Spherical Feast

A giant 'bait ball' of anchovy, with two humpback whales approaching on the lower right. Photo: Liz Vernand via GrindTV

A giant ‘bait ball’ of anchovy, with two humpback whales approaching on the lower right.
Photo: Liz Vernand via GrindTV

Massive anchovy swarms off the coast of California have kept marine mammals and their observers busy for the past couple of months. It’s not so much that there are more anchovy than usual, it’s that there are more anchovy gathered in one place.

According to this article, anchovy movement can be due to a number of factors – plentiful plankton, mild temperatures – and this year, the anchovy stars aligned over Monterey Bay. Their presence, telegraphed far and wide via whale song, has set off a feeding frenzy of seals, whales, dolphins, and the press.

Northern anchovy Photo: Monterey Bay Aquarium

Northern anchovy
Photo: Monterey Bay Aquarium

Anchovies and other small fish are known as ‘bait fish’ or ‘forage fish’, and form a key element in the marine food chain for mammals and the larger fish that humans prefer to see on their dinner plates. Some have recommended that humans switch away from the larger fish, which are being hunted by vast fishing fleets, to these smaller forage fish for human consumption.

Currently, we fish bait fish for use as feed to the other animals we prefer to eat – pigs, chickens, salmon. The ratio of forage fish feed to salmon, however, is around 5:1. Not very efficient. But the smaller fish, which tend to be oily, just aren’t popular for human consumption.

Anyway, the whales do exactly what human fishermen when they come across a bounty like this – they keep fishing until they’re full, or the fish are gone.

Here’s a very cool short clip, created by Robert Hodgin for the Auckland Museum, of how a bait ball works (in this case, sardines).

Seal Baseline

Harbor seals, Pt. Reyes Seashore The blurred aspect is due to large quantities of airborne sand. Photo: PK Read

Harbor seals, Pt. Reyes Seashore
The blurred aspect is due to large quantities of airborne sand.
Photo: PK Read

Another moment from one of our hikes on the southwest beaches of the Point Reyes National Seashore. We walked out to the estero between Drake’s Beach and Limantour, and the only other people we saw were volunteers who were there counting any dead animals on the beach. The day before, they told us, they’d been counting live birds, but today it was the dead. Fortunately, several miles of beach walking had only turned up one dead shorebird, a seagull. Had we seen anything dead? Yes, we had, but just the usual massacre of crabs at the beaks of seagulls and other shorebirds. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Keeping count is an important aspect of understanding our impact on the world around us, one that is frequently forgotten. We are used to taking a census of the human population from time to time, but there are surprising gaps in our knowledge of the natural world simply because we sometimes have very few baseline numbers from which we can assess change. One good example is the lack of knowledge regarding the population of the American eel, even as the young are being harvested in record numbers. Harvest numbers, at least, are a means of counting the numbers removed from a given population.

As long as a population has the subjective appearance of abundance, we often assume the animal (or plant) populations are healthy. Often enough, the baseline numbers are a point of contention – see varying assessments of animal populations when it comes to hunting season, for example the disparity between government and environmental organization assessments of Canadian harp seal or polar bear numbers.

The seal population on the Drake Estero seemed smaller to me than it had two decades ago, on my last hike out there during pup season. But that is my own purely subjective observation. I do wonder, though, what this seal was thinking about the numbers of bipeds on the beach – he peeled off from the group lounging on the beach and followed us for about an hour, watching from the surf.

Watching us, watching him - a curious harbor seal Photo: PK Read

Watching us, watching him – a curious harbor seal
Photo: PK Read