Open 9 am - 5 pm
Cruz and Ty catch a snooze lying next to each other in the Grainger Sea Lion Cove. Ty is amost twice Cruz's size.

On an Abbott Oceanarium visit, you might see California sea lions Laguna and Cruz zooming around Grainger Sea Lion Cove or, as above, piled up for a nap. Other times Biff, who rounds out our trio of rescued sea lions, has the pool. Even when you can’t see them, you can hear these aquatic predators throughout the Pacific Northwest exhibit when they start vocalizing—and living up to their common name. These guys get along great, but they’d get testy if there were a female to trigger their territoriality, so Shedd’s colony of sea lions remains all male.


In 2004, Biff was among a group of wild sea lions who had found an easy meal of Chinook salmon along the fish ladders of the Bonneville Dam on the Columbia River. It was a case of federally protected marine mammals eating federally protected endangered fish. To monitor the incidence of predation on the salmon population, wildlife biologists and veterinarians permanently marked the sea lions with numbers large enough to see from a distance. The procedure was done under anesthesia, and the animals were given a full medical exam as part of the process. (You can still see “C700” on Biff’s back.)

Sea lion Biff looks up at a camera in the rocks, his thick, coarse whiskers on full display.

But by 2009, Biff’s number was almost up. As an identified “nuisance animal,” Biff, along with a number of other sea lions, had been relocated by wildlife biologists. But they couldn’t stay away from the protected seafood buffet. As a last resort, the sea lions were slated for permanent removal. That’s usually a death sentence, but the federal government and the marine mammal community collaborated to find Biff and the others new homes at zoos and aquariums. It was a triple win: The salmon were safer, the sea lions were saved, and Shedd welcomed a magnificent marine mammal—all 700 or so pounds of him—to a newly renovated sea lion habitat in the Oceanarium.

Cruz sits on the rocks with his nose held high in the Sea Lion habitat in the Oceanarium


When Cruz was about a year old and living in the waters off Santa Cruz, California, someone shot him—an illegal but not uncommon practice on the West Coast, where the numerous marine mammals are perceived as competitors by some commercial fishermen. The pup was found washed up on a beach, with gunshot wounds in his face and eyes.

His life was saved at The Marine Mammal Center in Sausalito, but the now totally blind pup needed a permanent home where he could receive lifelong care. Shedd was the perfect match, with the facilities, expert trainers and sea lion buddies for the youngster.

Using his whiskers and keen directional hearing, Cruz quickly learned his way around the sea lion areas, apparently mapping the topography in his head. Just as the pup adapted to his new surroundings, his trainers adapted their methods to work with a sightless animal. Instead of hand signals and other visual cues, they rely entirely on audible and tactile cues: a training whistle, a rattle target, a gentle touch and, of course, words. Cruz’s lack of vision hasn’t slowed him down, and the 6½-year-old interacts and holds his own with the other sea lions. He also takes part in one of the aquatic presentations each day.


Rescued and rehabilitated animals get a second chance at life. Laguna was lucky enough to get a third. On Jan. 9, 2013, he was found stranded and malnourished on Laguna Beach on the California coast. He was in the first wave of more than 1,400 starving sea lion pups that overwhelmed California rescue centers that year in what the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) called an unusual mortality event, or UME. Many pups died. But after intensive care, Laguna was healthy enough to be released March 21 with a bright orange flipper ID tag. Six weeks later, however, he had stranded again.

Sea lion Laguna sits mid-turn, tail curled around.

Because of the flipper tag, rescuers could see that the emaciated pup been rescued before, access his medical history and make the determination that he most likely would not survive if returned to the ocean again. During the UME, Shedd let the network of California rescue centers know that we could provide a home to a young male sea lion if one could not be released. Once Laguna had gone through rehabilitation again, he was on a jet bound for Chicago (see his arrival photo above). Despite a difficult start in life, Laguna is healthy, a quick learner and a mischievous playmate for Cruz.

—Karen Furnweger, web editor