01x10 - Return of the Sea Elephants

[bunniefuu]

Far back in the haze of Earth history,

the ineluctable pressures of change

evolved one of the most enduring
creatures of the natural world,

the sea elephants.



the lives of these uniquely specialized
mammals remains basically unchanged,

a primitive drama in four acts,

combat, mating, birth, and death.

The arena for this living theater is a
small remote Pacific island, Guadalupe,

last refuge of the great
northern sea elephants.



Calypso enters the waters of Guadalupe,

island home of the great
northern sea elephant.

Our divers have gone ahead of the ship

to approach the island as the
sea elephants might have done

when they first arrived here.

For the divers it is a strange realm

where plant life is luxuriant but
where fish life is extremely sparse.

Guadalupe is a true oceanic island

which blew out of the ocean
in a series of eruptions

nearly seven million years ago.

The maze of vegetation clinging
to its undersea rocks and cliffs

tells the incredible story of
Guadalupe's capacity to support life.

In its warm waters,
nearly 70 degrees,

even the ancient wanderer of the sea,
the northern sea elephant,

would find a new home.

The origin of the sea elephant
lies buried in time.

Some believe that they first appeared
on land as dog-like creatures.

Later, they adapted to a life in the
sea more than 20 million years ago.

While the nomadic sea elephants

came to spend more than seven months
of their life each year in the open sea,

they would always be tied to the
land to mate and bear their young.

Foreboding Guadalupe

has been the northern sea elephants'
main breeding home for centuries.

Badgered then hunted.

They had been driven from their
traditional mainland beaches

by early explorers.

Here on Guadalupe they flourished

until men appeared and once
again threatened their survival.

To minimize disturbance of
the animals once on shore,

Cousteau and his cameramen bring
only a small landing party to the beach.

Marine biologist Dr. Ted Walker,
son Philippe,

and crew member Raymond Canoe.

Eighty years ago there were few
signs of life on these beaches.

The sea elephants had been slaughtered
and were nearly extinct.

Under protection by the Mexican
government since 1911,

they have made one of the
most spectacular recoveries

in the natural world.

The opportunity to study
their lives and behavior

has attracted us to Guadalupe.

Most of this present generation
of sea elephants

have never seen a man before.

It is little wonder that our first
encounter with a three-ton bull

is mutually cautious.

On the main beach,
we are immediately struck

by the overwhelming sense
of crowding in the rookery.

Thousands of discrete creatures
packed into a narrow area only

a few hundred yards in length.

We are aware of past studies based
on a smaller sea elephant population.

Here there should be a
highly ordered society

in which individual bulls
clearly control territories

and groups of females.

Instead, in this tremendous
compression of sea elephant life,

there is no recognizable
social pattern.

We wonder if the dynamics
of rookery life

have been altered by this tremendous
population expl*si*n on the beach.

Out of some ancient genetic compulsion,

the three-ton beach masters hurl
threats across the Guadalupe rookery.

Often the bulls threatening presence
will discourage unsure opponents.

But when two bulls both refuse to
give ground, a fight is inevitable.

For as long as sea elephants have been
coming on land to mate and breed,

there have been fights
between the bulls.

Their combat is unpredictable,
earth-shaking.

With short, massive fighting tusks,

the bulls slash at the soft,
unprotected flanks of their opponent.

One lunge of their powerful
necks could instantly k*ll a man.

On land, combat becomes a
test of strength and stamina,

a 10,000-pound shoving match
in which the object seems to be

to make an opponent
lose his will to continue.

Here in the surf, while the nearby
females show a total lack of interest,

the bulls engage in even more
brutal fighting than on land.

But the blood that
spatters their chests

comes mainly from surface capillaries
that burst after repeated bruising.

Time and again, we observe that
combat ends as suddenly as it begins.

Obviously a loser does not
have to fight to the finish

to know that he has lost.

And the bulls because
of their massive size

never fight for more than 15 minutes.

In less populated rookery life,

victory meant dominance by
a beach master over a harem

for an entire breeding season.

Today, in the disorder
caused by overpopulation

weak inferior bulls mate with as many
females as the victorious masters do.

We suspect that the males now fight

merely in obedience to
an instinct for violence.

That is one of nature's strategies
for guaranteeing species survival.

Many losers skulk around
the edges of the rookery

for new opportunities to fight or mate.

Others head underwater.

Submerged, sea elephants
become nearly weightless.

Their huge size no
longer is a liability.

As beautifully adapted marine mammals,
they are completely at home in the sea.



Calypso divers unexpectedly
encounter an act of nature

that no man had ever witnessed before.

The underwater mating
of the sea elephants.

January 3rd.

At an outer cove where both
young and old bulls seem to gather,

the divers decide to
make their first attempt

at close-up underwater photography.

In the sun-splashed shadows,

the sea elephants cautiously keep
their distance from our divers.

Their eyesight is sharp
and wide-angled.

Near the mouth of an underwater cave,
a bull is inadvertently cornered.

The divers move in for a close-up.

In the sea, man feels at the
mercy of an alien environment

that our divers have learned
through years of experience

that unless they inadvertently
threaten life,

they are safe and secure,

even from the most powerful
animals of the underwater world.

January 26th.

Today, we established a permanent
campsite on Guadalupe.

Assignment?

To keep day and night
watch on the sea elephants.

At times, Calypso must leave for
supplies as well as other projects.

The camp's location,

several hundred yards
from the main beach,

is called Northeast Anchorage.

In the 1920s,

Mexican Marines
were stationed here

to protect the sea
elephants from poachers.

In charge of the land-based studies,

Philippe has preceded
his crew onto the beach.

The time of mating in
the rookery is at hand,

and the bulls are already beginning
to feel the mating urge.

At such times, their tempers
are characteristically short.

In January, signs of birth began
to be seen on the beaches.

Most births take place at night.

For the cows, it marks the end of


As they have done for centuries,

they haul out on Guadalupe
to bear their young.

In recent years, their
undisturbed annual birth cycle

has created a tremendous population
expl*si*n on the beach.

Each pup is born into a
melee of fighting and mating

bordering on anarchy.

Contact with his natural
mother is in immediate peril.

He is nearly blind at birth,
and too weak to move about.

Even his cries of hunger are drowned
out in the cacophony of the rookery.

Approximately one-third of all newborn
pups die before their first birthday,

some from natural causes,

but many others die because they
become separated from their mothers

within the first few hours after birth.

February 7th.

A baby sea elephant,
not more than a day or two old,

struggles to stay afloat.

Apparently swept into
the sea by a high wave,

he is not yet strong enough to swim.

Philippe and Canoe spot
him and move in to help.

Even as a newborn,
he weighs nearly 40 pounds.

On close inspection,
he seems unharmed.

Unable to tell which
is the baby's mother

among the thousands
of cows on the beach,

Philippe decides to release him into
the rookery and follow where he goes.

For the pup, this is the beginning
of a frightening odyssey.

He must find a cow willing to
nurse him or face certain death.

We know that cows,
when they are ready to nurse,

will suckle babies
other than their own,

but they must have the need,

or they refuse even the most
desperate pleadings of a stray.

For some babies, crowding
has had a beneficial effect,

for a virtual milk bank now
exists within the rookery.

When cows feel the pressure
to give up their milk,

they merely turn on their sides
and suckle any baby who is nearby.

With undeveloped sight at birth,

newborn pups use their
noses to locate the n*pples.

The milk the pups consume,
an estimated half a gallon a day,

is extremely rich in fat.

They must store it for sustenance until
they are old enough to feed at sea,

which still is more
than two months away.

February 12th.

Philippe and Maurice hope
to measure a newborn pup.

Away from the bedlam in
the middle of the rookery,

they find the cows much more
protective about their young.

One day, this pup will
weigh several tons.

His expected lifespan is 20 years.

A healthy baby, he now measures 34
inches around and 40 inches long.

His limbs barely protrude
from his sleek torso.

Only his hands and
feet are recognizable.

The webbed foreflipper
articulates like a human hand,

but is tipped with sturdy claws.

His rear flippers will come to
imitate a powerful tail finger.

In returning the pup,

Philippe and Canoe are intrigued by the
continued protective nature of the cows.

For within three weeks of birth,

cows lose complete
interest in their babies

and focus their attention on the bulls.

Responding to the seductive
calls of the female,

a bull heads into the
frenzy of mating.

At the height of mating,
there is total bedlam.

The old harem patterns have
completely broken down.

All mating relationships
are strictly momentary,

with neither sex showing
fidelity of any kind.

We observe that females often mate
with several bulls in the same day.

And the bulls, both the winners
and the losers in the fights,

simply move in whenever
there is an opportunity.

During the quieter moments of mating,

these huge bulls embrace the females
with their own kind of tenderness.

Such peaceful moments are brief.

The females are fertile
only for a few weeks.

And the drive to mate often creates
a nightmare world for the young.

Every year, hundreds of
babies are doomed to death

by suffocation or crushing.

Miraculously, because of the
resiliency of their bodies,

pups do escape.

February 16th, the men spot
a cow and baby in the surf.

Whether this pup is her own
baby or merely adopted,

she appears to have assumed
responsibility for him.

Several weeks old,
he is about to take his first swim.

And as nature provides, there is
no way the mother can teach him.

For any baby who has survived the
first several weeks of rookery life,

this is the second
most critical moment.

He is born with the ability to swim,

yet he must gain the strength
and confidence to do it alone.

Like his earliest ancestors,
he has crossed into the sea.

There he will spend
more than half his life,

and he has only three months
to master his adopted element.

I cannot help but believe that a
bond between this cow and pup

does exist at this one crucial moment.

Since man first set eyes
on the sea elephant,

he has been mystified by the
phenomenon of the sand flipping.

Over the years, it has been
described in many ways,

as protection from the heat,
a strategy against insects,

even as a method for digging a bed.

For all the speculation,

sand flipping remains a mystery
that even the babies are born with.

In spite of the sand storm,

Canoe wants to record
the heartbeat of a cow.

Sea elephants were
named for their noses,

yet it took until the 20th century to
discover what purpose they served.

Some thought they were snorkels,
others that they were used for feeding.

Crews on passing ships were convinced
they served as natural foghorns

by which the bulls called
females onto the island.

Today observers agree they
have only one major function,

as resonators when bulls sound
their threats before combat.

Canoe has recorded the voice
threat of a large successful bull.

He now tests whether played
through a loudspeaker,

the sound will evoke a belligerent
response from other bulls.

Canoe's persistent propaganda

finally drives even one of the
biggest males into the sea.

The recorded bull had more fighting
guts than this bull on the beach.

For the sea elephant, every minute on
land is a tremendous physical effort.

Because of his size,

he is at the outer limits of his
ability to survive out of water.

He tires quickly.
His body overheats.

And, except when impelled by his
own instincts to fight or mate,

he spends most of his time on land in
a somnolent, near-traumatized state.

Cousteau and Walker believed
that in the 19th century,

this extreme limitation on land
might have led to their demise.

For against men,
they stood no chance at all.

Fifty years of slaughter
by sealers and whalers,

looking to top their oil barrels,

had reduced the vast herds
of northern sea elephants

to a remnant colony of
less than a hundred animals,

isolated on remote Guadalupe Island.

Even after they were
given partial protection,

they were plagued by
scientists and museum staffs,

who came to take specimens
for their zoos and laboratories.

Scientists believe that the sea elephant
had technically reached extinction,

that the species could not
reproduce a viable population.

Time would prove them wrong.

What the early census takers of
the sea elephants could not know

was how many of the
animals were at sea.

Apparently, there were enough
to help the recovery begin.

They were capable of diving a thousand
feet and surfacing more than a mile away.

Thus, at sea, they were practically
invulnerable to attack by man.

Uniquely streamlined
for life in the ocean,

they can suspend breathing for eight to
ten minutes without coming up for air.

Unlike whales, who have
single horizontal tails,

sea elephants have double hind
flippers, vertically positioned.

Each pushes the water
in alternating strokes,

with a motion like
a double-tailed fish.

Their foreflippers work like ailerons,

to steer and maneuver their
huge frames with little effort.

February 28th.

Bernard and Serge instinctively
decide to try a new approach

to the animals they have lived
with for more than two months.

Instead of standing or kneeling
as they have done before,

they now approach the sea
elephants on their own terms.

Bernard and Serge's
intuition pays off.

For the sea elephant, anything
vertical represents an enemy.

Anything horizontal appears
friendly and female.

Even with a powerful bull, Bernard
encounters total indifference.

After all, to make friends
with the elephant of the sea,

all you have to do is to crawl on
the beach as he has always done.

April 4th, late season on Guadalupe.

The population has
already thinned out.

Many of those remaining on the
beach are in the process of molting.

In their annual molt,
sea elephants shed in patches,

beginning with the back and
working towards the face.

Unlike others in the seal family,
they shed not only their hair,

but an entire layer of skin.

Until the procedure is complete,

a sea elephant will not leave the island
on his yearly venture in the sea.

At the back of the beach,

the 8 to 12-week-old
rely on their stored fat

to sustain them until they
are ready to go to sea.

The rich, healthy fat of the
fast-growing youngsters

raises a major question about the
feeding habits of the sea elephants.

According to prevailing theories,

the cows that suckle these babies

do not feed at all during
the many weeks of nursing.

And for a pup to grow
to nearly 300 pounds,

a cow would have to give
a ton and a half of milk,

roughly the equivalent
of her total body weight.

Yet, the cows lose very little weight.

It seems impossible they do not feed
during these five months on Guadalupe.

Cousteau and Dr. Walker suspect that

while sea elephants are
basically deep divers,

they must also have close-in
feeding places near the island.

We have only three clues to whether
the sea elephants fast or feed

during the period when
they are at Guadalupe.

Scientists who have examined their
stomachs have found them empty.

The Mexican fishermen claim that the
Guadalupe sea elephant grazes on seaweed.

We have observed that they
eliminate a yellow substance,

which is probably the
result of some eating.

Yet, our divers find no
evidence of such feeding.

We decide to follow a
sea elephant from shore

in the hope that he will lead
us to his feeding grounds.

We hope that he will become
accustomed to our buoy

and that he might settle
down and act naturally.

The sea elephant's notion
about where to go

does not necessarily
coincide with ours.

Rather than lead us anywhere,
he has outmaneuvered us.

Most of the remaining sea
elephants in the rookery

have moved down to the water.

The time of their departure
from Guadalupe is near.

Except for the shoreline,
the beaches are almost deserted.

Movement off the beach has uncovered

the incredible extent of death
over the past three months,

especially of the young.

Hundreds of pups die on
the beach from starvation,

crushing, suffocation or disease.

But it is in the vastness of the sea

that the life of adults
usually come to an end.

April 12th.

Philippe Cousteau and a camera
crew set out from Calypso

to extend the range of their
dives into deeper water.

On their way, they are sidetracked
by the sight of floating baby

carcasses on the surface.

Often, inexperienced babies
will tire and drown at sea,

or occasionally be attacked by
their natural enemy, the shark.

As the divers start down,

a solitary predator appears
through the gloom of the deep.

Descending steadily down the underwater
terraces of the Guadalupe volcano,

the divers sense that something is
strange and somehow different here.

Suddenly, at 140 feet, Philippe
discovers a shadowy realm of death.

Near the surface, a diver ignites a
torch and begins a symbolic descent.


stark underwater terrace,

lies a world unlike anything
we have ever seen before.

The underwater graveyard
of the sea elephants.

April 20th.

Calypso's lookout spot several bulls
surfacing for air in blue water.

Beyond the perimeter of
the island for the first time,

they're at the start of their
great yearly adventure at sea.

The old experienced bulls

are the first to depart for the
independence of the open sea.

These avant-gardes will soon be followed
by the entire population of the island.

On land, they were
rolling mountains of flesh.

They are lively, fluid
shapes under the sea.

Beyond 200 feet,
we can go no farther.

How the sea elephants live, feed,

and survive in their deep
world remains a mystery.

Though the study is over,

Cousteau decides on one
last assignment for his crew,

to take a final portrait
of the sea elephant,

a free and indomitable
creature of the sea.

Elephant of the sea,
when we first met you,

we had to overcome our apprehension.

Then we smiled at you
as a whimsy of nature.

At times, the tragedy
of your life moved us.

But today, we admire your
subtle mastery of water,

the element in which
we are only newcomers.

We salute you, our
ancient cousin of the sea,

as you once again set out
on your mysterious odyssey.

Today, our sea elephants
have multiplied so rapidly

that the tiny beaches of
protected Guadalupe Island

can no longer contain them.

Gradually, the elephants of the
sea are establishing new colonies

on the beaches of their ancestors,

now ranging as far north as Alaska.

But everywhere,
they encounter the 20th century.

Oil pollution already is plaguing them
on the offshore islands of California.

Curiosity seekers are disturbing
the fragile environmental balance

on which their new communities depend.

The cyranos of the sea are once
again at the mercy of man.