Ocean’s bounty is not limitless
Many in the crowds lining the rail of the Capitola Wharf last
weekend kept echoing the same observation:
”
It’s like something out of ‘The Birds.’
”
Many of them did not know how right they were.
Ocean’s bounty is not limitless
Many in the crowds lining the rail of the Capitola Wharf last weekend kept echoing the same observation: “It’s like something out of ‘The Birds.'”
Many of them did not know how right they were.
Alfred Hitchcock’s classic thriller about a small California seaside town where the birds suddenly develop a single-minded devotion to human mayhem has its roots in Capitola.
It was there in August 1961 that thousands of seabirds, stuffed to bursting with anchovies, came ashore in the predawn hours, slamming into walls and windows. It was thought at the time that the birds became confused in dense fog and headed inland rather than out to sea.
itchcock kept a summer place near town, and was frequently seen shopping at a local produce stand.
The curious event, and the news reports that followed, gave Hitchcock the germ of an idea that became “The Birds.”
The birds that came ashore in 1961 were sooty shearwaters, one of a large group of seabirds that rarely come near shore. Together, the birds are referred to as pelagic species, a name borrowed from Greek mythology, meaning “of the sea.”
The gulls and brown pelicans most of us think of as seabirds are really coastal species that keep one foot firmly planted on land. Indeed, the only state in America without resident gulls is Hawaii.
Albatrosses, petrels, shearwaters and the like are seldom seen near shore. The exception in Monterey Bay is the annual arrival of millions of sooty shearwaters, usually seen in clouds of such number that the birds resemble nothing so much as smoke blowing over the waves far offshore.
But visitors to Capitola were treated in recent days to a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle as the shearwaters joined gulls, pelicans and terns gorging on anchovies massed just outside the surf line.
One experienced observer put the number of shearwaters gathered around the wharf at 40,000. The roar of wings and thousands of birds calling out was memorable.
While the shearwaters seldom venture that close to shore, it was a reminder of what a rich place the Monterey Bay is. A trip offshore can reveal a host of birds in staggering numbers, dolphins, whales and fish in numbers beyond counting.
The bay, split down its middle by a colossal submarine canyon big enough to swallow the Grand Canyon, is fed a rich broth as the result of summer weather patterns. Nutrient-rich water is pushed up and out of the canyon, where it spills across the much shallower bay waters, feeding small creatures that in turn feed larger ones.
Seeing what hundreds came to see last weekend, it’s hard to think of anything in the sea as finite, but biologists tell us that much of the world’s seafood is being caught and consumed faster than it can be replenished.
If our children’s children are ever to bear witness to the spectacle that unfolded just off Capitola beach, we’ll all have to vote with our wallets by consuming seafood that is harvested responsibly.
The Monterey Bay Aquarium makes it simple with a guide to what is sustainable and what’s not that is available at http://www.mbayaq.org/cr/SeafoodWatch.asp.
It’s a small way to give a nod to the planet’s last, greatest wilderness.
