Honolulu Star-Advertiser © Susan Scott
April 15, 1996
WHAT happens when a dwindling species gets protected, makes a comeback, then becomes such a nuisance that people want to start killing it again?
That’s the $64,000 question in Seattle lately, where a group of clever California sea lions has figured out the Ballard Locks fish ladders.
Actually, there’s not much ingenuity required. People built fish ladders because the locks between Puget Sound and Lake Washington prevent steelhead trout from returning to their freshwater spawning grounds. Such ladders enable steelheads to climb the locks and enter the lake.
Since finding fish is a sea lion’s job, this, naturally, is where a bunch of them loiter. They are amply rewarded by this choice of hangouts.
Sea lion number 17, named Hondo, is the biggest California sea lion on record, weighing 1,084 pounds. The usual range for these adult male sea lions is 750 pounds to 1,000 pounds.
Hondo and his cohorts are being blamed, in part, for the depleted stocks of steelhead trout.
Because of this shortage, many people want the sea lions gone. Air horns, firecrackers and rubber bullets, however, did not permanently scare the sea lions away. Neither did net barriers, transporting several of the culprits 900 miles south or locking up Hondo in a zoo for a season.
WHEN the dust settled, the sea lions were back. Now the state of Washington has received federal approval to shoot the worst offenders.
My question is this: What is a steelhead trout anyway?
Seriously. What are trout doing wandering around in the ocean? I thought trout were fly-eating fish living in rushing, Rocky Mountain streams.
Indeed they are. The surprise is that humans put them there. In fact, humans have transplanted these natives of the North American West Coast to rivers and streams all over the world. And there they thrive.
Rainbow trout are perfectly happy spawning and living their entire lives in fresh water, while steelhead trout need the ocean to live – and they’re both the same species.
They are, however, different races. Steelheads are called the sea-run race; rainbows are the freshwater race.
So. Back to sea lions. Will killing the biggest sea lions chowing down at the Ballard Locks help the steelhead situation? Maybe. But not for long.
In this world of survival of the fattest, other sea lions will soon be the kings of the locks and grow equally large. Then wildlife officials will again be faced with a difficult decision.
And this is a tough situation for wildlife workers. Although they are depicted as the bad guys in this by animal-rights activists, I can’t imagine one marine biologist I know enjoying the prospect of shooting a sea lion, especially such a prime specimen as Hondo.
I can’t see how killing three or four of a zillion sea lions is going to help the fish for long.
And neither can animal-rights activists. Some are threatening to sue, and others are rowing around in little boats near the Ballard Locks wearing red bull’s-eye targets.
The latest word from Seattle is that a marine park in Florida has offered to take five of the worst fish felons.
“No,” say the activists. “These wild animals should not be imprisoned. Redesign the locks so the sea lions can’t get the fish so easily.”
Rebuilding the fish ladders is a good answer. The rub is that it would cost a fortune in tax dollars. Trout and salmon (also suffering critical shortages) have lived with seals and sea lions for eons and have done just fine.
It’s we humans that have messed up the balance of their world; it’s we humans who should pay the price.