In a month that will see yet another sequel of the Jurassic Park franchise, this time around with a mammoth Mosasaurus making a startling debut as a big-wave surfer, here comes "Giants of Land and Sea," a new, semi-permanent show at the California Academy of Sciences. With a couple of notable exceptions, it doesn't quite live up to its title, the gee-whiz factor mostly a function of what you read and learn rather than what you can see. In fact, the informative exhibit has the vibe of a cautionary environmental science class, albeit one with buttons that light up and cool monitors to scroll through. While there's not as much visual wonderment as the little kid in you might crave, this experiential, interactive exhibit roams from Northern California's epic Old Growth Redwoods to the marvels of the Pacific Ocean, providing an educational diversion during this celebratory week. There's even an immersive fog room, along with an explanation of how fog is formed that seems geared toward tourists; locals know they can just step outside into Golden Gate Park on an average day and be enveloped in the real thing. Among the exhibition's surprises are the good deeds of the otter, whose skeleton is featured in a display that recasts the adorable mammals as saviors of an ailing planet. They protect kelp from the ravenous appetites of marauding urchins capable of devouring entire kelp forests, which capture carbon from the atmosphere.
Staring down from a wall is a slightly creepy collection of 420 numbered seal lion skulls, accompanied by a monitor that answers questions about what led to their demise; for sea lions there are many ways to go, none of them pretty, from gunshot wounds and fatal encounters with fish nets to shark attacks.
A network of exhibits concentrates on the giant redwoods that only grow along a narrow stretch of the Northern California coastline, where climate conditions are conducive for nurturing these amazing specimens. A mere 5% of old growth forests survive, a sorry statistic resulting from aggressive logging dating back to the Gold Rush. An awesome, 8,500-lb. cross-section of an ancient redwood taken from 150 feet up a tree, felled by a storm last year, was airlifted by helicopter from Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park and installed in the museum. A sample from the base wouldn't have fit into the building. The tree is said to have established itself around the year 1200; if only it could talk. In a way, it can. Scientists have examined the rings - a new one is added each year - which reveal the tree's history, including its chemical make-up and the impact of stress, sunlight, drought and rainfall going back 1,000 years. Who needs Scheherazade?
A darkened, partially enclosed booth offers an opportunity to virtually "ascend" those great coastal redwoods. The tallest trees on earth, they can achieve a height of 380 feet, weigh on average a half-million pounds, and produce 2,000 pounds of new wood each year. By pushing a button, visitors can select from a series of short, narrated videos. If you opt to hang out on the top of a tree, and share a view previously reserved for the Gods, be prepared for a brief spell of vertigo as the camera pans skyward.
A major portion of the show's real estate is dedicated to the ocean: the tectonic plates shifting beneath the surface, its delicately balanced ecosystems imperiled by pollution and population growth, and its extraordinary denizens. A gigantic, 87-foot-long blue whale skeleton, whose massive size never fails to inspire wonder, is suspended from the ceiling. This, the largest animal on earth, driven to the verge of extinction by the ravages of commercial whaling, and still endangered, is a reminder of who's really the biggest kid on the block. We're told whales, which have hair, breathe air, nurse their young and are probably as or more intelligent than we are, all descended from the same hippopotamus-like ancestor. They may have lost the hind legs, but they retained tiny hips that you're hereby dared to locate on that skeleton. If you're into forensics, you can follow a whale's biography through its earwax and teeth. The monster Humpback's trademarks are acrobatic leaps out of the water, and wing-like flippers; while the sperm whale - immense jawbones from a carcass are on view - dives to depths of over 1,000 meters. Whales are a breathtaking species, literally and figuratively, but warming ocean temps threaten their future and the survival of other forms of sea life.
Back on land, humans contend with disasters beyond their control, the ground literally shifting beneath their feet. Therefore, it might be advisable to save the best - make that the most terrifying - for last. That would be the new and improved Shake House. After a brief introduction to the earth's tectonic plates and factoids on memorable local temblors, visitors enter a space decorated like a living room, where they experience petrifying simulations of both the 6.9 jolt of 1989, and the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. The latter, an estimated 7.9 magnitude shaker, lasted 90 seconds; though the re-creation lasts a third of that time, it feels like an eternity. As sound effects ratchet up the no-place-to-run, no-place-to-hide fear meter, you'll find yourself clutching the thoughtfully placed handrails for dear life.
Ongoing: www.calacademy.org