I missed this story when
it broke on October 2. Most big papers covered it, under headlines more or less
like Justin Moyer’s: “As sea ice melts amid global warming, 35,000 walruses
crowd the shores of Alaska” (“Morning Mix,” washingtonpost.com).
I got wind of it 16 days late, via the Gail Collins New York Times column that the AJC
reprints on Saturdays. Her headline was “Politicians ignore dire signs of
climate change,” and while this record-breaking congregation of walruses was
her hook, she was really after those politicians: Alaska Republican senate-hopeful
Dan Sullivan obfuscating, “There is no concrete scientific consensus on the
extent to which humans contribute to climate change”; Louisiana Governor Bobby
Jindal calling climate change a “Trojan horse,” WeverTF that might mean; Mitch McConnell’s historic pronouncement on behalf of
the entire thumb-up-your-ass crowd: “I am not a scientist.”
It’s a great column, but let’s get back to those walruses.
For those of you who, like me, are a little hazy on marine mammals in distant
climes, walruses are those comically bewhiskered, grotesquely betusked,
pathetically beflippered, and enormously beblubbered animals you see lounging
around on ice floes. True, in the frigid waters where they spend two-thirds of
their time, whiskers, tusks, flippers, and fat come in handy—whiskers to find
those kilos of bivalves on the ocean floor, for instance, and the icepick tusks
to “haul out” onto the ice once the 3,000-pound beasts have stuffed
themselves. They forage in the shallow waters of the continental shelf,
following Arctic ice north as it melts in the summer and back south again as
the water refreezes in winter.
In early summer, the females haul out onto the ice to
deliver the 100-plus-pound calves that have been gestating for fifteen months.
The young, though they can swim at birth, spend a year on the teat and may
choose to tag along with their mothers for several more after that. Young males
loaf the first half of their lives away, shirking their duty to the species
until they’re 15 or so. Right away they go back to their old ways and have no
truck with child-rearing—an arrangement the females seem to have no objection
to. What with the “nature red in tooth and claw” business, walruses seem to
have it pretty good. Found their niche, you might say, following the weather.
Which brings us back to the 35,000 that made the
headlines. They’re part of the Pacific population of 200,000, by the way, which
represents four-fifths of the world’s total. They’ve hauled out on Alaska’s
extreme northwest coast, where the Chukchi Sea turns into the Arctic Ocean.
Walruses routinely haul out on land, in small groups, mostly males, but the
35,000 are mostly female with their young. It’s hard to imagine that they like
it there, with a dwindling food supply and crowded, messy quarters—not to
mention the violent stampedes incited by polar bear attack, which cause so many
fatalities among the young as to be a serious conservation concern.
Well,
why don’t they leave? Because their ice has disappeared, and they’re waiting
for cold weather to bring it back. It’s
been happening more and more. Three years ago, an unheard-of crowd of 30,000
walruses hauled out on land for the same reason. I think I can predict with
confidence that 2014’s claim on the record will be short-lived. As the U.S.
Geological Survey reported plainly, “The walruses are hauling out on land in a
spectacle that has become all too common in six of the last eight years as a
consequence of climate-induced warming. Summer sea ice is retreating far north
of the shallow continental shelf waters of the Chukchi Sea . . ., a condition that did not occur a decade ago.”
Isn’t
shrinking sea ice visible? Isn’t it measurable? Isn’t it infactable? Yes, in
fact, it is. National Geographic’s
October 2 report on the walruses (“Biggest walrus gathering recorded as sea ice
shrinks”) cites the official NASA estimate that Arctic sea ice has retreated by
12 percent per decade since the late 1070s. It also links to the NASA website
for confirmation.
“The
walruses are telling us what the polar bears have told us and what many
indigenous people have told us in the high Arctic,” says Margaret Williams of
the World Wildlife Fund’s Arctic program, “and that is that the Arctic
environment is changing extremely rapidly and it is time for the rest of the
world to take notice.”
Is
it time? Say so at the polls in 10 days.
Get out the Vote meets National Geographic-- I love this blog!
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