The west coast elephant seals were almost wiped out by 19th century hunters; less than a dozen survived. There are presently several thousand of them but their genetic diversity is nil. Cheetahs have the same problem but the cause of their long-ago population crash is not known.

Bull elephant seals in good health can weight over a ton; I don't precisely recall their length; at least a dozen feet is my best guess. Their land maneuverability is wretched, though they can lunge several times their own length in a forward direction. These are the seals with the ugly long inflatable snout which lets them produce really amazing roars.

UCSC was too new to have a graduate program in 1967-75 so Professors LeBoeuf and Peterson conscripted undergraduates to help them study elephant seals. Professor Peterson was my freshman year advisor. He was also the "preceptor" (faculty member who had a downstairs apartment in a student dorm to deter students from using fire hoses in waterfights, etc.) of Dorm Seven at Adlai Stevenson College my freshman year, so a lot of undergraduates there were his helpers.

We used to have contests at night to see who could most realistically imitate the normal and special mating calls of sea lions and elephant seals. The best way to perform the mating roar of a bull elephant seal was to drink 3-6 cans of beer real fast (any carbonated beverage would do though) and then urp up all the C02 in one long belch, modulated by the larynx. Dorm Seven sounded really strange at night during the elephant seal mating season.

One of the interesting aspects of elephant seal research was marking the bull elephant seals during the mating season so we could tell them apart. This was initially done with sponges dipped in paint and nailed to 10' - 12' poles. We would then approach the bulls from the rear side and dry to dab paint on them in what we hoped would be a distinctive identifiable marking. There is a great photo of Professor LeBoeuf doing this to the nose of a bull (carefully) from the left front side while it roared its displeasure at him, which was published in both the SF Chronicle and a World Book Yearbook.

Paint was unsatisfactory in identifying the bulls. "Yellow Splotch Left Shoulder" left a lot to be desired as a name. Worse, it would wear off in the salt water and constant rubbing of the bulls against rocks. We had to constantly reapply the paint and that was a hazardous job. A lot of us saw elephant seal pup corpses which had been crushed by the bulls lunging at each other in mating battles. It could have happened to us too.

Finally either Peterson or LeBoeuf had the idea of writing to the Lady Clairol hair dye company and ask them for help. A few months later they got a phone call from the local Greyhound station saying that they had a parcel from the Lady Clairol company which had just been delivered (Greyhound shipped a lot of freight in those days).

The parcel contained a letter from the Lady Clairol company saying that their chemists hadn't had so much fun in years, instructions, one or more containers of concentrated shampoo, and several large squeeze tubes to apply it. All we had to do was to mix the concentrated solution with water and suck it up into the squeeze tubes. Voila! Lady Clairol Special Hair Dye for elephant seals in a handy applicator (now known as Lady Clairol Blue to those unaware of its original name and research origin). Just squeeze the stuff out on a bull elephant seal and it would pretty much bleach the fur. And it would stay on for months until the old fur rubbed off and new fur grew in, even when constantly immersed in salt water.

We loved it. We could paint names on the bulls in letters 12"- 18" high. "George," "Fred," "Super-Seal," etc. Easily identifiable, etc. Application required care though, but at least we didn't have to rub the stuff in real well the way we had to do with paint. This meant we could do it while the bulls were sleeping. One of us with a squeeze tube would creep up to a sleeping bull from behind while two more watched the bull's closed eyes with binoculars to catch the slightest sign of wakefulness and shout a warning to get out of there.

The marine biology department prospered. The elephant seals prospered and started a rookery in an undisclosed location somewhere along the southern California coast. Right next to a secret US Navy CBW research installation. And the best beach from which we could launch boats to get to the new rookery was just within the boundaries of that installation.

The professors asked for permission to use the beach. Permission denied. No pro-communist hippies will walk around my command! Remember that this was during the Vietnam War.

So we started naming southern California elephant seals "Anthrax," "CBW," "Botulism," "Tularemia," "(Name of Secret Installation)," and "Commander (using the real last name of the installation's commander)."

Soon reports were swarming into the media that elephant seals with such words written on their sides were being seen. It came to the attention of Naval Intelligence that military secrets were being advertised in two foot high letters on the southern California coast.

The ensuing negotiations between Professor LeBoeuf and the Navy were fascinating. The UCSC marine biology department got permission to use the beach on this secret installation in exchange for no longer publicizing it.... all thanks to Lady Clairol super-special hair dye for elephant seals.