When it opened with great fanfare in 1954, a year ahead of Walt Disney's fabled theme park in nearby Anaheim, Marineland of the Pacific on the Palos Verdes Peninsula south of Los Angeles was billed as the "largest oceanarium in the world." To this day, many regard it as California's first family theme park.

More relevant to Polly Dunham of Pinehurst, it's where, late one spring morning, she met and fell for an orphaned baby walrus named Georgie Girl.

Crowds of school kids and tourists used to pack Marineland's nautical arenas to watch the park's famous performing orcas, a pair of killer whales named "Orky and Corky." More adventuresome guests swam through an innovative Baja reef aquarium filled with playful dolphins and a variety of marine life, or got up close and personal with frisky sea lions, harbor seals and a gentle pilot whale named Bubbles. They also met Lenny the Lobster and learned all about ocean life from well-trained volunteers and guides.

"It's something new," went a popular jingle promoting the park. "Let a whale touch you."

Beyond its pure entertainment value for the park, which attracted thousands of visitors a week, marine biologists used the facility for advanced oceanographic research and animal rescue.

The Navy tested sonar there, and perhaps a dozen TV shows and movies -- ranging from "Sea Hunt" to "Pearl Harbor" -- were filmed on the dramatic headlands where the park resided. The spot provided visitors a stunning view of Catalina Island, the Santa Monica Mountains and nearby Long Beach.

Most Marineland visitors were attracted to the sea lions and dolphins. But Georgie Girl had Polly Dunham's heart.

Polly had been working as a volunteer guide for six months in 1983, when an orphaned baby walrus arrived on a flight from the Anchorage Zoo.

"I was leading a group of kids through the holding tanks and was one of the first to see her," Polly remembers. "She was a little gray blob of a thing covered with marine lice, with two of the bluest eyes you've ever seen."

Polly learned that Georgie Girl had been rescued from an ice floe after her mother died. Walruses produce single calves that typically stay with their mothers for up to two years.

"I was one of the volunteers who mixed her formula for bottle-feeding," Polly says. "It was cream, yogurt, vitamins and fish. It smelled and looked awful. But Georgie Girl loved it. She would really take that bottle. Every day."

'Almost a Calling'

When she wasn't leading tours, Polly, who grew up near Ocean City, N.J., and always felt a powerful kinship to the sea, stopped by the tank to see the growing baby walrus.

"She would swim over to see me and come up out of the water with her big blue eyes shining -- and then spit water at me," Polly relates with a laugh. "She would speak to you, come right up into your face and make a sound like 'Boof' -- that was her way of saying hello. She would do this to kids, too. They thought it was hysterically funny.

"There was definitely something special between us. I saw Georgie every morning when I arrived and often before I left for the day. The trainers and other volunteers used to comment on how Georgie seemed to know me. Maybe that was because I was a mother, too."

Polly's work at Marineland of the Pacific came at a nice moment in her life. She and her husband, Al, were empty-nesters. Both their children, Tom and Sherry, had left home and started families of their own. Sherry often brought her young children to Marineland to see the animals, particularly Georgie Girl.

Sherry, a talented artist, surprised her mother with a sculpture of the walrus that captured every distinctive feature of the sea creature down to her silk whiskers and bright blue eyes.

"It was unmistakably Georgie Girl," Polly says. "Sherry captured her perfectly."

On her own, Polly did research on marine life -- particular on the walrus, of which she found shockingly scant information -- and began visiting local schools and church and civic organizations to give talks about the importance of marine life.

"The people and volunteers who worked at Marineland of the Pacific were like a great big family," she says. "We were unpaid and happy as clams. I used to go in an hour early just to be with the animals and leave an hour late. Others did the same thing. Everyone cared about the welfare of the animals, the keepers and trainers and the volunteers. The more visitors could learn about ocean life, we all passionately believed, the better things would be for all of us. That was the attitude. It wasn't just a job. It was almost a calling."

For a time, Polly also authored the facility's monthly newsletter, "Marvelous Moments at Marineland." When one of the other volunteers wrote a children's book about Bubbles the pilot whale, Polly began to think about doing her own book on Georgie Girl.

When the End Came

It was the little things at first that told Polly Dunham that the end of Marineland of the Pacific might be approaching.

"Maintenance suddenly went lacking, and little things didn't get done that would always have been before," she says. "The new volunteers also weren't quite the same. The younger gals all wore miniskirts and makeup. It wasn't really as much about the animals. The handwriting was on the wall."

After a spectacular 32-year run, Marineland was sold in late 1986 to the owners of SeaWorld Ocean Park in San Diego. When its famous killer whales and other beloved creatures were shipped off to SeaWorld, strong protests broke out on the Palos Verde Peninsula.

"Human chains were formed. There were letter-writing campaigns and a strong public outcry, to little avail," Polly remembers. "The new owners soon closed down the park but promised that would only be temporary -- that it would soon be refurbished and reopened. But it never happened."

She doesn't remember her last day at Marineland. She "retired" before the place shut its door for good.

"I hated having to say goodbye to the animals, especially Georgie Girl," she says. "I don't even remember my last day. Like everyone, I was just so sad and unhappy to see it end. To golfers, it would be comparable to having Pinehurst No. 2 suddenly close down."

Memories Live On

For years -- decades, in fact -- the performing arenas and holding tanks of Marineland sat forlornly empty. Then, little by little, crews began to disassemble the once beloved park -- traces of which are still visible today on its gorgeous headland above the Pacific. The signature entrance sign, an upturned whale's tale, reportedly still stands, announcing a landmark pop icon, a forgotten ruin.

Recently, a development company announced plans to build an upscale resort and golf course on the site.

Polly and Al moved to Pinehurst in 1993. One morning not long after they arrived, she happened to see Brad Andrews on the "Today" show discussing the controversy around "Free Willy," the famous killer whale of movie fame. Andrews had been the curator of mammals at Marineland of the Pacific.

"Brad and I had been friends at Marineland, and now he was down in Orlando at SeaWorld," she says. "So I found his number and called him up. I just had to know what happened to Georgie Girl."

"She's here in Orlando," Andrews told her. "Polly, please come down."

So she did. "I went down to SeaWorld in Orlando," she says, "and there she was -- now 10 years old and an expectant mother, about to give birth."

The enthusiastic way Georgie Girl swam over and greeted Polly made the animal's new keepers decide the 2,000-pound sea creature remembered her.

"She still made her wonderful sound and she still had those beautiful blue eyes," Polly says. "I can't say for sure if she remembered me. But it certainly did me a lot of good just to see her again. There was the little gray blob I'd first met, all grown up and now about to be a mother herself."

Over the next few years, Polly Dunham and Brad Andrews exchanged Christmas cards. In one of them, the curator wrote to say that Georgie Girl the walrus had passed away. The average life expectancy of an arctic walrus is 40-50 years. She never learned if the pup survived.

On the Internet, Marineland of the Pacific lives on in a host of photographic and video tributes and personal blogs by fans who still grieve the loss of California's iconic theme park. A continent away, the beautiful sculpture of Georgie Girl sits in a prominent place in the Bretton Woods den of Polly and Al, living on in Polly Dunham's heart.

Contact Jim Dodson by e-mail at jasdodson@thepilot.com.