Dave Ingram's Natural History Blog

Last week I took advantage of the lowish low tide (it was around a 2.3 foot tide) to make my way out to Schooner Cove in Pacific Rim National Park Reserve on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. Schooner Cove on a good low tide is excellent for intertidal life. This past week’s low was borderline, low enough that it was possible to make it around to the front of the two islands that are closest to the shore but not low enough to enable a leisurely exploration of the rocky areas that are covered with life.

My destination was the far island on this hike. I usually focus on island that is the first one encountered when entering the bay but on a previous visit I had checked out the second island and thought that it was well worth a closer look. The south side of this island (which is what one sees when entering the cove) is unremarkable. The north side is very interesting. Wave action has carved a series of narrow channels through the rocks making access to walls of marine life very easy. The bonus is that it is possible to explore these channels without stepping on organisms since the bottoms are covered with hard packed sand. One must be extremely cautious of what the tide is doing and the condition of the surf since these surge channels can also concentrate water movement so that waves move quickly up them.

A trio of Monterey Sea Lemons (Doris monteryensis) sit next to their ribbon like egg masses.

Since the low was mediocre and the tide was turning I didn’t have a great deal of time. Among the many different forms of life living in these channels, a pair of Sea Lemons caught my eye. They were stuck tightly on the rock wall next to their ribbon-like egg mass. Sea Lemons do look a little like lemons – they are yellow and have a knobbly texture and are about the size of a large lemon.

I’m not 100% sure on the identity of these Sea Lemons. There are two very similar looking possibilities: Noble Sea Lemon (Peltodoris nobilis – also know as Anisodoris nobilis) and Monterey Sea Lemon (Doris monteryensis – also known as Archidoris monteryensis). According to the Sea Slug forum, the former has a white frill around the edge of the ring of gills at the back of the animals, while the latter’s gill colour matches the colour of the body of the animal. Looking at the picture, I think that the gills are more yellowish than white, suggesting that these are Doris monteryensis.

I didn’t have enough time to examine these beautiful dorids for long. The tide was on its way in and I managed to take only a couple of photographs before I felt it wasn’t safe to continue. In examining the photograph while processing it with Photoshop I realized that there actually appears to be three nudibranchs in the image – can you see all three?

For more photographs of British Columbia nudibranchs check out the Island Nature article “Madrona Point Nudibranchs” by Lisa Graham.

One of the kelps that often washes up on the beaches of Vancouver Island, British Columbia is Bull Kelp (Nereocystis luetkeana). The large, diploid sporophytic stage of this species’ life cycle is the one that we typically see. The form of the kelp is characterized by a holdfast gripping a rock or some other type of anchor, and a long stipe topped by a round gas-filled bulb from which large blades or fronds are attached. Bull Kelp can grow extremely rapidly, and various accounts I have read give rates of over 6 cm per day. The kelp continues to grow until it reaches a height of 10 to 17 metres (some sources say up to 30 metres in height). With all that long line of the stipe and the very bouyant bulb, sometimes the object that the kelp is anchored to isn’t heavy enough and strong wave and wind action can bring the kelp, anchor and all to the shore.

Tangled Bull Kelp (Nereocystis luetkeana)

I found these Bull Kelp stranded on the beach at Florencia Bay in Pacific Rim National Park Reserve. I was fascinated by how intricately these kelps were intertwined, a fine tangled mess.

It appears that anchor that they chose just wasn’t heavy enough. Perhaps there’s a lesson here…

Of the three top predators in Pacific Rim National Park Reserve I have regularly seen Black Bears but have yet to have seen a Cougar (in the park) or a Grey Wolf. 

Maybe this is a good thing… 

Sometimes seeing the sign that one of these predators has passed through is enough. Early this week I was the first person on the beach at Florencia Bay. Ahead of me stretched a clean slate of sand, not a mark on it aside from the ripples made by wind and wave. I walked along, enjoying the quiet and sharing the beach with a flock of California Gulls while making note of things brought in by the tide. 

About two kilometres down the beach I headed up from the water’s edge to the strandline, or high tide mark, intending to look for plants among the driftwood and dunes at the top of the beach. It was then that I notced the tracks, a perfect line travelling south on the beach on the fresh smooth sand just below the high water mark.

Line of Grey Wolf (Canis lupus) tracks at Florencia Bay in Pacific Rim National Park Reserve.

The size of the tracks, their freshness, and the lack of any human footprints (or any people on the beach this early in the morning) accompanying them seemed to rule out a dog as the track maker. The fact that the line of tracks was so perfectly straight and that the smaller hind print registered just ahead and to the side of the fore print instead suggested Grey Wolf. In comparison, dog tracks tend to be more haphazard and wandering. 

Close-up detail of Grey Wolf (Canis lupus) tracks - note the smaller hind foot in front of and to the right of the larger fore foot.

Wolves are regularly seen on Florencia Bay and often visit the carcasses of dead seals and sealions that occassionally end up on the beach. Later I found the remains of a dead seal nearby (investigated by the animal making the tracks) and I knew that further down the beach closer to the north end a dead sealion had turned up a couple of weeks ago. 

While I would have liked to have seen the track maker I was content to know that it had been here before me. Sometimes that’s all that is needed.