The sociable sea lions are doing what they do best

They’re back. Not the poltergeists. The sea lions. They’re back,

they’re fat, and they’re honkin’. Everyone likes those laughable,

lovable clowns of the sea with the big flippers and the funny bark.

Everyone except the people who live near them, that is. As you know,

earlier this year, a gaggle of the noisy, seriously overweight sea

critters took a shine to a floating barge in Newport Harbor, and the

nonstop, round-the-clock honking drove most folks within earshot to

drink or tears or both. The barge belongs to the Pacific Fisheries

Enhancement Foundation and despite their best efforts to keep it

fenced in, locked up and off limits, the sea lions were always one

step and two honks ahead of them. The sea lions would disappear while

yet another barrier or lock was being installed and then clamber back

aboard before the locksmith got back to his truck. Sea lions are one

of the smartest mammals, comparable to dolphins and light years ahead

of Florida voters.

By late summer, the sea lions were large and in charge and acting

as if they owned the place. Bored with the barge, they moved onto

anything that floats, especially boats with swim steps. They love

boats with swim steps. Over Labor Day weekend, a rowdy group of the

big salty boys threw a major rager to celebrate the holiday on a

37-foot sailboat and sunk it under their collective weight. How many

sea lions does it take to sink a sailboat? Not many. Humans worry

about their waistlines. Sea lions do not. In fact, they don’t have

waistlines. California sea lions weigh in at about 250 pounds for

girls and 750 pounds for boys. Their larger, more northern cousins,

the Steller sea lions, tip the scales at 750 to 1,500 pounds, with

the largest males weighing in at a ton or more. Don’t call them

seals, by the way. That really hurts their feelings. They are cousins

to seals, who are much quieter I might add, but not true seals.

Greta Garbo may have wanted to be alone, but sea lions don’t. They

are very social animals -- an unfortunate truth for anyone living

nearby. They love to lie around in large groups for hours on end at

one of their favorite “haul out” spots, which can be virtually

anything that floats. One of the their all-time fav spots is Pier 39

near San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf, where more than 900 of them

can be seen at times, snuggling and honking up a storm. Eventually,

the boat owners and small businesses that were using the pier just

gave up and turned the whole area over to the sea lions, and it’s now

a no-charge tourist attraction.

An even more unfortunate zoological truth for someone living near

sea lions is that they are the most vocal of all the mammals. The

incessant barking and honking is how they stake out their territory,

especially the males. Each male keeps a harem of up to 15 females

which, I would think, would leave them unable to either move or honk,

but apparently not. They may be fat, but they’re fast, able to swim

up to 25 mph, which makes them one of the fastest mammals in the sea.

Sea lion trivia aside, what can be done when sea lions become

noisy neighbors? Not much. Sea lions are protected by a boatload of

federal and state laws. Get it -- a boatload? It’s like a joke. They

can’t be harmed or harassed, obviously, but the U.S. Marine Mammal

Protection Act also makes interfering with their natural behavior in

any way a federal offense. About all anyone can do is eliminate or

minimize whatever is attracting them. That’s exactly what the city’s

Harbor Commission did last Wednesday when members voted to suspend

the floating barge’s mooring permit and to draft some new rules that

would ban feeding sea lions and dumping fish remains into the harbor.

Personally, I think putting the kibosh on the last part is a darn

fine idea, sea lions or not.

But if you think the local sea lions do not have their supporters,

you are mistaken, as evidenced by this week’s slate of sea

lion-related letters to the Daily Pilot. I haven’t seen this spirited

a round of point-counterpoint missives since the ficus trees on Main

Street. Some random excerpts: “The sea lions have definitely worn out

their welcome with me.” “My husband and I also hear the sea lions; we

enjoy listening to them and have no problem falling asleep.” “The

Harbor Patrol should post a permanent watch to shoo them off boats or

any other place they try to roost.” “So what if the sea lions who

make Newport Harbor their home are barking? That’s what sea lions

do.” “I should think these animals could be picked up and relocated

at some sea lion-friendly place, suitably distant.” “I think it’s

appalling that you would even print something like this at the time

of Hurricane Katrina.”

Where will it all end? As always, I have no idea. But if I had to

bet, my money is on the sea lions. Where does a 1,200-pound sea lion

park it? Wherever he wants. “One touch of nature makes the whole

world kin,” said Shakespeare. But could we ease up a little on the

honking, fellas? Geez. Where are the seals when you need them? I

gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs

Sundays. He may be reached by e-mail at o7ptrb4@aol.comf7.