i hate it when that happens

Whiff is the sound of my ego deflating.

Today I missed (whiffed) for the first time since my rescue net was repaired last fall. Like all my other whiffs, however, this one has an asterisk attached. Today's whiff I blame on my overly eager, dreadfully inexperienced rescue cohort. We were down at Morro Rock (thankfully not on the rock like yesterday, just on the rocks by the rock) looking at an underweight yearling and devising our strategy. While I told her I planned to creep up slowly and quietly with the net, she decided it would be helpful if she were noisy and noticeable. Her efforts to distract the sea lion from my approach only served to inform him that something was seriously up. He was able to take off before I could get close enough to get a good swing in.

For the record, I only have three other official whiffs under my belt. The first was against a big male (much larger than Tapia) who I actually had in the net a few times. I just couldn't keep him there as he kept tossing it off his head with his teeth. I blame this whiff on the fact that I was using the heavy net (it weighs 25 pounds dry). At least that whiff was somewhat exciting. My eldest nieces and hubby were watching from shore. They told me they really weren't sure who they were rooting for as it was a pretty even match. I felt further exonerated when the sea lion hauled out again and I handed the net to another volunteer (this one a man) only to watch him whiff too.

My second whiff came at 2 am on the drive on beach. This time, honestly, I wanted to whiff or else I would have taken my friend up on his offer to meet me at the beach. While it isn't always necessary to have two people around for a successful rescue, it's helpful, especially in the dark. Anyway, I didn't even really swing on this guy. Just driving up disturbed him enough that he took off for the water. This was perfectly fine with me. He was no longer in danger of being a speed bump and I could go back to bed.

My final official whiff I actually do feel horribly about. This one was on the jetty at Morro Rock, on the ocean side, of course. This sea lion really needed a rescue (he was dragging his hind end) but I chose a poor approach. I still think if I'd come from the south rather than the north, I might have had a better shot at him. As it was, I didn't have strong enough footing to take a decent swing. Essentially I just harassed him back into the water when what he needed most was rest. I really thought he'd restrand somewhere else but no such luck.

So today makes four. For those who are keeping track, I do not include Brindell among my whiffs because we did ultimately catch him. It's only a whiff if you come back empty handed... And I also don't count that entangled sea lion that I left in Cayucos last year, because I didn't even have the net with me. That's a blown assessment, not a whiff... And, now that I think about it, there was another big male I faced off against with a friend, but she had the big net - I was just the back up. We both came away empty handed, but that whiff goes on her record more than mine.

I really shouldn't be so bummed. Actually, I ought to have more whiffs on my resume. The fact that I have so few is more a testament to my cowardice than any sort of kudos to my accuracy (as I have a tendency to pass off the long shots to my more experienced friends). And besides, today's critter did have some fight left in him. It's not the worst thing to know he's spending another night in the sea.

I think I'm still just really shook up about yesterday's rescue. Though I've seen broken jaws before, there was something about Workout that I found particularly disturbing. In fact, I'm not alone. A member of our stranding staff said his injury pierced her veil of indifference too. And, yes, he has passed on to the big Rock in the sky, but I'm happy as it truly was the best thing for him. Interestingly, vet staff thinks the damage to his jaw was done by a seal bomb (basically an underwater firecracker) which I am amazed to learn is legal under the Marine Mammal Protection Act. Seal bombs are technically only legal when they don't cause bodily harm to marine mammals, but clearly they have the capacity to be devastating.

Anyway, at least the gal that helped me on yesterday's adventure is not burned out by the experience. Gnarly rescues are generally polarizing - they either get people totally addicted to the process or they scare them away forever. She swears she's still on board, so that's a good thing.

So I guess my ego and I shall retire for the evening. There are worse things in the world than whiffing. Like seal bombs.