Ants and Copernicus

Formicidae Denizens

I have a colony of ants in my bathroom.  The colony is part of a massive one that is, no doubt, scattered throughout the entire apartment building.  I've had my little battles with them for a couple of years now.  I always ALWAYS feel guilty for setting traps.  I don't like killing anything.  But I see it like this: they're destroying the structural integrity of the home in which my son is sleeping.  An earthquake plus rotting wood frame does not equal safety.  So I set the traps.

Well, I think about ants now and then.  Probably more than a gal should.  Collective species, eausocial, superorganisms, they are.  They share information with each other about where to find food, where is the nearest threat, should they build up or out despite zoning laws, etc.... The queen is the brain, in a way.  The nexus of the collective.  Her wishes become the colony's missions.  The workers carry out the mission while soldier ants protect them from invaders.  The collective system is strong and runs like a well-oiled machine.  That is the world of ants.  Ants don't survive well alone.

Ants don't survive well by themselves, (unless there are other bugs to help them).

Well anyway, I take a shower and see ants taking the food from the traps.  The food contains boric acid, which mixes well with sugar and slowly kills the ants and queen, since she is fed this food like a diva being fed bonbons.  And I think about this.  The queen eats this stuff, maybe detecting something odd, knowing it's not a normal food, and still wants more.

The ant queen, middle, is the nexus of the colony.  Is she wants poisonous bonbons, then you better dang well get her some poisonous bonbons.

Her wishes become the colony's mission, remember? They keep eating the poisonous food and bringing it back to her.  They are all living for the next 24 hours on borrowed time, all because momma queenie has to be kept happy and fat.

You better keep her happy!

Well, I see some poor ant there in the shower with me.  Now I have a vivid imagination.  I imagine she's talking to another ant, most likely about where the bait is, maybe about how hot and humid it got suddenly, who knows.  She kinda stops a bit, appears perplexed, like something is amiss, then regains the pheromone trail the others are on.  I look at this worker ant, just there, doing her job, and I think, "I bet she knows there's something wrong with this food."  (Another part of my brain goes on a tangent thinking, "Awww crap.  The ants.  They know too much!" And a 1940's noir-style scenario where the ants are like an insect mafia and I'm an undercover cop starts taking off.  That scenario runs in my mind's background and amuses other parts of my brain at that point.)

But Yelp said the food in Sarah's bathroom was awesome!

This poor worker ant.  She tastes the food, says, "Something is horribly wrong with this food source.  We shouldn't be eating this," and has no choice but to carry out her mission.  It would be nearly impossible for her to walk away from her colony and away from the danger.  She'd have no protection, no communication, and a sense that she is not fulfilling the mission she knew from the first time she left her larval stage.  She is doomed, and she knows it.  She will watch her sisters die, her queen die, and she won't be able to stop it.

The little worker ant in my shower has this on one of her Pinterest boards, I bet.

I then start thinking about humans that have been in this sort of position.  Those people who say, "Hey, something isn't right here. This doesn't make sense."

A person who sees a truth the others don't is a very lonely person.  Everyone else around this person goes along with some directive without questioning "Why?" If he or she says, "You know, this doesn't add up" she/he feels or actually is oustracized, belittled, made fun of.  A lonely life.  That person has to decide "do I go along with the crowd because they are my family and friends, or do I stay here alone with the truth?"

Copernicus.  He was sure the earth revolved around the sun and not the other way around.  He was also very afraid to offend the church and his collegues with the truth he knew.

Nicolaus Copernicus was one of those people.  He has been credited with the heliocentric model.  He said the earth revolves around the sun, not the other way around.  He was really, really nervous about telling everyone about his findings.  His closest friends knew what he had found, and said, "Come on, Nick, publish this!" but he was so worried about religious objections that it was only at his deathbed that De revolutionibus orbium coelestium was printed.  If it weren't for the support of his closest friends, the heliocentric model of the solar system and subsequent discoveries would have been in jeapordy.   Around 50-60 years later Kepler and Galileo gave Copernicus's theory the world-wide treatment it deserved.  Both of these men, too, were alone in their ant-worlds, pointing to a truth the established colony denied existed.

Seems like such an ordinary fact to you and me, but in the mid 1600's this picture was heresy and could get you killed. Times change, science advances, humanity advances.  What seems far-fetched and blasphemous to many now may be an ordinary fact in a 100 years.  You or I could be one of the people who change humanity's mind, if we're brave enough.

In the 16th century, it took guts for a man to say, "The earth is not the center of the universe."  That takes cajones.  Guys like Copernicus stood to lose everything, including their lives.  We look back at people in that era and say, "Those guys, were stupid!  Of COURSE the Earth revolves around the sun.  Pfft, everyone knows that!"   Well, we know it now because brave people decided to ask a few questions instead of just accepting what everyone simply accepted as truth.  In fact, most of the advances in science and morality that we take for granted-take as fact now, were only brought to light by men and women who stood alone in a sea of hatred and contempt with nothing but their belief in their truth.

It's a lonely world for these people. Humanity moves forward, and it has done so on the backs of lonely and accused people.




LINKS

A look at how far humanity has come in what we know to be true.

Link to timelines of scientific advances

Persecution of scientists goes on even in this century.
Directory of Persecuted Scientists, Engineers and Health Professionals

This was just a kinda interesting perspective.
They Laughed at the Wright Brothers 

Also gives an enlightening perspective on folks who risked something to tell a truth.
Ridiculed Discoverers, Vindicated Mavericks

Zombie Ants
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2011/03/pictures/110303-zombie-ants-fungus-new-species-fungi-bugs-science-brazil/

The fungus that creates zombie ants
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ophiocordyceps_unilateralis

What the hell, for you zombie fans
Tetrodotoxin, the toxin that may or may not cause people to think they are zombies

Contemplating Separation from a Unique Relationship

Might have to do this. 

No, no, no... not separation from a person.  This is the contemplation of separation from an entity.  In this case, my part time job.  I can't really say, in this post, what entity it is because I will be engaging in something I don't have time for.  Let's just call it "The Organization", or "Org", for short.

The Org employs millions.  It has mission statements and business models.  It tries to manage everyone and cut costs at the same time.  Could be any business, at this point.  Some ideas work spectacularly.  Others fail miserably.

Just a droid, I am.

Recently, I've been sitting at the business end of a bad idea the Org had.  Due to recent advances in technology (good thing) and budget cuts (bad thing) the Org decided to ask non-administrative types (such as myself) to perform an administrative task, usually reserved for trained administrative professionals, using new technology.  (Never, ever take your administrative assistants for granted.  Ever.)

ON PAPER this should work.  Things usually work well... on paper.  But those of us who have been here on planet Earth a bit know this is usually not the case.  Good planners plan for that.  But busy, overtasked, or undertrained planners don't get that far.

That's the set up to my issue.  I recently had to perform an administrative task, related to my pay - a crucial part of anyone's life and job - that was not well-planned.  I was using a new software to process a request for payment.  This task used to be done by humans, and it seemed to work.  The new way eliminates that human.  It was supposed to speed up the process of payment.  Instead, I went through the wringer.

Yeah, I'm Curly with his hands like that.  (And Grenada must be an awesome place to create a stamp like this.)

I struggled through this software.  I thought I did well.  Needless to say, I didn't.  I messed everything up.  I only found this out after seeing that certain payees had not received a payment that was supposed to be deducted from my pay.  Oy!  I thought I fixed that problem.  Now I see I owe more.  The sum is suspiciously close to the price of 2 airline tickets - something I know (or believed) I asked the task software to do.   Not having a live human to handle my handwritten pay requests leaves a machine to fill in the blanks - which it cannot do.

How quaint.

So here I am, angry enough to write my frustrations down.

I spent about a week of work time at my real job trying to fix this.  When I was supposed to be fixing things at my real job, I was working on this, instead.  It wore down my patience.  And I have always been considered patient.  What bothered me the most is, had I used the old way and submitted all of this to a real human, who knew my circumstances, none of this would have happened.

So now I owe some other entity a sum that equals 2 airline tickets.  It's money Org has and won't release without reworking the convoluted system, which will take my time, my effort, my sanity.

Now, I want to stress that it is not the people in the Org I work with who are upsetting me.  They are dealing with the same issues.  It is the Org's policies and regulations that are upsetting.  (I love my co-workers.  They are amazing people.  Really.  They are simply amazing.) But of all of the problems, issues, on my plate right now, nearly 80% of them are from this part-time job with the Org.

Most of the problems are related to payment the Org has said it would/will/should make to other entities, and instead I am getting the bills because it expected non-administrative people to do very detailed and complicated administrative tasks that are outside their training, scope, time, etc...   This, to me, is unacceptable.  It's like dating a guy with a gambling problem and I'm paying off the loan shark so "Rollo" doesn't take his legs.

A feel like Michel Bluth a little too often. Getting Gob out of another mess.

Lately the Org has asked so much of me and my co-workers.  It's been throwing its mistakes into our laps so we spend our own money to fix its problems.  (I already get that relationship from my healthcare provider, geez.)

I know, I know, each entity we work for has good and bad moments, and it is always a good thing to work, but look at it like a relationship.  Look at it like a marriage.  (That is basically what we have -we make a commitment to an entity or company, swearing to be faithful until we retire, or find a better partner, right?)  In my world, I don't have a boyfriend/husband, I have my job.  (Which makes this job with the Org an extra marital affair of sorts.  Such scandal!)

I want to download this book.  Because I feel betrayed by Org.

Well, what do I do?  This relationship is strained.  I already have a "full-time marriage" that supports me.  My relationship with the Org has always cost me time, but now, it's beginning to cost money to stay in this relationship. Money I don't have.  I'm supposed to be paid by the Org, not fix its financial problems.  I have 6 more years until I can retire from the Org.  6 more years of getting bills in the mail from something the Org said it would take care of.  6 more years of unexpected requests and demands "or else you won't get paid".  6 more years of watching other friends give up.  6 more years of not getting the same benefits the full-time people in the Org get, but being expected to do the same job, just to save a buck.

I'm tired, too, sista.

I don't know, anymore, if this is a low point in the Org-marriage, or me being taken advantage of.  It feels like the latter.  I don't want to leave these wonderful people, but each bill or email about money makes me inch away from Org.  Makes me want to throw my stuff in a U-haul and sadly drive away.

Patience

I follow the Dalai Lama on FB and Google +.  Today he posted about patience.  


"...The practice of patience guards us against losing our presence of mind. It enables us to remain undisturbed, even when the situation is really difficult. It gives us a certain amount of inner peace, which allows us some self-control, so that we can choose to respond to situations in an appropriate and compassionate manner, rather than being driven by our disturbing emotions."

Humans are amazing.  We can suppress the urge to kill each other by using patience.

I normally consider myself really patient.  Lately, that has not been the first adjective that I would have used for myself.  Oh, I've been patient with my goals and such, but lately my patience with people has waned. 

In the past I have had to exercise extreme patience with my son.*  Kids with processing problems need patience or else they start to feel unworthy.  (They need love, too, but that goes without saying.)  I think I've always had the ingredients for that kind of stamina, but I think my son taught me Industrial Strength Patience.  I later had "patience refresher training" when I helped my mother care for an Alziemer's patient and my dementia-suffering grandmother, all under the same roof.  


I think being a parent has increased my capacity for love, and therefore by association, patience.  I am less likely to, say, sucker-punch a lady if I look at her and think, "Bless her heart, she's someone's baby.  I guess I'll just put my fists back in my pocket."  This strategy has worked well for me, so I stick with it.  

The trick, I've found, to employing patience to avoid multiple homicides is directly related to 2 things.  The first is money.  Being paid money to be patient.  The more money they pay you, the more patience you have.  Any geriatric nurse or Fox Studios errand boy will probably agree with this.  It's horribly true.   Money can fix many problems.  And those it can't fix, it can at least render neutralized for a while.

The other thing that is directly proportional to patience, is love.  Good old, sucka-fool love.  If you are a parent, you know this. If you are caring for your aging parents (and haven't killed them yet), that's love working right there. Good on ya'.  

Well, it works most of the time.  I have a few friends who test my patience on a regular basis.  One or two of them do it everyday.  In unique ways, I love them.  Lately, I have had to juggle a couple of these noodle-heads along with everything else.  I try to do the "someone's baby" thing with them, but it only works for a second or two until the next sentence comes out of their mouths.  My defense is like a phaser blast that just impacts on the surface. It doesn't go in.  So I desperately whip out the auxilliary strategy - I pretend they have cerebral damage.  But they vote and drive cars and such!  My logic tells me they would not be able to do these things if they were truly incapacitated, so I get upset again. This has happened over and over lately. 

So I sit and ponder, "What can I do to be more patient?"   Well, I can't change them all.  (I can influence them, but I can't change them.)  I can change me.  I can change my reaction, my choice of words/retorts, my interactions.  It's the right thing to do, and it's cheaper than hiring a violent crimes lawyer.  Like my buddy DL up there says, "...patience... allows us some self-control."  I want self-control. 

The problem is actually my perception.  I perceive an issue that rattles my view of the world, and I react to that. Therefore, I should only have to change my perception of the world, or of the idiot  -I mean, per-son in front of me, or stop and acknowledge that this is a situation that I cannot control, and I should trust in something greater... to key their car for me.**  

Perhaps, with this new strategy, we can see the following scenario, instead of crime scene tape:

Friend:  I'm going on a trip and I'm going to leave my car unlicensed in a remote location no one can get to. hahaha

Me: You're an idiot. I am impatient with your behavior.

Friend: Hahahaha.

Me: Let me help you fill out a power of attorney for it, and I can register it and take care of that problem.. again.  (Bless his heart he's someone's kid.  :/ )

Friend:  Nope.  I want to make it difficult so I can learn things.  Learning is so much fun.  It will be awesome to experience the pain of learning.

Me: Have you ever had a CAT scan of your frontal...?  Oh never mind.  (Auxillary patience strategy depleted.)

Friend: The car is not street legal, by the way.

(Here is where I have to guard my presence of mind.  Friend is young.  He is learning. He's allowed to make mistakes just like I was.  People were patient with me, I should pass that forward to him.  The perception of the scene changes, and I can be patient because I know I only saw it from my point of view.)

Me:  I won't kill you after all.

Friend: Hahahaha




By the way, Friend is actually a great guy.  Love the kid.  He should write about the picture-perfect stupid things I do.  It would be a good thing.

*I'll write more later on autism because I feel I need to share with other moms who may be going through that emotional roller coaster.


** I don't key cars and would never do such things, but I imagine it would render some level of satisfaction.

Stupid Change

STUPID CHANGES.
Everything, will you just stay the same for a fraction of a second?  Please?

Crab Face.  I chuckle when I see this.  I was showing a friend how I demonstrate annoyance.

The older and busier I get, the more I hate, hate, hate it when things change around me and I have to adapt, yet again.  Adaptation = Life, so we all have to get used to it.

People leave, jobs change, and I, you, still have to maintain.  We all do, I know, but there are days when you really just want to scream, cry or punch the idiot who's smiling all the time. (I can't stand that guy.  ;)

Some people drink.  Some withdraw and chose isolation.  Some go wild.  Some, like me, are quiet until the dam breaks and all hell breaks lose.

Those are the times when your vices tempt you and you have to almost push yourself to do the right thing, which is to trust in yourself, or someone, or a higher power, or fate and just take the baby steps through it all.

I'm going through all of that right now.  2 dear friends are leaving, and I am dealing with changes in my job.  I am also being forced to re-evaluate a belief system.  So much to process.

How do I plan to cope?

-Humor, for one.  If I can laugh at myself, I know I'm going to be ok.  I give myself lots of material.  :)
-Writing.  Blogs, journals, etc... You have power over the words, and therefore the thoughts, and it gives you back a measure of control in an uncontrolled world.
-Reading Twitter hashtags like #coping, #ihateitwhen #ithurtswhen  It would seem the opposite, but actually  I see that I'm not alone.  And suddenly I feel like there are a thousand people who understand what I'm going through.
-Guided meditation tapes and books.
-Crossword puzzles.
-REM sleep if I can get it, regardless of the dreams.  The dreams are your brain dumping the temp file and sorting and archiving the mind.  Don't do alcohol or pills if you want to allow your brain to help sort your problems.
-Hold a cat.
-Humor sites on the web.  Good heavens, there are a million of them.  www.awkwardfamilyphotos.com is pretty good place to start.

I remember a particularly bad month when I was active duty in Korea.  I wrote on the community white board, "This, too, shall pass."  I saw a few folks had later written their agreement in some shape or form.  I knew I wasn't alone.  And sure enough that particular misery ended, just like this particular trial will end.

BioBlitz 2012, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado, Species Inventory Information, Facts -- National Geographic

BioBlitz 2012, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado, Species Inventory Information, Facts -- National Geographic

I am planning on trying to do this.  Seems like fun!

Moving Forward One Step at a Time

I follow a Facebook entity called "Pay It Forward" that posts positive stuff.  Well, this was posted this morning and it grabbed more of my attention than the others.

I instantly thought of how I climbed my way from scared, unemployed, newly-separated/divorced, struggling mom with an autistic child, living with relatives to a 2-job, self-reliant, rent-paying mom with a son who will go to college.  It took about... meh, 13 years.  It sounds like such a long time, but when I look back, it went fast.  It was not a walk in the park, but it wasn't as herculean as I thought it would be.

Wally, Kiggee and I, living with my mom in December 2000.  Wally had just been diagnosed with moderate autism.

That's good news for other women (and men) who are struggling to get on their own two feet.  It's do-able.  It's not likely to be overnight, but baby steps make it manageable.  The "I want to do it" step is pretty crucial.  So is the "How do I do it?" step.  It's also the largest step from there to "I'll try" because it is filled with making mistakes.  That massive, mental wall associated with change and mistakes stops most people.  It held me back for a long time.  My insecurity level was huge.  I know I'm not alone (read a friend's blog and her struggle with moving from dark to light places), but it felt like I was alone, and stupid.   I can be a bit of a perfectionist with some things, and I didn't want to deal with feeling stupid and clueless.  But when you are a head of a household, you have no choice.  You have to just run through the flames and be scared later.  (Read this post from a friend's blog regarding leadership. It describes the way love overcomes the fears associated with leading.)

After my ex and I separated, I was living a gypsy life with my son.  We moved so many times, I lost track.  I worked unstable, hourly jobs, and we either lived in efficiencies or with relatives in guest rooms or attics.

Our efficiency in Blacksburg, VA.  

I slept on a couch or on the floor in a sleeping bag for about 4-5 years so my baby could have the twin bed.  I felt useless.  I was timid and insecure.  All of my childhood dreams just faded, and I felt like a loser.  I had gone from a relatively affluent, secure, happy life to borderline poverty.

Sleeping on the floor in the tent in the days before I had a real bed.  Actually, some of the best sleep I've ever had.

Getting back into the working, self-reliant game was like standing in front of a pool.  It finally became clear that I had to get in the water.  Jump, wade, whatever.  I had to do something.  Understanding what I wanted was the first thing.  What were my goals?  Where was I going before the train derailed?

Here were my original goals:  I wanted a home in Southern California with a view of the ocean.  I wanted a job that included creative arts, nature, the military.  I wanted my son to blossom in a safe public school.   And I wanted a loving husband who would be a good father to my son and a best friend to me.  That's all.  No small request, huh?    

Having known the benefits of military life as a military brat and former soldier, I tried to go back into the service*.  Strike one - I was too old.  Whoa!  Punch a gal when she's down!  I was, however, able to go into the Reserves.  This was less stable, but it meant some money, training, and a step forward.  It also turned out to be the right job at the right time.

Me.  Videographer for the AF Reserve. 

As part of my military training, I had to attend the Defense Information School (DINFOS) at Ft Meade, Maryland for 3 months while my son was thousands of miles away with his dad in New York.  That was tough.  I had been with my baby boy for so long that the separation could only be displaced by the intense training I received at DINFOS.  I was thankful for that.

After climbing that first step, I set my sights on a full-time, salaried job. When I finished DINFOS I rushed up to NY, grabbed the apartment and applied for a federal job.  I didn't care what kind of job it was.  I just wanted a foot in the door.

THAT was the uphill part.  You may have to do the sucky job to get to that next level.  Make it part of the plan.  Embrace the suck and keep your eyes on the horizon.  For the next year or so I was a Patient Services Assistant.  GS-5.  Federal worker-bee.  I was tethered to a phone with limited breaks in a windowless room.  It was not the creative job I dreamed of as a little girl, but it paid the bills and gave me stability.  I had crappy days and great days.  

Jeremy, a fellow PSA from the Syracuse VA.  This guy made me laugh everyday.
6 of the 8 of us were veterans, ourselves.
Everyday I made appointments for some real heroes.

I met amazing people who made me thankful to be alive.  It was the job I was supposed to have at that time and place.  I knew it was a step to something else, and I was thankful for it.

My next goal was to get to California.  It was always a dream of mine to be there.  Always.  But LA was over 2000 miles away.  I applied to tons of federal jobs there.  After months I gave up and said,  "Screw it.  I'm moving out there anyway".  I managed to schedule some extra work with the reserves, rented a U-Haul trailer, and drove myself, the Boy and 2 cats across this great country.  We stayed with my ever-accomodating sister until I found an apartment.  I signed up for art classes at a local community college in the hopes that I could land an internship, or student job, or something.

The kittens in the attic of my ever-accomodating sister's house. 

I had always wanted to work as an artist, and I was finally approaching that goal with art classes.  However, I was walking a financial tight-rope that was about to snap.  Then one day I was on the way to a design class when I got a call out of the blue.  Would I come to LA Air Force Base for a GS-7 job?  Typical.  I am trying to make a lifelong goal come to fruition and the universe offers me a massive choice: Art or federal, worker-bee financial stability?   I took the financially stable job.

Me at my cubicle working for the 61st Comm Squadron, LA Air Force Base. 

For the next 2 years I worked as an audio-visual technician.  It was not related to art.  It was not creative.  But it was a step up.  I could pay the rent.  We could eat.  It was paycheck to paycheck, but I was keeping us above water.  We had a 1 bedroom apartment and I slept on the couch in the living room.  I had good days and bad days.  It gave me enough pause to scan the horizon to the next goal - a safer place to live that was closer to work.  (Trust me, in LA you want to live close to work.  Traffic sucks, plain and simple.)  It was the job I was supposed to have at that time and place.

I also wanted to work outside again.  I thought adding wildland search and rescue to my resume would make it easier to step into the Department of Interior jobs again, so I started with classes in Community Emergency Response Team (CERT).  It just so happened that these classes took place in a part of LA I never knew existed - Rancho Palos Verdes.  As I was driving to my first class, I knew I was going to live there somehow, someway.  It was the right class at the right time.

After a little research I found an apartment complex that fit our budget.  We went from a 1 bedroom/1 bath in Pasadena, to a 2 bed/2bath in RPV.  I even had a smallish view of the ocean - another thing I had always dreamed of.   After about a year I inquired about an apartment with a full view of the ocean, and I got it.

A year later I applied for a photography position at LA AFB.  I got the job.  It's an amazing job.  It is not the final goal job, but it is the job I am supposed to have right now in this place.  Catch the theme?   You are always where you are supposed to be, for whatever reason, at this place and time, going through whatever it is you are going through.

Me as a bona fide photographer at the Rose Parade float decoration event for USAF Space and Missile Systems Center.  Taken in Pasadena, Calif., 2012.  

Ask and ye shall receive.  That's the "I want to do it" step up there.  Find the end point you want and realize that you may have to work stupid jobs for a while,  live in a small place for a while, drive in stupid traffic for a while, but you'll get there.  You will always be where you are supposed to be, so relax a little.

Now I have a creative military job (as a reservist and civilian), an apartment with a view of the ocean, I make jewelry in my spare time, and have some amazing male role models for my son, who is doing pretty well in a great school.  It's not the house with a yard, or the studio art job, or the devoted husband, but it's close.  

View from my patio and kitchen window.  I know I am thankful every, single,  friggin' day for this view.
I say it EVERY day.
Thankful, thankful, thankful.
I worked hard for it.  It's a reminder that I can take none of this for granted.  

I am still pursuing the goals I wrote above, but I know I will always be where I am supposed to be, doing what I am supposed to do.  I will have those results in some shape or form, and will have to recognize that and be thankful.  Until then, I am right where I'm supposed to be, with what I'm supposed to have, right now, and I am happy.

*For you younger single parents, if you are really struggling, the military is one of the best ways to get back on your feet.  Yeah, you have to "embrace the suck" as we say and do PT every day, wear a uniform and go through basic training, but it's just 8 weeks of your life that is a bit of hell.  Even then, you're getting full medical/dental and getting paid.  You also have a roof over your head and you are self-reliant.  That pride is priceless and totally worth 8 weeks.


Thanks to my friends, Sabrina George and Nate St, Pierre for inspiring this post. 

Arise! Leviathan of the Deep!

At six every morning a group of people start to assemble on the cliffs of Rancho Palos Verdes.  Below them, under the blue Pacific, are their targets.  Other groups like them form loose squads up and down the Pacific Coast.  They volunteered for their mission, and yet they are unarmed.  They set up their positions, check their bearings, and begin scanning the blue horizon.  They peer quietly through their binoculars or telescopes.  The ignore the tugs and freighters, quickly dismissing their markings and bearing.  What they seek lies below the surface, moving quietly and with purpose.  This morning, I was with them.

Scanning the horizon.

The grey-haired gentleman to my left, who is scanning the southern sector suddenly stops, breaths in a bit and bellows, "Arise!!! Leviathan of the Deep!!!"

Suddenly, there is much more activity.

"Where?  Bearing?"

"136!  Do you see it?!"

A pause as everyone focuses their eyes.  Suddenly, I see what they are looking for.

Gray whales spouting.

A shiny, deep gray form breaks the surface of the water, moving north.   A whale!!!  Then I see the plume.  I can hear it breathing in!  Powerful!

Whales. A pod of four gray whales breaking the surface of the water to breathe before they go back down for about 4-5 minutes.  Beautiful creatures!

Cetacean comparison chart.

The group chatters excitedly and documents everything. Their enthusiasm gets carried over to the joggers and walkers along the coastal hiking trail. These people are not part of the Civil Defense or Coast Guard Auxiliary, looking for enemy submarines. They are whale watchers. Volunteers, all of them. These men and women are whale spotters for the American Cetacean Society's (ACS) Gray Whale Census.

ACS Gray Whale Census Volunteers.  I was told the patches on the chairs are designed by volunteers and represent each season in which the volunteer participated.

The group tracks and counts gray whales and other marine mammals that move up and down the US Pacific coast.  Their "camp" is the Point Vicente Interpretive Center, a nature center that showcases the flora, fauna, history, and marine ecosystems of the Palos Verdes Penninsula near Los Angeles, Calif.

This season's whale counts have been big. There have even been orcas spotted in the harbor this year. 

This morning the group consisted of local residents Jean, Bob, Steve, Nancy, and Stephanie.  Bob tells me that the group has been doing this for around 30 years.  They are unpaid, dedicated, and work in all kinds of weather.  (Read the Wall Street Journal article -if you subscribe - about these dedicated people.)

Volunteers keep an eye on the gray whale pod they spotted traveling north.

The group tracked a pod of grays as they moved north up the coast.  Several species migrate along the Pacific coast, but the ACS, based in San Pedro, Calif., tracks the Eastern Pacific gray whales because they frequently use the California coast and Channel Island corridor as their route.

The Pacific ocean from the Palos Verdes Peninsula looking toward a hazy Malibu in the distance.  The Channel Islands, out of view but to the left, create a very busy cetacean migration route, mirroring the human, yet just as busy 405 Freeway that runs the same direction on land. 

The whale spotters track numbers, species, behavior, and the number of calves they see.  They only see a handful of a great number of migrating whales, but their data is indicative of the overall health of the migrating species. This year there has been a record number of southbound gray whale sightings.

Stephanie, a veteran whale counter, uses a telescope to track a gray whale pod.   She recorded the number of whales, times they surfaced, and if they "fluked" - showed their tails before diving under.

As the pod began to move out of sight, I took my leave (and took a a few pictures) just as a group of school kids arrived at the center.

Kids line the railing next to the Pt. Vicente Interpretive Center.  

I watched as they were quickly ushered to the railings to catch a glimpse of the whale pod as they took their deep breaths before going under for another 4-5 minutes.  I saw the ACS volunteers watch them with pleased smiles. I wondered if the kids realized how lucky we are to see such magnificent animals.  Maybe one of them will be watching for whales one day.

Resources and Sites:

Blue Whale Census and Behavior Project at http://acsonline.org/conservation/gray-whale-census-and-behavior-project/

The ACS Los Angeles Chapter at http://www.acs-la.org/resources.htm

Slide show of whale watchers in the WSJ images about the whale watchers

Follow the ACS on Twitter @CetaceanSociety

They're also on Facebook at www.facebook.com/AmericanCetaceanSociety