Ode to an otter-this-world species
Otterly unbelievable. These puns are otter control -- I otter be ashamed of myself.
Is it a millennial cliche to love otters? A remnant of the “I can has cheezburger,” cuteoverload.com era of the internet’s obsession with adorable animals?
Well, if appreciating otters is passe (cringe, cheugy, whatever current insult applies), I don’t want – or need – to be cool.
The first time I saw a wild otter of any variety was when I lived in South Florida and went on an outing to Juno Dunes Natural Area with a small group of hiking friends. Juno Dunes is one of those incredible Palm Beach County natural areas that you always worry is just one backroom deal away from being ripped out of the public trust, drained, bulldozed, and turned into a golf course/pickleball court/car dealership/mattress store megaplex.
On this beautiful hike, we came across a small group of river otters frolicking in a marshy area, and stopped to watch them play. I was so enthralled that I failed to notice the sandy spot I was standing on was actually an ant hill. A fire ant hill, specifically. Still somewhat new to Florida, I didn’t really know about fire ants* before that day but, boy howdy, I learned.
The stings-turned-blistery-welts were painful, itchy and impressively long-lived, but worth it to see those otters! It’s a wildlife encounter I’ll never forget, in more ways than one. About a dozen years later, I finally saw another river otter (sans fire ants). This time, it was on the Clam River, a tributary of the Muskegon River in the northern half of Michigan’s lower peninsula.
You otter know about river otters
Sea otters and their little hand-holding, favorite-rock-having, mustachioed selves tend to net the majority of otter fanaticism, but the North American river otter is no slouch in the cute department**.
Ranging from 2.5 to 5 feet long, including the tail, these muscular, sleek powerhouses are known for their playful antics and disapproving, cat-like faces. The Smithsonian's National Zoo & Conservation Biology Institute credits the animal’s fish-filled diet for its “boundless energy” and says of its social structure:
While river otters tend to live alone or in pairs, they often socialize in groups and are known for their playful behavior. Their long, agile bodies enable them to quickly twist, turn, roll and dive, and they are frequently seen sliding or burrowing in the mud or snow. There is evidence that river otters' play activities strengthen social bonds, improve hunting techniques and scent mark territories. They spend a significant portion of the day scent marking territory by urinating, defecating, scratching and rubbing their scent glands on rocks and trees.
OK … kinda gross, but mostly charming!
This also seems a fitting time to say if you’re at all tempted to share some “fun facts” about how otters are murderous, sexual deviants – no need. I read that Vox article, too, and I’ve made peace with the reality that it’s not all underwater acrobatics and fluffy whiskers. And let’s be real: I’m not going to hold a wild animal to a higher behavioral or moral standard than that to which our national leaders are held, so … <shrug>.

Yeah, so, anyway, “(river otters) prefer unpolluted water with minimal human disturbance,” which means ecologists and other science-y folks often consider them an indicator species, or a “bioindicator.” An indicator species is an animal or plant that, by its presence (or absence), gives ecologists and conservationists insight into an ecosystem’s health.
For example, a species leaving an ecosystem may be a sign of an ecological threat, such as pollution, a rapid decline in food sources or habitat loss. A species returning to an ecosystem could indicate a balancing of resources or a successful restoration. Some other examples of indicator species are coral, Monarch butterflies and many types of owls.
Because river otters demand clean water, their presence is a sign of a river’s health. That’s why it’s so exciting to read of a biology doctorate student spotting a river otter in 2022 beneath the Ambassador Bridge in the Detroit River. According to Great Lakes Now, who reported on the sighting, river otters (and beavers) were plentiful in Southeast Michigan waterways before the arrival of European colonizers.
Like beavers, otters were in high demand during the fur trade, and were believed to be extirpated from the region around the early 1900s. The Detroit River and surrounding waterways remained unsuitable for the species through at least the mid-19th-century, thanks to heavy industrial and other pollution.
Conservationists have made efforts to reintroduce otters into “high-quality” waterways in the region since the late 1980s. The 2022 spotting in the Detroit River is a sign the water is once again clean enough to support the species.
The segment of the Clam River where I saw a river otter is a mostly undeveloped stretch, with a good variety of wetlands and mixed forest. In addition to seeing river otters, our group saw a nice mix of butterflies, fish, turtles (including a wood turtle; a state-threatened species) damselflies and birds, including a barred owl(!!!).
The prevalence of river otters — my husband saw four of them! — would seemingly indicate a stable ecosystem, in spite of the not-insignificant amount of trash pulled from the river by our group’s resident “Woodsy Owl.” (Thanks, Kurt, for getting those tires, plastic bottles and other junk out of there!)
The river otters we saw that day behaved as expected, much to our collective delight. They scampered along the banks, seemingly playing hide-and-seek and peekaboo with our kayaks as we paddled alongside them. The otter I watched moved fast, his short legs and webbed feet carrying him along the banks until he finally disappeared into a den.
If you are comfortable on the water and love interesting mammals, I recommend researching high-quality rivers known for river otter sightings. In Michigan, that typically means heading north, but as the Detroit River spotting a few years ago proves, their territory could be expanding. Either way, observing wildlife by kayak is a peaceful venture that can provide a new perspective and close views of a nice variety of birds, mammals and other wildlife.
See otters? Sea otters!
Speaking of getting out on the water, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the handful of times I’ve been fortunate enough to see sea otters in the wild. I type that all casually now, but, believe me, each time inspired a minor fit of happy hysterics.
The first wild sea otter I saw was a northern sea otter – the beefier of the two subspecies of sea otters living in the northern Pacific Ocean – off the Spit in Homer, Alaska. It was so far away as to almost be a mirage, but it was there.
Adam and I got a much closer look at otters later that same trip when we visited Seward for a half day wildlife boat excursion through Kenai Fjords Tours. In addition to orca, sea lions, harbor seals, humpback whales, puffins and murres, we saw sea otters, bobbing up and down on the waves, blissfully immune to my hyperventilating, enthusiastic gestures.
I wouldn’t see sea otters again until years later, when Adam and I traveled to California for an extended road trip that took us from Los Angeles to Point Reyes (just north of San Francisco) and back. In a trip that was filled with incredible experiences, a highlight came when we were driving on the highway, somewhere in the vicinity of Monterey, and I spontaneously exited to follow a sign for a random beach park. My hope was we might see something interesting from the shore. By some profound luck, we almost immediately spotted a feeding frenzy within easy binocular-viewing distance. Sea birds swarmed and dove over churning water as we watched, slack-jawed, as seals, sea lions, dolphins and whales hunted for lunch.
We spent a few days in the Monterey Bay area where we visited the world-famous aquarium, toured the 17-Mile Drive in Pebble Beach and enjoyed a leisurely coastal drive along California 1. Southern sea otters – in addition to sea lions, elephant seals and whales – made frequent appearances. And they were precious and perfect every single time.
Similar to their Mustelidae river otter cousins, sea otters have been pursued over centuries for their fur pelts. Hunted nearly to extinction, and having to contend with ongoing pollution (including oil spills) and other threats, sea otters remain a protected species. The scrappy little guys are doing their best to survive and thrive, with a substantial boost from the people and policies that work in tandem to protect them and their habitat.
Additionally, sea otters are considered a keystone species, meaning they play a critical role in ensuring the survival of their particular ecosystem – the kelp forest. A keystone species is one that has a profound impact on the biodiversity of its nature niche, particularly in relation to its population size.
Not only are sea otters among the cutest animals alive, but the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service counts the species as an “ecosystem hero” that is helping to combat the effects of climate change. Talk about enduring charisma!
*As an additional “eff you,” fire ants are an invasive species in Florida, and they’re believed to have contributed to the decline of the endemic, nearly-extinct, adorable Florida grasshopper sparrow. Here’s a story I wrote about that from my days as an environmental blogger for WLRN-FM, South Florida’s NPR affiliate.
**Evidently, I’ve held this specific otter belief for a decade-plus. In the course of writing this post, I came across a WLRN article I wrote in 2013 on cool Everglades animals: “Sea otters get all of the internet love, but Florida's own playful water-dwelling residents deserve a nod for their innovative work in the field of cute. Curious and gregarious, river otters can be found in lakes, rivers, streams and coastal marshes throughout the state, excluding the Keys.”
Resources and references:
https://myfwc.com/wildlifehabitats/profiles/birds/songbirds/florida-grasshopper-sparrow/
https://nationalzoo.si.edu/animals/north-american-river-otter
https://planetwild.com/blog/indicator-species
https://www.greatlakesnow.org/2022/04/river-otters-detroit-river/
https://www.fws.gov/story/2024-01/turtles-and-timber-michigan
https://www.mmc.gov/priority-topics/species-of-concern/southern-sea-otter/
https://www.montereybayaquarium.org/animals/animals-a-to-z/sea-otter
https://www.mmc.gov/priority-topics/species-of-concern/northern-sea-otters/
https://www.fws.gov/story/2022-09/sea-otters-are-unlikely-helpers-our-fight-against-climate-change