Standing on the banks of the Columbia River is invigorating on this early spring day with the sky a soft, gentle blue. A chilling breeze flows down from the gorge causing small whitecaps to shiver across the water as the waxing tide runs swiftly out to sea.

Fifty feet from shore two large sea lions frolic. Repeatedly, their sleek, black bodies briefly break the surface, one after the other, before disappearing as they dive into the deep waters.

Suddenly, a thrashing disturbance draws the eye. A sea lion, with a sizable silver salmon clamped vice-like in its jaws, shakes it violently. The struggling fish flies free and swims beneath the surface. Smoothly, the sea lion follows.

Again the water erupts. The salmon is ravaged in the sea lion’s vicious mouth. A tinge of pink colors the fish as it is tossed aside.

Quickly, the sea lion submerges, and then surfaces a third time with its hungry maw locked on the ill-fated fish. With a savage swing of its head the sea lion rips away the last tasty morsel of its meal. Clearly visible to the naked eye is the red of the gaping wound in the salmon’s underbelly that is no more.

The carcass of the salmon sinks into the cold blue of the Columbia. Shivering whitecaps ripple across the water. The sleek, black bodies of two sea lions gracefully break the surface before disappearing, one after the other, into the depths to continue their hunt in the ever flowing river.