To Sea Is to Joyously Believe : San Pedro’s Cabrillo Marine Museum Offers Children Chance to Enter Aquatic Wonderland

Wide-eyed and full of wonder, the children filed into the world of whales and sharks, of flatfish and fat fish, fish that fly and fish that illuminate the deep, dark world around them, as one second-grader pointed out, “so they can see.”

Granted, this particular world is confined to the walls and aquariums of the Cabrillo Marine Museum in San Pedro, but what better place for children to learn about the crabs and eels and urchins--and practically anything else that lives in the saltwater environment of Southern California?

Cabrillo Marine Museum, although it attracts visitors of all ages, is the place for schoolchildren. At least it is between 10 a.m. and noon, when it opens to the public.

As many as 1,000 young visitors pass through the museum each morning, marveling at shark models that hang from the ceiling, and at real sharks, very much alive, lurking in caverns in large aquariums.

They wonder at the touch of tiny starfish, or sea star as they come to know the creature, which isn’t a fish at all.

They dab so carefully at the sea urchins, those “circle things with the stickers,” to use the words of one kindergartner.

They seem almost mesmerized by the wave machine, made to resemble Southern California’s near-shore habitat. A second-grader said it was “neat how it almost knocked one of the pets (crabs) off the rocks.”

Those who come from the inner city and rarely--if ever--visit the beach are captivated not only by the creatures of the sea, but also by the wet sand of the beach, which one kindergartner found to be “so smoooooth. “

Visitors to the Cabrillo Marine Museum, a nonprofit attraction in the park-like atmosphere up from the sand at Cabrillo Beach, come from the affluent schools of the coastal communities as well as those at the other end of the financial spectrum, deep in the heart of the city.

So many teachers are interested in offering this field trip--in large part because it is free--that there is a waiting list of 150 schools.

“Unfortunately, when we open up for bookings in September we usually fill for the whole year within a week,” said Larry Fukuhara, program director at the museum, which is financed largely by the Los Angeles Department of Recreation and Parks.

Vikki Thoren, a kindergarten teacher for the last eight years at 95th St. School in South Central Los Angeles, has been applying every year. Her application was finally accepted this year.

When she told her students, they “went out of their minds, they were so crazy,” she said. “Every day they kept saying, ‘Is it today?’

“On the bus on the way over--they’re just barely at eye level of the window so I see them--they’re like this, (peeking) out the window.”

Most of these children have never been to the beach, and many might never have gone, had not this field trip been arranged.

This field trip allowed the children to discover a world where a sea breeze blows gently in the face. Where the soothing clamor of masts and the saltwater mist offer a stark contrast to eye-burning smog, speeding cars and gunfire.

Thoren brought her students early, “because I wanted them to play on sand, to build castles,” she said. “I told them I wanted them to take their socks and shoes off because I figured a lot of them have never walked in the sand.”

She was right.

Jonathan Carter, a 6-year-old kindergartner from the 95th St. school, wasn’t exactly a stranger to the beach. He had been once, “when I was just a kid.”

But he didn’t remember much, only that he couldn’t understand why his parents wouldn’t let him swim.

“It was a long time ago,” he reminded his classmates.

Monica Hyde, a classmate of Carter, had never been to the beach or on the sand, nor had she seen any of the creatures she was able to learn about during her tour of the museum.

“I liked the sharks because they have the teeth,” she said. “You know, the teeth that when they come out, the back ones come in to take the other teeths’ place?”

Raven McBride, another 95th St. kindergartner, liked the sharks, too.

“They’re so scary, that’s why,” she said.

In the museum’s “touch tank” she carefully reached down and touched a sea star, then looked up and said, “It feels so hard and bumpy.”

She also liked the small waves that crashed up on the beach in the morning before the tour.

“The first time, they scared me and I jumped up,” she said.

Iquina Crawford, another student at the 95th St. School, gently touched a spiny sea urchin, then quickly pulled back.

“They’re sharp,” she said.

So are the minds of children, whose inquisitiveness never ceases to amaze the volunteer docents who give tours to a dozen or so students at a time.

Robert Weiss, or Doctor Bob, as he introduces himself to his groups, started a recent day giving a tour to a group of second-graders from Perry Elementary School of Huntington Beach.

A retired pediatrician, Weiss is used to dealing with children. So why would he label them apples to keep track of them?

“Usually they don’t mind,” he said.

But these second-graders did.

“We want to be sharks!” insisted Brandon Meyer, Perry’s most curious student.

Weiss gave in and brought the young sharks into a dark chamber of the museum, where on display were creatures from such depths that there is no light other than what they are able to produce.

“How many of you can name an animal that can make its own light?” Weiss asked.

“A firefly,” Meyer quickly responded.

Weiss then asked why an animal might want to make its own light

“So they can see,” Meyer offered.

Weiss then pointed to a flashlight fish and explained how when it opens a small pouch under its eye, a light flashes.

“How many of you had your picture taken with flash camera, and what happens right after the flash goes off?” he asked.

“It takes your picture,” was the unanimous response.

Weiss laughed and reminded the children of the blinding effect of the flash and told them that the flashlight fish utilizes its flash to escape larger fish.

Throughout the museum, Weiss led and the children followed, their heads turning to watch moray eels swimming gracefully, staring in awe at the fierce-looking replica of a large great white shark hanging from the ceiling.

They were fascinated by the colorful array of creatures there for the touching in the tidal pool “touch tank.”

Weiss picked up a bright-orange sea star and asked the bravest shark to step forward. Brandon Meyer promptly did so, only to wonder if he hadn’t been too bold when Weiss held the sea star less than an inch above Brandon’s head to show the class how the creature uses hundreds of tiny pincers to grab things.

The pincers latched onto Meyer’s hair. His eyes rolled upward and his lips trembled as Weiss lifted the sea star from his head, taking with it a few hairs before letting go. The class applauded as Weiss placed the sea star back into the tank.

Brandon Meyer, on this day anyway, had been a star pupil.