CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE AQUARIUM KIND.

Byline: Theo Douglas Staff Writer

THE LATEST ANIMAL ENCOUNTER program at Long Beach's Aquarium of the Pacific is perhaps the worthiest of its kind to bear that title since the Aquarium opened in 1998. It's everything the name implies. Think of it as what your eighth-grade science class could have been if you'd had the coolest teacher -- and absolutely no tests.

``Every time you go to (an aquarium), you think it would be so great to feed or touch them,'' says Northridge attorney Dave King. He and his wife, Corinne, and this reporter, made up a recent Saturday's entire Animal Encounter safari.

The behind-the-scenes tour, which can accommodate up to five people plus handlers, costs $75, but as the Kings stride purposefully under the life-size blue whale replica suspended over the main entry hall, they are hopeful its unique itinerary will outweigh its hefty price tag.

``This is a big one for her,'' says Dave King, whose wife is something of an aquarium connoisseur.

Says Corinne King: ``I've made Dave take me to every other aquarium except this one.'' Actually, she's been here once for a dinner, but this is their first nose-to-nose experience with some of the Aquarium's residents.

``We are going to be feeding some tide-pool animals, like (sea) urchins, our small two-spotted octopus, and then upstairs, 2,000 tropical fish,'' explains the day's unofficial docent, education specialist Tracy Williams. The fish, which whirl around their tank like carousel horses, are fed in a group, she explains. ``It won't take too long. We scatter-feed.'' But that's later. First up are the sea urchins and sea stars -- kelp eaters, which dwell in a tucked-away tide-pool exhibit that's also available for kids' birthday parties.

``Oh, how cute is this?'' Dave King exclaims when he sees the brightly colored room. ``What a great spot this is for a birthday party.'' Everyone in the group gets a chilly sheet of kelp. They tear off pieces to poke under a sea urchin; it's how the creatures eat, Williams says.

``I have ice in here, because when the kelp gets warm, it gets real gooey,'' she says, skillfully stopping a tiny, foot-and-a-half-long horned shark so it can be gingerly petted. Stroked lengthwise, its leathery skin is rough but almost velvety to the touch.

After each urchin is fed, slowly encompassing a square of kelp - at a glacial speed - it's time to meet the octopus.

``This is Lucky,'' Williams says, showing off the creature that comes out from behind her aquarium's aeration tube at the sight of shrimp in a Tupperware container. ``She was brought to us by chance when we found her on the side of the road. Someone called to tell us she was there.''

Octopuses, she continues, are supposed to be the smartest invertebrates in the world: ``We have taught her to open baby-food jars.'' But for now, Lucky is to be fed a piece of shrimp by each member of the group.

Place your hand in the tank and wait till one wet tentacle finds your arm, then let go of the shrimp, Williams explains.

``You have to do this,'' Corinne King tells her husband as a tentacle winds around her hand. ``It feels so weird.''

Then it's my turn: One fumble later, the shrimp spirals to the bottom of the aquarium. Lucky will find it later, I muse, but for now, she sends up two more of her eight arms to probe my hand, fastening suction cups tightly.

``Just pull away,'' Williams says. This is much easier said than done. Prying loose her suction cups (it doesn't hurt), I find tiny red spots have appear in half a dozen places on my hand. And Lucky finds her shrimp.

``That's interesting. I mean, why would she be more interested in us than in the food?'' Dave King asks Williams.

``She gets a lot of stimulation from doing things,'' Williams explains, dropping a baby-food jar filled with water and a shrimp into Lucky's space. ``If she doesn't get a lot of attention one day, then the next day we find that she will want to be touched.''

And so it goes: Part science lecture, part informational walk-through, part adventure. The tour's high point is, understandably, a meeting with Miller, one of the aquarium's largest male sea lions. Miller weighs 680 pounds and, this being mating season, he's engaged in bulking up to around 800 pounds. A gregarious fellow, he's a prime example of how institutions like the Aquarium display animals and let them show off in gentle ways that don't hurt them.

``Most of the Aquarium is designed to actually help us take care of the animals,'' says mammalogist Rob Mortenson, who brings out Miller for a tasty snack of perch, squid and herring. ``And some of it is designed to stimulate the animals because there are things they like to do.''

In Miller's case, he's something of a performer.

``He used to be kind of a show animal at another aquarium, and he's now living out his retirement,'' Williams says. ``He knows so much. He's used to people, he's used to the attention.''

On this particular day, however, Miller's conflicted: He loves to eat; he likes to perform -- but it's mating season, for crying out loud. His appearance is brief but eventful.

Mortenson opens a door thick enough to contain King Kong, guides Miller out, and hands Corinne King a tasty herring. Standing next to a sea lion the size of an early Honda Civic, she holds up the herring. He opens his mouth, she releases, and it slides down quickly. Then Miller gets a nice squid reward, and Mortenson catches his eye, extending a hand. The sea lion immediately lets out a loud bark.

Then, for one of his tricks. King feeds him another fish, and Mortenson shows her what to do. She waves her hand and says to the sea lion, ``Big wave.'' Miller cooperates, flailing one immense flipper as if to say ``hi.''

Then, abruptly, he turns and waddles off. Does anyone stop him? Well, no. You can't really stop a nearly half-ton sea lion; all you can do is try to guide him back to the water, which Mortenson does. The show is cut short - but Miller has made his mark.

``I've never had an experience like this,'' Corinne King says. ``There's just no way to quite describe it.''

ANIMAL ENCOUNTER PROGRAM

Where: Aquarium of the Pacific, 100 Aquarium Way, Long Beach

When: Weekends (tour start times vary)

How much: $75 per person; $65 for aquarium members. Children participating must be at least 10 years old.

Information: [phone] or online at www.aquariumofpacific.org

CAPTION(S):

5 photos

Photo:

(1 -- cover -- color) PLEASE FEED the ANIMALS

New tour at the Aquarium of the Pacific invites you to touch, feel and get close to the creatures of the sea

(2 -- 3 -- color) Corinne King of Northridge feeds a stingray at the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach. At right, Miller, a 680-pound sea lion, is one of the stops on the Animal Encounter tour.

(4 -- color) This bat star is one the Aquarium inhabitants that's on the receiving end of the touching and feeling of the Animal Encounter program.

(5 -- color) Participants in the Animal Encounter program at the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach help sort the good fish from the bad prior to feeding the sea lions.