The People: A brief sketch of a sentient aquatic species

[Glenn]

I apologize in advance for the length of what follows. I posted a (slightly different) version of this this information on the CBB at the end of last year (in this thread), but I am afraid that I have done little with it since, although I hope to pick it up again. At the time, I intended to post in on the ZBB as well; I did not do so then, but I decided to do so now, on the off chance that someone might find it interesting. I should note in advance that this is a bit of conworlding (and, to some extent, conbiology), but not specifically of conlanging.

I began listening last year to the podcast Exolore, hosted by Moiya McTier. [EDIT: The podcast was started in April 2020; as of September 2024, it appears to have ended, at least for now. At the moment, I am still working my way through their back catalog.] In most episodes, McTier and one or more guests take a starting premise and engage in an hour of ad hoc worldbuilding; the results are necessarily superficial, but they sometimes come up with intriguing ideas, and, at least in the early episodes, they encouraged listeners to take their ideas and develop them on their own. Later episodes also included discussion of conworlds from published properties (books, movies, TV shows) and interviews with experts on various conworlding-related topics; while conlangs were not generally a focus, there was one episode on conlanging featuring an interview with Jessie Sams.

I was inspired to try to write a story based on one of the first Exolore episodes, "World of Dancing Seals," featuring an Earthlike planet with a more strongly elliptical orbit resulting in greater seasonal variation in heat and light, inhabited by an intelligent aquatic species resembling seals. I am using the world created by the podcast participants as my starting point, while feeling free to make changes and add details of my own. If I were to actually finish the story and it came out OK, I was intending to share it with the podcast community.

There is, at least as of yet, no local name for this species, or of the community that forms the setting of the story, so I will simply refer to them as “the People,” which is how I suspect that they would refer to themselves.

The People are an amphibious, but primarily water-dwelling species, adapted to living in the coastal waters of the continental shelf and offshore islands. They are seal-like in appearance, air-breathing and essentially mammalian, with streamlined bodies well-suited for swimming and diving, covered with a layer of insulating blubber and a coat of sleek fur. Their fur comes in a range of colors that vary depending on the population and individual, but are mostly in shades of gray and brown. Males and females are similar in size and appearance. Unlike seals, they are six-limbed creatures, with two pairs of flippers, front and back, used for swimming, and a third pair of manipulating limbs near the front flippers that serve as arms and hands, permitting them to carry objects and make tools. When not in use, the arms are normally tucked against the body while swimming, so as not to interfere with the movement of the flippers. (My wife suggested that the arms could be either tucked into a pouch on the body when not in use, or pressed against the front flippers. I was initially leaning toward the latter solution, but the former is also possible, or the arms could simply be tucked against the chest; any thoughts?) They have large eyes, well-adapted to seeing in dim light, either above or below the water, ears likewise adapted to detect sound in both environments, and a muzzle with whiskers that can be used either to detect objects by touch, or to sense the movements of water currents. They have a decent sense of smell in air, but do not make use of it under water, as they keep their nostrils sealed while swimming.

I have devoted some thought to their locomotion, especially while swimming, compared to Earthly pinnipeds. On Earth, sea lions and fur seals propel themselves through the water with their front flippers, using their rear flippers as stabilizers; on land, they can use all four flippers to walk, albeit with difficulty. “True” seals, on the other hand, propel themselves using their rear flippers and lower body, using their front flippers to steer; they are unable to stand on land, and move instead by sliding or bumping along on their stomachs, in some cases pulling themselves with their foreflippers. Walruses combine elements of the other two groups: they propel themselves in the water using their hind flippers, but walk on all four flippers on land. I knew that I wanted the People to be able to move around on land, as they collect resources from the shoreline and coastal areas near the sea, so they can definitely “walk” on their flippers. I had wanted them to propel themselves in the water using their hind flippers, like true seals, but now think that a sea lion-like locomotion using the front flippers may work better.

I have not thought deeply about their language (since the story will be from the point of view of one of the People, any dialogue will be rendered in English). They have spoken languages that they use to communicate, which probably sound to humans like barking and growling (perhaps similar phonologically to the conlang Commonthroat), as well as gestures and sign language; the latter are often used for communication between groups that do not share a common spoken language. Below the water, they may use sound for signaling, as well as body language and other actions such as blowing bubbles. They do not, as far as I am aware, have any writing systems, but some groups make use of visual symbols and symbolic objects.

The bulk of their diet consists of fish and shellfish, but I think that they may be at least partially omnivorous, consuming certain species of seaweed and marine vegetation, as well as some edible plants and fruits gathered on land. I do not think that they practice agriculture (or aquaculture) as such, but they follow the movements of schools of fish, catching them by hand (or rather, tooth) or with nets and traps, and they shape the sea bottom in coastal environments to promote the habitat of desirable food species. (One of the podcast guests raised the idea of their transplanting coral that have a symbiotic relationship with the fish to be harvested; I think that they may have been thinking about something similar to the relationship between anemones and clownfish.) I am doubtful about the prospect of animal domestication, although I did have the idea of their taming other marine mammals; the idea of semi-trained schools of dolphins (or dolphin equivalents) used for hunting and transportation is tempting, but probably a step too far (jumping the non-shark, so to speak).

Their material technology is relatively simple; they make tools of stone, bone, and shell (and perhaps wood on land), make ropes, nets, and holding bags from a strong species of kelp, and weave baskets from the stems and branches of land plants. (I am not sure whether they make use of animal hides and/or fish skins; I am fairly sure that they have little or no knowledge of fire.) The pod of the People (community, or tribe) that I am focusing on makes their homes in a network of caves in the seaside cliffs, each cave or portion of a cave occupied by an individual or family group. They are better adapted to the cold season, which occupies the better part of the year, when their planet is farther from the sun in its elliptical orbit, than during the shorter hot season (“suntime”), when the temperature increases dramatically and the sun is much brighter. During this time, the People spend less time on shore and seek shelter in the deeper caves, and/or migrate to colder latitudes. They decorate their caves with bioluminescent organisms (which also provide light), kelp, and attractive rocks and shells; during suntime, they also gather flowers and herbs on land, which they bring to their caves and replace periodically. The males of the pod decorate and furnish their caves in the hope of attracting a mate (this idea was inspired on the podcast by bowerbirds, where the males decorate a “bower” to attract a mate). If a couple mates and bears a pup, the cave serves as home to the family until the pup is weaned.

In terms of ergonomics, the People’s default posture on land is lying on their stomach, with the foremost portion of the body raised in order to use their hands. (I am not certain how upright this portion is; I had not pictured them as seal-centaurs, but I want them to be able to make and use tools relatively easily.) When working, they use the ground or an object such as a large, flat rock as a level work surface. In their caves, they make oblong piles of seaweed or other plant material to cushion their bodies and serve as beds or sofas. For loads too large to carry in their hands, they weave baskets and bags with a strap looped around their neck or torso, which they carry on their backs; smaller loads may be carried against their chests or on their shoulders. (For even larger loads, they can work together to move large objects or carry things in groups, although I am still trying to picture the details; at least on land, they may make use of levers and/or rollers. One image that came to mind is that of a number of the People using their hands to carry a long pole between them, perhaps with other loads attached, while using their flippers to walk and/or swim, although this does not seem particularly practical; I clearly need to think more about what kind of tools the People use, and how they use them.)

Once again, I apologize for the length of this post; however I found writing (and now reviewing) it to be helpful in terms of setting out my thoughts, and I hope that some people find it interesting.

[Raphael]

Cool! (Or hot, during suntime.) More conworlding than conlanging is right up my alley. I like the keep-arms-in-pouches idea. They sound really interesting!

[Lērisama]

Raphael said all the things I was going to, so just pretend I said them to please. It does sound really interesting.