snake it can be hard to tell the species apart. According to a news report, an Idyllwild man was just bitten by a rattlesnake he mistook for a gopher snake. 

“I was just trying to shoo the snake out of the wood pile,” the 55-year-old Idyllwild resident told the Press Enterprise. “I thought it was a gopher snake, but it was a rattlesnake.”

The gopher snake has the same general color scheme as the Southern Pacific rattlesnake, but it's skinnier and tapers to a narrow, somewhat pointy head. If in doubt, just keep away. It's not worth making a mistake.

Staying on trails and away from deep brush, grass or rocks is the best way to avoid encounters with rattlesnakes. Never placing a hand or foot in an area where you can't visually scan for snakes is also key. 

I was once told by longtime snake wrangler Bruce Freeman that the other kind of rattlesnake bite risk starts with the words "hold my beer and watch this." His advice for dealing with snakes is to "always bring your brain."

According to snake wrangler Bruce Freeman, wearing hightop hiking shoes, thick socks and denim or twill pants really can protect hikers from snakebite. They may be comfortable, but minimalist trail running shoes are not advisable, especially when runners are out in the evening, when snakes are more likely to be in the open, using the warmth of the exposed trail to help thermoregulate.

He also recommends wearing high-top hiking and running shoes, and twill or denim pants for extra protection. Trail runners are at greater risk from snakebite than hikers, since they move faster and don't have time to look where they are putting their feet. 

Snakes can show up where they are least expected. Rattlesnakes often venture into Malibu gardens, and have been known to make their way into houses through open doors or even pet flaps. 

More than one Malibu family has heard a rattlesnake, displeased with finding itself in the laundry room or bathroom, making use of its rattle—which creates more of a hiss or a buzz than a rattling sound. It's a testament to the generally peace-loving nature of the snake that bites are not more common.

Here's a selection of audio samples of the rattling sound.

The number of "buttons" in the snake's rattle is not an indicator of age. This snake has four rattles, but that Lego-like knub at the end of the rattle indicates where additional buttons have broken off. A new button grows every time the snake sheds its skin. Young snakes shed more often than older snakes and all snakes may shed multiple times during the year depending on conditions. Photo: S. Guldimann

While snake fencing—fencing material that is buried several inches underground, can help reduce encounters with snakes it can’t eliminate them entirely, since rattlesnakes can travel under the fencing via gopher holes. A snake pole—a shepherd’s crook designed to safely move snakes, can be a helpful tool.  Making sure doors stay closed, and that screens don't have holes in them is important, too. 

There are  a number of local snake wranglers who will remove rattlers and safely relocate them away from human habitation for a fee. Calling an expert is by far the best option when a rattlesnake shows up in a house or garden. 

California Poison Control receives nearly 300 calls a year about rattlesnake bites. Children and small animals are at the greatest risk for serious complications or death. Some bites are "dry," a warning from the snake, who doesn't want to waste venom on something it knows it isn't going to eat, but all rattlesnake bites require immediate medical attention. The venom contains a powerful hemotoxin that attacks tissue and can damage the heart and cause organ failure and necrosis in severe cases. 

There is no way of knowing if the victim has received venom or a dry bite when the incident occurs and antivenin is essential for the patient's survival. Just because people rarely die from rattlesnake bites doesn't mean a bite can't be fatal—an estimated four or five bite victims die annually. The venom can also cause the loss of a limb. A rattlesnake bite is always a serious medical emergency.

One would think this means the rattlesnake would be safe from predators, but that's not the case. Rattlesnakes are venomous, not poisonous, and many species—including some humans, eat them (supposedly they taste like, you guessed it, chicken). Rattlers are preyed on not only by king snakes, which are immune to their venom, but by hawks, owls, weasels and road runners—species that use speed and evasion to avoid getting bitten.

Rattlesnakes, like gopher snakes, primarily dine on rodents, including gophers and ground squirels. They're an important part of the local ecosystem, just not a welcome backyard wildlife species.

According to the National Park Service, common Malibu-area snakes include the gopher snake (Pituophis catenifer), California kingsnake (Lampropeltus getulus), mountain kingsnake (Lampropeltus zonata), California striped racer (Masticophis lateralis), red coachwhip (Masticophis flagellum), two-striped garter snake (Thamnophis hammondii), blackhead snake (Tantilla planiceps), ringneck snake (Diadophis punctatus), and the yellowbelly racer(Coluber constrictor). Other less common species include the blind snake (Leptotyphlops humilis), coast patch-nosed snake (Salvadora hexalepis), night snake (Hypsiglena torquata), and the lyre snake (Trimorphodon biscutatus). Most of us will never encounter even half this list, but it's good to know who our reptilian neighbors are.

The Mountains Restoration Trust offers rattlesnake avoidance training for canines. It's not a pleasant experience for dogs or their owners but it can be a lifesaver for those who live in rattlesnake habitat or who frequently walk with their dogs in the mountains. 

I was covering a workshop on the master plan for Malibu Bluffs Park recently for the Malibu Surfside News. A young father with two boys said he never takes them to Malibu's Legacy Park because there are signs warning of the presence of rattlesnakes. He asked that any future recreational development at Bluffs Park exclude rattlesnakes, apparently unaware that the park is already home to the species, in addition to plenty of other wildlife.

Rattlesnakes can turn up almost anywhere. They even sometimes end up on the beach during winter storms, when canyon debris and reptile stowaways can be carried downstream onto the sand.

The presence of wildlands and wildlife is one of the things that draws people to the community and why our city is part of the largest urban national park in the world, the Santa Monica Mountains National Recreation Area. 

Rattlesnakes are part of that ecosystem and one of the natural hazards of living here. It's up to us to stay alert and on good terms with all our neighbors, on two feet, four feet, or no feet. I forgot the snake wrangler's advice the other day. It was an important wake-up call. Next time I head for the garden or the hiking trails I'll make sure to bring my brain.

Be safe out there.

Suzanne Guldimann

3 July 2015

The Malibu Post's backyard gopher snake goes about its business.

Hic Sunt Dracones—Here There Be Dragons

It doesn't actually say "here there be dragons," but Swedish mapmaker Olaus Magnus' "Carta Marina," created between 1527-39, warns of the perils of straying into undiscovered country with vivid and creative depictions of a strange and terrifying assortment of sea monsters.

We were talking of DRAGONS, Tolkien and I

In a Berkshire bar. The big workman

Who had sat silent and sucked his pipe

All the evening, from his empty mug

With gleaming eye glanced towards us:

"I seen 'em myself!" he said fiercely.

—C.S. Lewis

“I do not care what comes after; I have seen the dragons on the wind of morning.” 

—Ursula K. Le Guin

Hic Sunt dracones—here there be dragons, the words that once warned that the explorer was venturing off the map and into the unknown, still have the power to conjure marvels, even in an era of information overload where the monsters that lurked at the edge of the map have been vanquished to the realm of fiction. There may be maps to everything on every iPhone, Pad and Pod, but we are still drawn to the unknown. And it's comforting to know that while there may not be dragons there are still marvels.

Even the most jaded and world-weary citizen of the 21st century might find it easy to believe in dragons at sunset on a winter evening on the beach in Malibu, when there's a good chance of catching a glimpse of dolphins, sea lions and migrating gray whales.

The Bay Area and the Central Coast have a long tradition of sea monster sightings. Even the Channel Islands have their share—most notably a Loch Ness Monster-like creature off San Clemente Island, but for some reason, Malibu seems sadly deficient in the sea monster department (except for the occasional oar fish), which is surprising, considering the abundance of marine mammals that congregate off shore.

However, while one may know perfectly well that what one is looking at must be a marine mammal and not some strange cryptid, getting a good enough look to tell what it is can be a challenge. All of our marine mammal species can look remarkably like something that would be right at home among the sea monsters on the map at the top of the page.

Gray whales—looking as mysterious and massive as any of the sea monsters on the edges of Olaus Magnus' map—congregate in the shallow water of Westward Beach at sunset on a January evening. All photographs © 2015 S. Guldimann

We share our stretch of coast with an amazing assortment of marine mammals, including sea lions; harbor seals; Northern elephant seals; bottlenose dolphins, Pacific white-sided dolphins, Risso's dolphins; common dolphins; orca; gray whales; fin whales; humpback whales; minke whales; and blue whales, the largest animal on earth. 

The presence of these species is one of the reasons why much of the Malibu coast is designated an area of special biological concern and why the waters off Point Dume are now part of California's network of underwater reserves, officially known as Marine Protected Areas. 

Most of the larger marine mammals keep to the deep water well away from shore, but migrating gray whales often stay near the coast on the way to and from their breeding grounds in Baja. 

I wrote an article on the winter migration for a recent issue of the Malibu Surfside News. It wasn't my finest hour as a journalist. I cut out a section on the comparative size of the different whale species and ended up saying that the fin whale is smaller than the gray whale. It most definitely isn't. 

The fin whale is second only to the great blue whale in size. According to the American Cetacean Society, fin whales can grow to more than 80 feet long and weigh as much as 70 tons. Blues can grow to more than 100 feet in length and weigh more than 100 tons. Gray whales, in comparison, grow to a mere 40-50 feet in length and weigh an average of 30-40 tons.

A gray whale surfaces near shore at Zuma. 

Grays may be small compared to other cetaceans, but a 50-foot-whale surfacing just beyond the surfbreak is an awe-inspiring sight, and a surprisingly frequent one along the shore in Malibu from December through April.

That's a gray whale calf spouting, and not a Malibu species of the Loch Ness Monster, despite appearances.

Gray whales are the most commonly observed nearshore whale species, but fin whales, humpbacks and even blues can occasionally be spotted with the help of a pair of binoculars. Blue whales and fin whales exhale a cone-shaped spout of water that can be 30 feet high, while humpbacks produce a roundish, 10-foot-tall spout. Looking for the tell-tale blast of white water is often the easiest way to spot whales. 

Whales can be hard to spot, despite their size. Looking for spouts can be the best way to locate them. 

Sometimes the presence of sea birds and dolphins indicates there are whales in the area. Any disturbance in the water is worth a closer look with binoculars or a zoom lens.

Two gray whales followed by a triangular fin—evidence of a dolphin escort. 

Many dolphin species also prefer deep water. It's rare to encounter Dall's porpoise or Risso's dolphin near shore, but both species can be found off Point Dume where the continental shelf drops off into deep water. 

This unfortunate Risso's dolphin washed up dead just north of Leo Carrillo State Park. I've never seen a live one close to shore, although they are common in the deep water further out, where they gather in large pods.

Dall's porpoise—a compact, small member of the dolphin family with black and white coloring that looks a little like the orca's—seems to prefer cold water and reportedly only turns up in winter.

Risso's dolphins are large (10-13 feet long), blunt-nosed dolphins that also go by the wonderful name "grampus."  They are often seen in the channel, where they gather in large pods, often with other dolphin and whale species, but they almost never come close to shore.

The most frequently encountered dolphins at Malibu's beaches are the bottlenose dolphin, the common dolphin and the Pacific white-sided dolphin. White-sided dolphins are usually seen farther out, but they sometimes come fairly close to shore. However, the common and bottlenose dolphins will swim right into the surf and are often seen along the coast just yards from the beach. 

Although these look like they ought to be Pacific white-sided dolphins, they are common dolphins. The common dolphin is widely distributed and can be found around the world. It's the dolphin that is Apollo's sacred messenger in Greek mythology. It's also sacred to the Chumash people. We do occasionally get a visit from another, much larger, member of the dolphin family that also has distinctive white patches—the orca, but confirmed sightings are relatively rare.

Here's a helpful size and shape comparison of the bottlenose and common dolphin, borrowed from Wikipedia. The top dolphin (image created by Kuzon) is the larger, longer, bottlenose dolphin. The bottom image (created by Chris Huh) shows a common dolphin.

It can often be hard to identify what one is seeing. In this case, the size of the animal in comparison to the surfers, and the shape of its fin indicate this is a bottlenose dolphin.

Here's the same bottlenose dolphin with what appears to be a smaller common dolphin. 

The most conspicuous marine mammal in Malibu has to be the sea lion. These gregarious, intelligent, noisy and fun-loving pinnipeds are a favorite here at the Malibu Post. One of my first articles for the blog was about them, and I never get tired of observing them.

Harbor seals and Northern elephant seals also occasionally visit the Malibu coast. Adult elephant seals are massive—males can be 16 feet long and weigh more than 5000 pounds. They spend much of their lives in the open ocean and are rarely seen near the shore in Malibu. 

However, young pups are occasionally spotted on the beach here, either resting or sometimes in distress (injured or ill marine mammals should be reported to the California Wildlife Center's marine mammal rescue team—310-458-WILD, and donations are urgently needed this time of year to supply rescued animals with medical care and the huge quantities of fish they need to eat during recovery).

A trio of sea lions play in the surf of Point Dume. Surfers may think they invented the laid-back, fun-loving California beach lifestyle, but the sea lions were already the living embodiment of that sun-and-fun philosophy long before the first human surfer arrived on the scene.

Harbor seals are less numerous in Malibu than their sea lion cousins, but there are usually a few around, especially in western Malibu. Elephant and harbor seals lack the powerful front fins that enable sea lions to move quickly and efficiently on land and are rarely seen on the shore—Malibu's beaches probably aren't secluded enough. Like sea lion and dolphins, harbor seals are intelligent and curious and like to check out what the swimmers or divers are up to. They've also been known to drop in on surfers. 

Elephant and harbor seals are sleek, strong underwater swimmers and are hard to spot in the water. If what you are watching is leaping out of the water like a mad acrobat, or popping up to watch you watching it, it's probably a sea lion.

Could this, at last, be a sighting of an elusive Malibu sea monster? It looks like a fairly convincing sea serpent, the sort that wraps sinuous coils around ships and squeeze them to bits.

Alas, this Loch Ness Monster look-alike is just part of the Point Dume sea lion colony, on their way home to the rookery for the night. 

The only authentic sea monster I know of in Malibu is this one, and it swims not in the sea but in my friends' Point Dume garden.

The American Cetacean Society offers all kinds of useful information on whales and dolphins, and the Los Angeles chapter, which is currently seeking whale census volunteers, provides links to whale watching trips, daily updates on the census, and much more on its website. Both sites are well worth a visit.

There are all kinds of opportunities to learn about the things that once existed beyond the edges of the map and that even today we are only just beginning to understand. One of the best opportunities is simply taking the time to go and look. Who knows what one might see? 

Suzanne Guldimann
21 January 2015

A mama and baby gray whale rest in the calm water off Point Dume.

Where the Wild Things Are

A trail camera in a Malibu garden captures an image of a night visitor. Coyotes are just one of many wild animal species that make their homes among us. All photos © 2014 Suzanne Guldimann

Let the wild rumpus begin!

—Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are

In Malibu you don't have to go far to find where the wild things are. They are right here, living parallel lives that rarely intersect with their humans neighbors, despite the fact that we all occupy the same neighborhoods.

At the Malibu Post we've been monitoring some of our local wildlife for the past four months with the help of a trail camera. It's an illuminating experience. 

I was anticipating catching the local coyotes at work when I set the camera up. We see constant evidence of their presence: footprints, scat, and holes dug in pursuit of gophers, although this wily wild canine is rarely seen in person. But the very first photo we captured wasn't a coyote, it was this shy beauty:

Madam Bobcat is a silent secret presence in the night garden, where she hunts for rabbits, and rodents. Unlike the coyotes, she leaves no trace of her presence.

I was astonished. I had no idea there was a bobcat in the area, but I learned that a friend who lives nearby has seen her so often that she refers to her as "my bobcat."

The bobcat is shy and secretive. We rarely get a photo of all of her, but we know now that she is a presence in the garden. Bobcats are generally solitary and require a large territory—at least a square mile for females and nearly twice that for males, according to the Urban Carnivore website. 

Bobcats are bigger than a house cat and look impressively wild, with spots and stripes and enormous paws, but they are not a threat to humans and prefer to avoid confrontations. they are also much smaller than most people realize, usually weighing no more than 15-18 pounds. Urban legend provides many colorful tall tales of wildcats attacking people and pets, but National Park Service biologists who have been studying the local bobcat population for over a decade, maintain that there is absolutely no credible evidence of a bobcat ever attacking a human or eating domestic cats or dogs. Bobcats are obligate carnivores, but they primarily hunt rabbits and rodents like ground squirrels, gophers and wood rats. Unfortunately, this puts them at high risk for secondary poisoning from anticoagulant rodenticides. Research indicates that the impact of poison on the bobcat's immune system can lead to death from manage and from a condition called chronic wasting disease.

Madam Bobcat performs a disappearing act, slipping through a gap in the fence in broad daylight. You can just see her nose and her ears, illuminated by the sun. A blueline stream nearby and a buffer zone of riparian habitat, including deep thickets—and plenty of poison oak that keeps human interlopers out—provides shelter and a wildlife corridor for animals like bobcats, who may include gardens in their nightly rounds but require secure places to den and to raise their young.

This is the wild thing I expected to photograph—Malibu's resident trickster spirit, the coyote. I haven't been disappointed. The remote camera, with its motion detector and infrared flash, has recorded the previously unseen adventures of a pair of coyotes.

After carefully checking to make sure the coast is clear, the coyote squeezes through the same small gap in the fence that the bobcat uses. This is a tiny space, barely nine inches high and less than two feet across. This coyote arrived at 3:02 a.m., and left, for a reason she didn't bother to share, two minutes later. 

Mischief managed, I guess. Or perhaps she received word from her mate informing her that the gophers were better on the other side of the fence. Coyotes sing to communicate with the other members of their family, not while hunting, which would defeat the point of being sneaky and stealthy. The local coyotes appear to live in a small family group consisting of a mated pair and their young. They sometimes hunt cooperatively, especially while the youngsters are learning to fend for themselves, but they absolutely do not hunt in giant packs, no matter what local urban legend claims. Coyotes are also smaller than most people realize, rarely weighing more than 35 pounds.

There are always coyotes and many other species of wildlife living among us, whether we are aware of them or not, but the drought has greatly increased contact with humans, sometimes with tragic results for households pets. Pet owners are strongly encouraged to keep cats indoors and make sure small dogs have a safely fenced enclosure and are always walked on a leash.

This coyote is not sure what to think of the infrared flash on the remote camera. Coyotes are intelligent and curious, qualities that help them to adapt and survive in urban environments. 

Coyotes look big, but a lot of their bulk is fur. They can fit through remarkably small gaps and are capable of jumping a six foot fence. Anyone who wants to keep coyotes out of their space should make sure that there aren't any gaps in their fences or gates. Coyote rollers—rotating pipes that prevent coyotes from climbing over fences are easy to install. There are DIY and manufactured options on the Internet. 

There are a lot of urban legends about coyotes and bobcats. The truth is, they are fragile, intelligent, flesh-and-blood animals not that different in behavior from the dogs and cats that share our lives as companion animals.

Unlike the bobcat, coyotes are omnivores. They dig for gophers and ground squirrels and are expert mousers, and yes, they will catch and eat cats and small dogs if they get the chance, but they also eat fruit and insects and anything remotely edible that humans leave outside, including bird seed and BBQ drippings. Coyotes leave scat in the open as a sort of canine calling card, so it's relatively easy to determine what they've been eating at a glance. Lately, ours have been feasting on pomegranates—they wait until the fruit splits open, then pull them off the lower branches, eat the good parts and leave the empty rind behind. They've also been eating large quantities of palm tree fruit, potato bugs and snails. The snails surprised me, but they are abundant, easy to catch and probably provide plenty of protein and moisture—necessities in short supply during drought conditions.

The coyotes and Madam Bobcat aren't the only animals to use the gap in the fence. Rabbits also travel this way. These fierce and intrepid lagomorphs are busy in the garden day and night, and not only thrive but appear to enjoy every minute of their lives despite being at the bottom of the food chain and in constant danger.

There are other garden visitors that have so far eluded the camera: the raccoons that fish for tadpoles in the creek and for koi in a neighbor's pond; the ferocious, secretive long-tailed weasel, glimpsed only twice in all the years we've lived here; and the gray foxes we sometimes hear yipping at the moon on winter nights but rarely ever see.

The sight of a gray fox is so rare that I felt inspired to write a poem commemorating my first encounter with this elusive species in 2008. 

The Fox

I walked on the beach on a winter’s day,

In a moment snatched between rain showers,

When the sea and the sky were pewter gray,

Empty and lonely as the dawn hours.

I heard a curlew’s sweet sorrowing cry,

As bright and clear as the evening star.

I watched a little gray shadow slip by,

Secret as a ghost, across the sand bar,

Between the sea and the storm-swollen creek.

Along the shore I watched him lightly flit

Chasing the silly plover, not to seek

To catch one, but just for the joy of it.

He left his footprints for the tide to fill—

As proof for me that what I’d seen was true:

That foxes live here also, even still.

I’ve lived here all my life and never knew.

After encountering the fox, the bobcat shouldn't have been a surprise, but it was. And it makes me wonder what other unseen creatures may be quietly living among us. 

Henry David Thoreau famously wrote "in wildness is the preservation of the world." One doesn't need to travel to remote corners of the world to find that wildness, it's often just outside the door.  And while no one is thrilled when the skunks take up residence under the deck or the coyotes hold a wild rumpus under the bedroom window at 3 a.m., most Malibu residents appreciate what a gift it is to live in a place that still has room for wild things.

Suzanne Guldimann
16 November 2014

We rarely see coyotes by daylight, but this one appeared right in time for the birthday of the Malibu Surfside New's founder and former editor and publisher Anne Soble. Anne was (and is) an advocate for all wildlife but especially for coyotes. She often devoted her editorials to the issue of conservation and peaceful coexistence with this remarkable wild canine. So it seems entirely appropriate that a coyote should stop by to pay his respects on that particular day. He is one of the celestial beings in Chumash cosmology, after all. One of the Sky People, a creator, shapeshifter, hero, trickster and messenger.