Ode to the Wellington Leopard Seal

 A few days ago Wellington had a unique visitor - all the way from Antarctica. A leopard seal dragged its way up the beach and lay down. For three days and two nights, it rested at Fryberg beach.

Fryberg Beach is basically the hub of open-water swimming in Wellington. I found out about the seal through the Spud Buds group chat. Corrina was the first to spot it. She sent through four photos, and a message saying "Leopard seal (I think)". And then another message saying "(I stayed well back)". When asked "Is it alive?" Corrina responded "Very much so. Huge teeth!"

The seals' arrival coincided with a bought of stormy weather. Not sure if that is correlation or causation! When I first got to the beach I had forgotten about the seal - and thought the yellow tape was a warning about the water quality. However, just behind the tape on the sand sat a giant worm-looking thing. A real-life Leopard seal!

Leopard seals are a pretty rare sight to see, especially in Aotearoa. They usually live in Antarctica, but on rare occasions, they travel up further north. The guideline for keeping distance from seals is a minimum of 20 metres, and dogs and pets should be kept away from them.  

There's not much information about the interaction between Leopard Seals and humans. The only known fatality was in Antarctica in 2003. A Leopard seal sadly pulled a snorkelling researcher down for six minutes. There is also the story of the National Geographic photographer, who documented a Leopard seal bringing him dead penguins. It was theorised that the seal may have been trying to teach him how to hunt (The story of this is amazing, I highly recommend: https://roaring.earth/feed-photographer/ )

Leopard seals can travel up to 40km an hour, live up to 26 years, and weigh up to 600 kg! Just like sharks, Leopard seals are pretty much apex predators (although they do get eaten by Orca whales). They eat fish and smaller seals. On the same day the Leopard seal arrived, other baby fur seals were found on train tracks and under people's doorsteps. We joked that maybe the baby seals knew there was something formidable hunting in the Wellington waters. Corrina reckons that our Fryberg resident Leopard seal had just eaten some seals - as its belly was very rotund when it first arrived! 

The next few days I regularly visited the seal on my way to and from Fryberg Pool. Occasionally I saw it breathe, shiver, or wriggle. But mostly it was still. Seals could probably teach us humans a lot about rest. Its mouth curved around slightly, which made it look like it was smiling. Something about it reminded me of Hudson (our dog). It just looked so cute and peaceful.

Every time I came down there was always a crowd of people, standing in the rain quietly watching it. It was like watching people in a museum, looking at an art exhibit. After my pool swims, I edged carefully along the very far side of the beach to get into the ocean (staying 20m away of course). Usually, I let out a big scream after going underwater. Being in cold water is always a shock, and screaming feels like a way of releasing that shock. But I didn't want to frighten the seal, so I took some deep breaths and slowly slid underwater without a sound.

On Saturday morning, Adriana and I hovered in our togs underneath the outdoor shelter. The gaps in the roof didn't do much to keep off the rain, and my feet felt like blocks of ice on the concrete. But still, we stood there. The seal had returned to the sea, but it had left in its wake a community of unsure swimmers. The waters were empty of the usual scatterings of bright tow floats and swim caps. Everyone was walking around talking to each other, trying to figure out if they wanted to go in the water. After a false alarm (a baby fur seal spotted in the bay over) one solitary man waded into the water and took the plunge. He swam out to the buoy and wasn't immediately eaten. After that, it was like a tap had been loosened, and swimmers started pouring into the water in twos and threes. 

Even though the seal had gone, I decided I wanted to be quiet getting into the water again. Screaming feels like a release, like a big "fuck you" to all the ways we are expected to behave in public, to curb our excitement and joy in order to not look crazy. But getting in so calmly the day beforehand had felt more sacred somehow. Like I was more part of the ocean. It made me realise that screaming probably makes my body panic. Just after we passed the fountain, it turned on. We turned back and sprinted toward it. Being under the fountain feels like being in the middle of a snowstorm. Pelts of freezing water slam into your face, and the world becomes a haze of white. I never want to forget how good it feels to soak up these moments. It's so easy when training for something big, to take it all so seriously. To forget how important it is to lose yourself in how beautiful the water looks and feels. To forget that there is a whole world living silently beneath us. A world we need to fiercely protect with everything we've got.   

Underneath the fountain is the only time I have ever been inside a rainbow. The rainbow from the water arcs over you, but you are also directly in it. This moment right here, is the pot of gold.

Harae rā Leopard Seal, and safe journey. 

Ngā mihi nui,

Bre

xxx

The Wellington Leopard Seal, Photo Credit to Mark Jones