Robin Barefield's Blog, page 22

Steller Sea Lions, Part 3

This week I will discuss recent and current research on Steller sea lions as well as theories to explain why their numbers have decreased so rapidly over the last several years.

Steller sea lion females live up to thirty years, while males have a maximum life span of twenty years.  Males have a much higher mortality rate than females, probably at least in part due to the stresses incurred by securing and maintaining territories.  By the time they are ten years old, there is a three to one ratio of females to males.

Stellers die from a number of causes; many are well-understood, but the underlying reasons for their dramatic population decline are still a mystery.  A high number of aborted Steller sea lion fetuses are found in the wild, and it is estimated that less than one-third of all pups reach sexual maturity.  Pups may be washed off the rookery by storm waves or killed by adults tossing, biting, or crushing them.  A pup may also be abandoned by his mother or die from disease or starvation.  Threats to Steller sea lions of all ages include disease, loss of habitat, contaminants and pollutants, boat strikes, shooting by humans, entanglement in fishing nets and ocean debris, and indirect impacts, such as competition with fisheries for important food sources, including walleye Pollock.

It is known that sea lions are preyed upon by killer whales and sharks, but a recent study by a biologist at Oregon State University and a biologist with the Alaska Sea Life Center pinpointed a surprising possible predator of sea lions.  Pacific sleeper sharks are a large, slow-moving species of shark that until recently were believed to be scavengers or to prey on fish.  Pacific sleepers can grow to twenty feet (6.1 m) long, and there is now evidence that they may prey upon sea lions, although the incidence of this predation is unknown.  Biologists inserted “life-history transmitters” into the abdomens of thirty-six juvenile Steller sea lions.  These transmitters record temperature, light, and other properties during the sea lions’ lives.  When a sea lion dies, the tags either float to the surface or fall out on shore and transmit the data by satellite to researchers.  Seventeen of the original thirty-six tagged sea lions have died.  Fifteen of the transmitters indicated the sea lions had been killed by predation.  Usually when a sea lion is killed, the tag is ripped out of the body and floats to the surface, recording a rapid temperature change and exposure to light.  Three of the predation deaths were different, though.  They recorded an abrupt drop in temperature, but they did not float to the surface and sense light, indicating that they were still surrounded by tissue.  The obvious explanation is that they were eaten by a cold-blooded animal such as a shark.  The only other possible shark candidates in the area are great white sharks and salmon sharks, both of which have counter-current heat exchangers in their bodies, giving them higher body temperatures than those recorded.  Biologists believe the only possible predator in the area that is large enough to eat a sea lion and has a body temperature as low as those recorded is a Pacific sleeper shark.

While still much more research is needed to definitively identify Pacific sleeper sharks as predators of sea lions and to understand how many sea lions sleeper sharks actually kill and eat, the possible ramifications are troubling.  Ground fish harvests in some area of the Gulf of Alaska have been limited in recent years to reduce competition for fish that are preferred by Steller sea lions.  It is possible, though, that limiting fishing has led to more fish, providing a food base for a larger population of Pacific sleeper sharks, and adult sleeper sharks may in turn prey on sea lions.  If this is true, then management directives may have harmed rather than helped the Steller sea lion population in the Gulf of Alaska.

The relationship between Pacific sleeper sharks, sea lions, and ground fish is still not well understood, and it is a good example of the complexities of the North Pacific food web.  Understanding why Steller sea lion populations, as well as populations of other pinnipeds, are decreasing in certain areas is not an easy undertaking.  Several factors have been suggested to explain the decline of the western Steller sea lion population in the last three to four decades.  Possible reasons are described as “top down” processes and “bottom up” processes.  Top down processes include predation by killer whales or sharks; killing by humans, either directly such as by shooting, or indirectly by entanglement in fishing gear or ocean debris; and harassment of sea lions, especially at rookeries.  Bottom-up processes include reduced prey quality and abundance, either due to competition with commercial fisheries or for some other reason; long-term shifts in their environment, such as changes in ocean temperature or an increase in contamination; and disease.  At the present time, no one or combination of these factors sufficiently explains the decline of the western population of Steller sea lions.

There are currently a number of scientific studies examining the nutritional and biological needs of Stellers.  An interesting result from a study by Carla Gerlinsky at the University of Washington showed that under-nourished sea lions are able to dive for a slightly longer period of time than unstressed sea lions when foraging for food.  However, while the nutritionally-stressed sea lions are able to dive and therefore forage longer, they need more time on the surface to recover between dives, leading to longer foraging trips requiring more energy.  These longer foraging trips also increase the risk of predation at sea and reduce the amount of time a female can spend feeding and taking care of her pup.

Biologists and fisheries managers are also working on practical solutions to decrease human/sea lion conflicts, such as non-lethal ways to deter sea lions from raiding commercial fishing nets, signage near harbors and fish-cleaning stations to remind people that feeding sea lions is a federal offense, and methods of keeping fish-cleaning stations tidy, so sea lions can’t help themselves to fish scraps.  In Kodiak, sea lions were hauling out on an old breakwater float in the boat harbor, causing continual conflicts with humans at the harbor.  When the old float was replaced with a new one, the old float was moved away from the dock, and the sea lions that had already staked claim to the float, moved with it, leaving the new float sea-lion free for human use.

Don’t forget to sign up for my Mystery Newsletter on my home page.  I will send you back issues  as soon as you join.

 

 

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Steller Sea Lion, Part 2

This week I’ll tell you a little about Steller sea lion reproductive behavior and biology.

Steller sea lions use both haul-outs and rookeries.  Rookeries are breeding colonies where sea lions mate, and females give birth; and haul-outs are areas where sea lions rest.   Rookeries are used during the mating and pupping season by adults and pups.  Haul-outs are sites used by some non-breeding adults and sub-adults throughout the year and by adults during times other than the breeding season.

Female Steller sea lions reach sexual maturity between the ages of three and six, and most breed every year.  Males are sexually mature between the ages of three and seven, but they are not physically mature and large and strong enough to hold territories until they are nine to ten years old.  Male Stellers are very territorial, and holding and defending a territory is physically exhausting.  Not only must they sometimes engage in fierce, often bloody, fighting with other bulls, but a male often goes without eating for one to two months while he stays on the rookery to defend his territory.  Because of these exhaustive physical demands, males hold territories for an average of only two years, which means they only have a few mating seasons.  It is probable that most males never breed, but the largest, strongest, most successful bulls are those that hold territories, and they mate with many females, passing on their genes to the next generation.

Bulls come ashore at rookeries in mid-May, and they use vocal and visual displays to establish territories, sometimes fighting with other males.  Bulls defending a territory will remain on the rookery until mid-July without eating or drinking.  Females arrive soon after the males and give birth to a single pup within three days of their arrival.  Females remain with their pups for five to thirteen days before leaving the rookery every one to three days to feed, and feeding trips generally last less than 24 hours.  Pups usually nurse for one year, but unlike other pinnipeds for which weaning is predictable, Steller pups may continue to nurse for up to three years.  Mothers use smell and vocalizations to create a bond with a newborn pup.

Approximately two weeks after giving birth, a female Steller will mate again.  Like many other animals, Steller sea lions exhibit delayed implantation.  While a female breeds in June, the fertilized egg does not implant on the uterine wall until October, making the gestation period, from implantation until birth, approximately seven to eight months.    Pups are able to swim and crawl soon after they are born.  They are approximately 3.3 ft. (1 m) in length and weigh between 35 and 50 lbs. (16-22.5 kg). 

 Next week’s post will cover some surprising new research about Steller sea lions and a possible predator that may be at least partially responsible for the decrease in Steller populations in the North Pacific.

Once again, if you like mysteries and true crime, sign up for my Mystery Newsletter on my home page.

 

 

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Hiking in New Zealand

Mt. Cook

Mike and I spent the last month traveling and hiking  in New Zealand, and it was quite an adventure. New Zealand is a gorgeous, vibrant country where even the land seems to be alive. With the Pacific tectonic plate colliding with the Australian plate, earthquakes are common in many areas of the country. We felt two good jolts while we were staying in Christchurch on the South Island. Five years ago, Christchurch suffered extensive damage from a 6.3 earthquake, and residents are still struggling to rebuild their downtown area.

Geyser

In addition to earthquakes, New Zealand has active volcanoes, geysers, and hot springs. On the South Island, we saw glaciers and vivid blue and green glacial lakes with colors so pure; it was difficult to believe they were natural. We crossed many rivers in our travels, stared straight up at towering cliffs, and in some places, we were surrounded by waterfalls too numerous to count. In pouring rain, our bus pulled into a small area that was circled by steep mountains, and as water rushed down the cliffs and swirled around us, our guide told us that this area was called “the toilet bowl,” an accurate description, at least during a rain squall. Not all the terrain in New Zealand is dramatic. Much of both islands consists of beautiful, rolling hills and pastures full of sheep, cattle, and even deer, which are farmed for their meat.

Two weeks of our trip was a hiking tour with Active Adventures New Zealand, with the emphasis on “active!” Our first big hike began by climbing 1800 large steps carved into the side of a mountain. By the time I got down, my legs were shaking, and I began to wonder if I’d make it through the next two weeks.

Our guides on the trip were Gary and Holly. Since guiding is also my job, I am always intrigued to watch other guides at work, and I was very impressed with Gary and Holly. Not only did they guide us on our many, long hikes, but they cooked most of our meals, and Gary drove our small bus with a trailer in tow over narrow, winding roads and one-way bridges. Sometimes, when it was raining, the windows became so fogged that I don’t know how he could see where he was going. While Gary drove, both he and Holly regaled us with Maori legends about how various lakes, rivers, and glaciers were formed. Most of these tales involved, at least, one or two beautiful princesses. We learned such things as how the Fox Glacier was formed, why there are sand flies in Milford Sound, how the kiwi birds lost their wings, how Maui slowed the sun, and much, much more (click on any of the above to learn the details of each legend). On top of all of this, Gary and Holly went out of their way to make sure each of their 14 charges had everything he or she needed or wanted.

We traveled with 12 other adventurers on our trip. Phil and Sue were from Canada, and the rest of us were from the U.S. One thing we soon learned about our guide, Gary, was that he is a master of the Kiwi understatement, and it didn’t take us long to translate his words:

A wee hike meant, at least, 4 to 6 hours.

A wee bit of climbing meant, at least, a 45⁰ angle

A wee bit of undulating terrain meant a steep climb followed by a steep descent followed by another steep climb and another steep descent and on and on.

A wee bit technical – Uh oh, that meant serious rock climbing would be involved.

A wee hill meant a snow-capped mountain.

Our two-week adventure culminated in a three-day option of either a multi-day hiking trip, kayaking for three days, or biking for three days. Six of us chose the hike while the rest of the group opted to go kayaking. Of the six hikers, Debbie chose to do one day of hiking, while the rest of us (obviously not the brightest of the bunch) went hiking for the full three days on the Angelus Circuit. Since we could not stop to resupply, we had to carry everything we needed for three days on our backs in large packs, including our personal gear, a sleeping bag, hiking poles, water, a bowl, cup, spoon, and a portion of the food.

Debbie, Mike me, Tara, Mike and, Denny.

The first day we hiked 3 ½ hours along beautiful Lake Rotoiti. We stayed at Lakehead Hut that night. The huts are interesting places with bunks for 28 people, and they are available to anyone who makes a reservation. You share kitchen facilities with the other campers, and yes, you sleep next to strangers. The outhouses at Lakehead Hut were a bit dicey since they were full of with sand flies and bees. This on top of the issues that normally accompany outhouses made a trip to the bathroom a bit stressful and to be avoided if at all possible. The hike to Lakehead Hut was fairly easy, but we knew the following day would be anything but easy, and I was simply hoping I could make it up the mountain! For our dinner the first night, Holly made us a wonderful pasta and vegetable meal, accompanied by wine that our fellow hiker, Mike Hofmann thoughtfully packed with him. After dinner, we enjoyed a Tim Tam Slam, an interactive dessert demonstrated by Holly. It involved sucking hot cocoa through a Tim Tam (a chocolate-frosted, chocolate cookie) and then sucking the cookie into your mouth before it disintegrated. The process left us all sticky and giggling while the other hikers in the hut watched us warily.

Tara, Mike, Mike, Denny, Gary and Holly

The weather was perfect on day two, but the hike was a brutal ascent to 4800 ft. We began the day by hiking across two “wee” rivers up a steep “wee” bit of elevated path through the trees, and then we knew we were really in trouble when Gary told us, “I won’t lie to you. The rest of the trek is steep and difficult.” There was no “wee” in his description, and I half expected him to pull climbing ropes and pitons from his pack. It was a tough climb. I think I stopped at every single trail marker and sucked in air. As I craned my neck back and looked upward there, seemed no end to the trail, and the few times I thought I could see the last marker; the trail turned, and the markers continued upward. Gary told us it would take 8 to 9 hours to get to the top, and I was proud that I made it up there in just over 7 hours. Mike and Denny, two of the guys in our group, made it in 6 hours. We all agreed that the hike had been tough, but the view from the top was worth our effort. As we crested over the top near Angelus Hut, we were treated to the breathtaking (what little breath I had left) view of sapphire-blue Lake Angelus, its windswept waves sparkling in the sun. That is a sight I will remember for the rest of my life!

Angelus Hut next to the lake was also a treat. It was very clean with large picture windows looking out on the lake. Its volunteer caretaker, Mary, saw to it that the windows were spotless so that the hikers could enjoy the view. The outhouses were also spotless and mostly bug-free. The only downside to Angelus Hut was that hikers appeared from every direction, and the hut was full – all 28 beds. The hut was noisy most of the night with doors banging and people shuffling in and out.   That evening for dinner, Holly and Gary served chicken curry with a dessert of deconstructed cheesecake. It was delicious, and the mood was light. After all, Mike, Denny, Tara, Mike and I had completed the toughest day of the hike – at least, we thought it was the toughest day.

After a fitful night’s sleep, we awoke at 6:00, ready to tackle the last section of our hike. This morning we would hike another 45 minutes up and along the ridgeline for 4 hours before dropping down below the tree line for the final hour of hiking down to the car park. Gary did mention something about large rocks and small loose rocks, but I admit I wasn’t listening very closely. I just wanted to get back to our bus, and I thought it sounded like an easy day once we got to the ridgeline. I couldn’t have been more wrong! The hike to the ridgeline was no problem, but once we got up there, we were buffeted by winds that were gusting to 50 mph. The ridge was fairly narrow, and we had big packs on our back. When the wind gusted, I staggered, hunkering down to hold my position. I admit I was terrified I would be blown off the mountain, and those large rocks Gary had briefly mentioned turned out to be more of a problem than I had anticipated. We had to hop from one to the next in the driving wind. Thankfully, Gary stayed with me all the way, because it was not easy. He was also there to help me through the “loose rock” section, and then when a huge gust knocked me over and nearly sent me tumbling down the mountain, Mike held my hand for the rest of the hike along the ridge. Not only was it windy, but clouds were settling on the mountain, and was starting to rain. As our visibility decreased and the wind increased, I could sense the strain in Gary’s demeanor. He told us to keep moving as fast as we could, and Mike said, “You want us off this ridgeline, and I couldn’t agree more.”

Tara and I needed no encouragement. We wanted off the mountain worse than anyone. Finally, we began to descend, and the minute we dropped below the tree line, the world changed. We were out of the clouds, the rain stopped, the wind calmed, and below us, we could see Lake Rotoiti, gleaming like a jewel. The lake was home that day to speed boat races, and we could hear the roaring engines from high on the mountain. As the participants and spectators enjoyed a beautiful, Saturday afternoon in the sun, we marveled that they had no idea what the weather conditions were like on the mountain that towered above them. We stepped out of a world filled with wind, rain, fog, and peril and into a beautiful weekend afternoon at the beach.

Once we reached the carpark, Holly greeted each of us with a beer, and I told her I loved her. Then, we were off to meet the rest of our group for a wine tasting at a nearby winery, and this action perfectly captured the essence of our tour. We had three days of rugged hiking and staying in bare-bones huts, followed by a civilized wine tasting. I did, note, though, that we hikers looked a bit less civilized at the winery than did our fellow kayakers.

That night at our farewell dinner, Denny, one of my fellow travelers, made an eloquent toast to our guides. He said, “We will soon fade from your memories, but you will never fade from ours.” So true!

If New Zealand isn’t on your travel wish-list, it should be. It is a clean, beautiful country with some of the friendliest people I’ve ever encountered. I can’t say enough good things about it!

We are now on our way back to Alaska, and I can’t wait to get home. If you haven’t already done so, sign up for my Mystery Newsletter. Due to my vacation, there will be no March Newsletter, but I am already working on my April Newsletter.

If any of my fellow hikers is reading this, thanks again for being a part of my very memorable New Zealand adventure!

 

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Steller Sea Lion

Steller sea lions are impressive animals, and you wouldn’t want to run into one in a dark alley, or even on a fishing dock.  A large bull can way over a ton, and they have a have nasty attitudes to go along with all that blubber.  For all you Star Wars fans, I’ve always imagined that Jabba the Hutt was created with a Steller sea lion in mind.  For this post and the next two, I will write about Steller Sea lions, their biology, distribution, social structure, and some amazing new research pinpointing a surprising possible predator of Stellers.

The Steller or Northern sea lion (Eumetopias jubatus) is a member of the order Pinnipedia, which includes harbor seals and walruses, and it is the largest species in the family Otariidae, the “eared seals”.  This family also includes the California sea lion and the Northern fur seal. Otariids, unlike phocids (the “true seals”), have external ear flaps, an elongate neck, long fore flippers used for propulsion, and hind flippers that can rotate, allowing sea lions to use all four limbs for movement on land.  They are called sea “lions”, because adult males have thick necks with long fur on the neck, resembling a lion’s mane.  Steller sea lions were named after German physician Georg Steller, who was the naturalist on the 1741 Russian expedition led by Vitus Bering.

Steller sea lions are found from southern California, along the coastline of the Pacific rim to northern Japan, but most of the breeding rookeries are located from the Gulf of Alaska to the Aleutian Islands.

Steller sea lions exhibit marked sexual dimorphism.  Males, on the average, are 1.3 times longer than females, but they weigh 2.5 times more than females.  Adult male Stellers average 1500 lbs. (750 kg) and are 9 ft. (2.7 m) in length.  A maximum-sized male can weigh as much as 2500 lbs. (1120 kg) and be 10 -11 ft. (3-3.4 m) in length.  Females average 600 lbs. (272.7 kg) and are 7 ft (2.1 m) in length, but may weigh as much as 770 lbs. (350 kg).

A Steller sea lion has a hefty body and a blunt snout.   A male has a distinctive forehead and a mane of long hair on the back of his neck, shoulders, and chest.  This mane not only protects him from cold air and water temperatures and from jagged rocks on his haul-outs and rookeries, but it also protects him when fighting with other males.  Pups are dark brown at birth, and since the tips of their hair are colorless, they appear frosty.  Their hair lightens after their first molt.  Adults are blonde to reddish- brown with dark- chocolate-brown on their undersides and flippers.  Females are usually lighter in color than males.  A Steller’s fur is thick and coarse, and they shed or “molt” their fur every year.  The molt takes approximately four weeks and occurs in the late summer or early fall.

A sea lion has a streamlined body shaped like a torpedo, which reduces drag when moving through the water.  This streamlining is due to a thick layer of blubber under the skin.  Stellers have long, wing-like fore flippers that they stroke up and down to thrust themselves through the water in a movement that resembles flying.  They use their hind flippers for steering.  Unlike harbor seals, sea lions are able to fold their hind flippers under their bodies to walk on land.  They are quite agile on land, and an adult male Steller can easily out-run a human.

Stellers, like all eared seals, have small, external ear horns. Biologists believe that hearing is one of the most important senses for a sea lion, and they probably have acute hearing under water and fairly good hearing in air.

Steller sea lions are very vocal.  At a haul-out, you may hear growls, roars, and grumbles from the older sea lions, along with lamb-like vocalizations from young pups.  Unlike California sea lions, Stellers do not bark.

I’ll have more about Stellers next week. Meanwhile, if you haven’t already done so, visit my home page and sign up for my Mystery Newsletter.

 

 

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Guest Post by Marcia Messier

While Robin and Mike are on vacation trekking through New Zealand, I agreed to do a guest post for her, and I decided to write about two of the friends I made while working as a cook at Munsey’s Bear Camp.

The Gentleman

By Marcia Messier

I fell in love with Fletcher the moment he sauntered out of the house to greet me. Anyone who has known a Maine Coon Cat will agree they are magnificent animals. All that fur! It springs out of their ears and sticks up through their toes; it flows over their shoulders and back, culminating in a luxurious feather duster tail.

Fletcher was a mature gentleman. He never raised his voice or lost his temper but you were never in doubt he was the master of his house. To qualify as camp cook in his house I learned there was an initiation ritual, a series of tricky situations (don’t ask, don’t tell) that must be passed through. Eventually, I navigated this unknown territory without screaming out loud or making too much fuss and was accepted into my position.

My first summer in camp was a little difficult at times. I had so much to learn! By the end of the busy day I collapsed on my bed exhausted and maybe a little homesick. Fletcher could see I needed help so every evening he came upstairs to talk. Sometimes he would discuss the art of catching birds (a specific bird he alone may have put on the endangered list), or perhaps how to disembowel a vole, making absolute certain to leave the tiny green parts on the doorstep as a special offering to the” house spirits”.   Fletcher carefully explained how I should ignore the silly otters that lived under the dock in summer, and especially to be very careful of the smelly slippery mess they made on it (I slipped anyway). Most importantly, he lectured me on how far I could expect to walk on the beach without meeting a bear casually strolling past camp. After our comforting chat he would sing a purr-fect little song and I’d peacefully doze off.

Summer passed quickly. Soon Fletcher and I were sharing one last hug and one last bird story by the kitchen window. It was time to go.

The Game.   

By Marcia Messier

Gizzy was a beauty, a beauty with an attitude. Her long thick golden blond, carefully coiffed fur glistened and her large golden eyes blinked as she regarded everyone with an expression of absolute boredom.

Guests were sometimes spellbound by her beauty. Bear, fox and bald eagles were forgotten as they rolled around the lawn with cameras focused, trying to capture the perfect angle of the Kodiak sun shining through Gizzy’s luxurious golden fur, creating an aura of light about her body.

As a matter of fact, her fur was the exact color of the seaweed that washed upon our shore in the summer.

One day, Gizzy bored as she was, decided to have a game of “Hide & Seek” with the new cook. It was mid-afternoon before I realized she hadn’t been on her perch all day. Nervously, I began to search, upstairs, downstairs, and in the cabins… no sign of her. Finally, looking over the edge of the bluff down onto the beach I saw the golden seaweed surging back and forth with the high tide. Had she fallen into the water? Did I see something that resembled her body in that thick seaweed?   No, no, impossible! Still, how was I going to explain to Robin and Mike I had lost the cat? Nonetheless, presently I had to move on; it was time to suspend the search and prepare dinner. Later on, nearly in tears thinking Gizzy was gone, while tidying-up before guests arrived, far back in a corner near the wood stove and curled up behind a pair of boots was Gizzy! Flipping her tail and grinning slyly up at me, I had to concede, Gizzy had indeed won her game!

 

 

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Sea Otters Part 3

A sea otter has a loose pouch of skin under each foreleg where it can store food as it’s collected.  When the otter returns to the surface, it can rest on its back and leisurely retrieve one piece of food after another from its pouch. In addition to food, the sea otter also stores a rock in one of its pouches.  The otter may use the rock under water to pry loose mussels or other attached bivalves or to dislodge sea urchins wedged in crevices.  When floating on the surface, the otter places the rock on its chest and pounds crabs, snails, clams, and other prey against the rock to break through the tough shells.  Sea otters are one of the few animals other than humans known to use tools.

Mating can occur at any time of the year for sea otters, and while the young may be born in any season, most pups in Alaska are born in the spring.  As with bears, when a sea otter becomes pregnant, the implantation and development of the embryo often stops, and the embryo may not implant for several months.  Scientists believe the purpose of delayed implantation in sea otters is to allow for the birth of pups when environmental conditions and food supplies are most favorable. Sea otters are pregnant for four months, but because the length of the delayed implantation varies so greatly, the gestation period may last from four to twelve months.

Sea otter mothers are normally very attentive, affectionate, and protective of their pups.  A pup spends most of its time riding on its mother’s belly, and even pups six-months of age or older and nearly as large as their mother will climb on her stomach as she appears to struggle to keep her head above water.

In addition to cradling her pup on her chest to keep him warm, a mother meticulously grooms her pup’s fur until the pup is three to four months old and able to groom himself.  At this age, the pup is also able to swim on his back and dive with ease.   The mother teaches the pup how to catch and eat prey, and by the time the pup is six months old, he can capture and break open his own prey.  Sea otter pups remain with their mothers anywhere from three to twelve months.

Sea otters often float together in large groups called rafts.  Except for territorial males who rest with female groups, most rafts are comprised of individuals of the same sex, and mothers with pups often rest together in nursery groups. Rafts usually consist of between ten and more than one-hundred otters, but in Alaska, rafts with 2000 individuals have been reported.

Sea otters are considered a “Keystone” species, meaning that they effect the ecosystem to a much greater degree than their numbers would suggest. Sea otters protect kelp forests by eating herbivores such as sea urchins that graze on the kelp.  In turn, the kelp forests provide food and cover for many other species of animals, and kelp forests play an important role in capturing carbon and reducing atmospheric carbon dioxide levels.

 

 

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Murder Over Kodiak

My second novel is based on Kodiak Island, Alaska, where I live. Most of the story takes place in the town of Kodiak, where Jane works as a biologist at a marine science center. Later in the novel, Jane travels to the west side of Kodiak Island to Uyak Bay to collect clams to test for the presence of a natural toxin. Her campsite on this field trip is approximately fifteen miles from my actual home in the Kodiak wilderness, so describing the ambient temperature and other weather conditions Jane might encounter on a July day, as well as what she would likely see and smell, is easy for me, because I’ve spent many July days in this pristine wilderness. At one point, Jane has an encounter with a bear, and since there more than 3500 Kodiak bears on the Kodiak Island Archipelago, seeing a bear in the woods or on the beach is a common experience.

When thinking up an idea for a new mystery, I like to think, "what if . . . ." In the case of this novel, I thought, what if a floatplane crashed not because of bad weather, pilot error, or a mechanical malfunction, but what if the cause was something much more sinister such as a bomb? How would the residents of Kodiak react when problems from the outside world invaded our normally peaceful island?

Kodiak Island is beautiful with lush vegetation, steep mountains that rise nearly straight up from sea level, fjord-like bays, and at times, some of the worst weather on the planet. We see a few storms each year where storm-force winds spawn waves towering over 30 ft. Throw 3500 bears into the mix, and you have an awe-inspiring setting that can evoke many “what if” questions in an author’s mind.

The rugged men and women who call Kodiak home include commercial fishermen, bush plane pilots, guides, fish and wildlife researchers, and Coast Guard pilots and rescue swimmers, all who do their jobs by being willing to brave the challenging environment in which they live and work. I don’t have to use much imagination to create colorful, inspiring characters for my books. In fact, I know some actual people who are so colorful that no one would find them believable as characters in a novel.

I am lucky to have this rich, unique environment to inspire me when I write. I think and hope my novels will appeal to readers who love mysteries, but also to people who enjoy reading about Alaska and the wilderness.

Writing as a Coping Strategy

I love to read, and while I read a broad range of fiction and non fiction, mysteries and adventure novels are what I enjoy most. To me, the perfect novel involves an intricate puzzle that can only be solved with a combination of intelligence, courage, and desperation.

Big Game was my first serious attempt at writing the type of book I would want to read. Experts advise to write about what you know, so that’s what I did; although, I was amazed by how much I did not know when it came to poisons, airplanes, and even air bag compartments in cars. I enjoy research and learning new things, so this aspect of writing is an added bonus for me.

Big Game is a story that evolved one summer when my father called me at my home on Kodiak Island in Alaska and told me that my mother’s last attempt at chemotherapy had failed, and she was not expected to live much longer. I flew back to Kansas as soon as I could, and as I sat in my mother’s hospital room watching her lose her slow, painful fight against ovarian cancer, I realized I had to do something to help myself cope. I was determined to remain strong for my parents. I refused to cry or surrender to my grief, but I knew I had to deal with my depression. I started writing so I could express the many things I would miss about my mother, but on a hot July afternoon as I listened to my mother’s rhythmic breathing and the pump that delivered her morphine, my writing took a sharp turn, my love of mysteries emerged, and suddenly in my mind, a car veered off the road in front of me and rolled into a wheat field. The driver of the car mumbled an incoherent string of words, and my prose took on a life of its own. Not only did my narrative become my escape from my mother’s hospital room, but it became a journey for me to the most memorable places in my life to that point.

I have been lucky to live an adventurous life in unique places that I wanted to remember, and writing this novel helped me cement those memories. I grew up in a small town in Kansas and graduated from the University of Arizona with a M.S. degree in fish and wildlife biology. I spent time in a hunting camp at Becharof Lake on the Alaska Peninsula, one of the wildest, most beautiful spots on our planet. I have lived in the midst of the Kodiak Wildlife Refuge for nearly thirty years. There are no roads where I live. Access is by float plane or boat, and bears, deer, and eagles are my nearest neighbors.

My life has been amazing, and in Big Game, I tried to describe some of the wild, beautiful places I have seen as well as places that have had an impact on my life. More importantly for me, though, this novel reminds me of the battle my mother fought against ovarian cancer. I never thought of her as being tough, but when she faced the fight of her life, she became a warrior, determined to win or at least determined to remain positive for the sake of her family. Anna Quindlen in her novel One True Thing was spot on with her description of the ravages of ovarian cancer and the effect the disease has on the patient and the patient’s loved ones. It is a devastating disease, and my mother fought it with dignity and courage. I hope if nothing else, my story is a tribute to her.

I am currently writing another novel featuring Jane, the protagonist in Big Game. This novel is set on Kodiak Island where I live, and I will write more about it in my next blog.

Robin