Lessons from a Harp Seal

My most unexpected close encounter with nature during my trip to the arctic came in the form of the harp seal pictured above. We had just finished traversing Mugford Tickle. (A tickle is the name Newfoundlanders give to a narrow salt-water strait or channel.) The captain had allowed us guests out onto the bow of the ship, which was usually off limits because of the anchors and other equipment there. Some of us were hanging out after exiting the tickle, talking and watching, and in my case, taking pictures.

At one point, I looked down toward the water directly beneath me and this seal was there. It was a complete surprise, especially since it was swimming along upside down, chin and belly exposed to the air and my camera. If you zoom in on the photo, you can see its flippers and even its whiskers. I was thrilled. It wasn’t the stereotypical seal photo, and somehow that makes it even more special for me. This seal was comfortable enough to expose its belly to us!

Unfortunately, the exposure of the seal’s soft underbelly was something of a metaphor, for harp seals are a proverbial canary in the coal mine when it comes to climate change.

Polar bears aren’t the only ones affected by the decreasing availability of sea ice. Harp seal mothers give birth in air pockets that develop between the layers of sea ice and nurse their babies intensively for about twelve days. During that time, the babies develop a protective and nourishing layer of fat.

Then, mothers leave the babies there for six to eight weeks to mature, gain strength for swimming, and shed their baby fur for a new, waterproof coat. Baby seals are somewhat protected by being hidden within the ice. However, a predatory polar bear’s sense of smell is so strong that it can sense seals within the ice and jump on the ice to break it up, sending the baby plunging into the sea. Polar bears, who are good swimmers, like baby harp seals for lunch.

If sea ice is insufficiently available or too thin, harp seal pups can’t survive. If mothers must give birth on the surface, babies are more vulnerable to predation and the vagaries of weather. Climate change means less snow and more rain, which harp seals’ baby fur cannot repel in the first month of life. Thinner sea ice also means polar bears are more able to scent young seals and break the ice to get at them.

A scientist on our trip told us that in one recent year (it might have been 2021), 80 percent of harp seal babies did not survive. This has cascading effects on hunting potential for both polar bears and the Inuit who depend on the seals for food. (Traditionally, the Inuit also relied on seal skin and oil for warmth and light, and seal fat was used to preserve berries.)

The decline of the harp seal population is one window into the multifaceted nature of climate change. As we heard in a panel on the topic, earth’s climate is constantly changing. The problem is the pace of change—which has intensified since the industrial revolution.

So, what is ours to do? One young scientist on our team outlined two ways we can make a major difference. The first is to reduce the amount of meat we eat and choose plant proteins instead—starting with one meal or one day per week. (Have you heard about the trend called Meatless Mondays?) The second is to change our frequency and, if possible, our modes of transportation to decrease our use of fossil fuels.

I am fortunate to work from home, so I already don’t use a car every day. I can combine errands or walk to the grocery store for smaller purchases now that our desert weather is finally cooling down. I’ve already been transitioning toward less meat in my diet and will be more intentional about my purchasing choices.

We arctic travelers heard from a panel of specialists that change is already upon us. We have lost some animal species and will lose more. But hope is not lost—Mother Earth will survive, whether we do or not. Meanwhile, we have work to do.

What is your work to do?