Nautical Wheelers... Pelagic Gooseneck Barnacles

I found these travelers on Grayton Beach this summer, during a short trip west.

Their vessel, a short piece of driftwood actually bonked me in the back of the head as I was body surfing some pretty lackluster panhandle waves.
The crew onboard the USS Flotsam, are Pelagic Gooseneck Barnacles, or Lepas anatifera.

Barnacles whether goosenecky or volcano-shaped are "sessile" organisms, which just means they are unable to move about on their own.
Most sessile critters live an attached life and filter feed on the abundant plankton in the ocean.
Barnacles use their modified legs called "cirri" to capture food, while other sessile animals you may be familiar with use tentacles (corals and anemones) or pumps (oysters and mussels).
You can see the cirri extending out of the gooseneck on the left side of the photo above.

Barnacle larvae spend a short time as plankton before finding a suitable substrate like this bit of wood. Once a substrate is found, they glue their heads to it, form their protective cover and kick food into their mouths with their legs (cirri).

I love acting this out in my Marine Science classes when we get to barnacles.

Barnacles are hermaphrodites and begin reproducing at a very young age. This makes pretty good survival sense for organisms who can't swim or crawl around looking for mates.
If I remember correctly, some barnacles have the longest penis in the animal kingdom ... in a size of organ to body ratio. This again is an adaptation to being sessile ... you may have to reach out pretty far to connect with the nearest receptive barnacle.

With their nonCrustaceany appearance, you may not have realized that barnacles are really close cousins to crabs, shrimp, and lobsters. The larger species are eaten and taste like lobster ... no personal experience here, just an observation from watching "Bizarre Foods".

I tossed their ship out into the Gulf several times, but a stiff onshore breeze returned it over and over. 

This is where I last saw them, riding a strong longshore current to the East.

PIPEFISH BABIES... NANOCUTENESS

 During the Seahorse Key Coastal Ecosystems Camp, we seined the seagrass many times and pipefish were a common catch.

Long and slender, like a seahorse stretched to its limits, the pipefish is wonderfully adapted to life in the undersea pastures of the  Big Bend Seagrass National Marine Preserve.

Don't be fooled by their "seahorsian" faces, they are voracious predators of all things tasty and tiny in the seagrass.

In the grass, they cling to the blades, and gently sway as the grass does, becoming, for all intents and purposes, just another blade of grass.

... Until tiny fish larvae, or other minuscule things swim close and then they strike with amazing speed.

If  amazing camo, body shape, and great predator skills were all pipefish had, ... that would be awesome enough, 

but  wait ...

This is an adult MALE pipefish with a couple hundred newborn "pipelings" that he has just birthed after being placed in the bucket.


If you are familiar with his close relative the seahorse, you already know that males of these two similar fish species carry the eggs in a ventral pouch until they hatch.


He's not really pregnant, the female produced the eggs, he's just incubating them in a relatively safe place.


During their courtship entanglement, the female laid her eggs in a groove near the pouch where they were fertilized and then sealed inside.

The evolutionary advantage in this strategy is that while he's incubating the current clutch of eggs, the female can get busy producing the next set.

This way, A LOT of baby pipefish enter the dangerous world of the ocean, increasing the odds that at least some of them will reach adulthood.

A tiny 2 day old pipefish.

Nanoperfection.



The adult and his young charges were all released after everyone in the camp had a chance to "ooh" and "awe" over them.

There was a lot of that.

I didn't "ooh", but I'm pretty sure I "awed".

Seahorse Key Coastal Ecology Camp 2015 Seine Netting

I've been home from a week on Seahorse Key for a few days now. 

I've had a hot shower or two, walked my woods without being devoured by saltmarsh mosquitoes and noseeums, eaten food with spice, rejoiced in unlimited ice cubes in my cup, wrestled my dogs, soaked up some A/C while avoiding the sun, and generally readjusted to off island life.

So now it's time to share a few things.

A tiny sample of a shore seine net haul by the campers. The silvery white fish are mojarra, the golden one is a leather jacket, the long bodied flashy one on the left is a silverside.
The science campers seined first for the sheer wonder of it and to hone their skills, and then later some teams used the seine in their team research projects.

There was an incredible hatch of horseshoe crabs visible in the clear waters on the outside of Seahorse Key. The one in this photo is HUGE compared to the majority of them.
Look at your own index fingernail ... the bottom was covered with beaucoup horseshoe crablings that would barely cover your fingernail.

Running off memory here, without looking it up, but I think this is a crown conch egg case ... I know it's not lightning whelk or tulip.

A young seahorse ... note the finger for size reference. The seagrass beds and algae are full of juveniles of all kind of species, some really flashy, and some easy to miss.
In my experience, the the teen girls on a marine science field trip are way better at finding seahorses than the teen boys.
That held true on this trip also.
It's a patience thing.

Depending on the species, this little guy could be 6 inches and bright orange as a mature stallion.

Most of the things we captured were immediately released as there is a lot of redundancy, but individual specimens were bucketed to the awesome holding tank tables that the University of Florida has constructed at the lab on Seahorse.

The touch tables are large, but even so, they present boundaries to animals who have never really known any so at first, the captives are a little freaked out.
After an hour or so, they become accustomed to their new surroundings and revert back to normal behavior, like eating your neighbor.
In the picture above, the tulip snail is eating the only live scallop in the touch tanks.

A few of the girls were picking through some oyster clumps that they had placed in a touch tank and they found this.
It's a tiny clutch of eggs. The entire mass is the size of a pinky fingernail ... a dime would cover it.
I'm not sure what laid these eggs ... a lot of species both verts and inverts inhabit the oyster reefs.

Here's a silverside with the seine net mesh in the background. We stressed "Fish first! Fish first!" to the kids as each seine haul came up onto the beach.
The message was toss them back first since they will be the first to die from being out of the water.
Then go for the invertebrates like crabs and shrimp.
Overall, they did a great job, our critter death rate was extremely low.

Two campers heading out to seine.

If you have never seined, it works like this.
Two people, one on each end of the net, walk parallel to each other allowing the weighted bottom of the net to move along the seafloor.
The floats keep the top edge above water and the net wall roughly vertical.

After a short walk, the shoreward partner stops and the outermost partner pivots around her until they are parallel to each other and the shore.

Then they walk the net up to the shore and lay it flat to inspect their catch.

Ancient tech that works just fine in the digital age.

NEXT: I show the girls how to hold a blue crab.
The wound has almost completely healed ...

HAGEN'S COVE... PARADISE IS WORTH THE DRIVE

Hagen's Cove is a public park just north of the picturesque town of Steinhatchee, Florida. 

It's a long way from just about anywhere, but that's a plus in my book.

The park allows the public access to a large shallow bay on the Gulf.

The size and shallowness of this bay is what makes it such a dog friendly place. You can spread out with your pups and not be a bother to the dogless folks.

We kept our furry companions close leashed as we walked out past the shoreline sunbathers and waders.

Once we were far out in the bay, yet still in clear knee deep water, we let those doggies run!

But enough of my view, I'll let the dogs tell the story. It was their day in the sun after all...

Bear: "Well, at first we were on the leash, and it was fun and all, but little did I know we would be leashless in just a few moments.
I led the way of course, being senior in command."

"FREEDOM!  FOLLOW ME PUPS!"

"We were like a pack of wolves, ...SEAWOLVES!"

Coquina: "Let me tell the story Bear, ... remember the shark?
Bear: "Yes, that kind of freaked you out."

Coquina: "We were all having fun and then Peanut's Momma Emma casually pointed out a shark swimming between us."

Peanut: "Heh, I'll never forget the look on your face Coquina!   Priceless... "

"SSSSShark?"

"Run away, Run away!"

Bandit: "It was just a bonnet shark, but any excuse for a run is a good one!"

Coquina: " At least I didn't go hug my Momma afterwards Bandit."

Bandit: "Hugging your Daddy is pretty much the same thing, Coquina."

Bear: "It was a fun splashy day, even if Emma would not let me eat that hermit crab she found."

Peanut: "It was awesome, even if we all drank too much saltwater... right Coquina? ..."

Coquina: "I only threw up about a gallon back on shore Nut!"

Bandit: "After a while, we were all worn out and just floated around chilling on a beautiful day. My legs are kind of short, so I did more floating than the rest of you."

Peanut: "I liked it when Emma found the horseshoe crab and I got to check it out.  First I smelled it. Then I tried to taste it, but it was all wiggly with lots of pointy pokey parts."

Bear: "I think it was glad to get away from you when Dad released it"

Coquina: "Back on shore, we releashed, but I didn't mind much, because I was so tired and thirsty.
Bear: We went through a gallon of water pretty fast. More bowls next time Humans!"

Upper Left: "Bear"
Upper Right:" Bandit"
Lower Left:" Coquina"
Lower Right:" Peanut"

Thank you puppies for the Hagen's Cove interview. It was an awesome day.

If you are going to Hagen's Cove, I'm sure you will GPS map your route, but if you simply go north on highway 361 out of Steinhatchee, you'll get there in about 20 minutes or less.

At the park, you'll find an observation tower, pavilions with picnic tables, water, and a composting toilet type of restroom.
Nearby is a small boat ramp, but be advised the cove's waters are very shallow.

Going in the fall and winter, maybe without your dogs, is an awesome time to see tons of migrating shorebirds.

Hagen's Cove definitely qualifies as "Pure Florida".

BIRD SPIT

On the way into the University of Florida's research station on Seahorse Key, the channel, and therefore the boat must pass close to a sand spit that is a popular bird dry

dock area.

Things were pretty laid back at the spit last Wednesday until a certain field tripping group of students cruised by on their way into Seahorse Key.

The cormorants were the first to jump spit.

The Brown Pelicans followed their lead.

Of course, that started a chain reaction.

Jumping spit seemed to be an appropriate response ... "birds of a feather" and all that.

Of course, comfortably perched on one of  the convenient pooping stations that surround the island,  I didn't feel a need to panic like the rest.
It's just a boat you bird brains.

Gold Discovered in Cedar Key, Florida

Aurumorning 

Diamonds and gold

Danza de oro

Ausymmetry

Boron
Iridium
Darmstadtium

Feeling Low ... Winter Tides

We Earthlings are closest to the Moon at the turn of the year.

All that cosmic coziness gives a little extra tug on the tides in the winter.

Mix a little perihelion with a full moon and you get tides like you see below.

On this morning in early January, it looked like you could walk to Seahorse Key off in the distance.
The sand bar in the foreground is the "Sandspit" at beautiful Cedar Key, Florida.
Not seen is the fact that it goes on and on to the right of this photo.
I like going out on the Sandspit on a warm summer night with a good headlamp.
You can see all kinds of critters creeping about in the mud in the dark.
I posted about this back in 2008.

(It's worth a click on that link just to see baby Bear dog)

How low can you go?

Besides a change in scenery, these super low tides concentrate and strand marine life, making the grocery getting much easier for these wood storks and white pelicans.
Ya gotta get while the gettin' is good.

UNDERCAMP

A lot of fun happens topside at the camp.

For me, a lot of fun happens beneath the camp too.

Take this piling for instance.
This is one fun piling.
We'll come back to it later.

The Mangrove Snapper kids were having fun hanging out around the dead crab trap under the camp.
When you are a juvenile snapper, "fun" means eating without getting eaten.
 This is not a ghost trap that keeps on catching, it's torn open and is a popular refuge for the snapper clan.

I grew up calling these fish,  "Mango Snappers".
When they are big and move out to the deeper reefs, they go by "Grey Snappers" ... which is a pretty boring name compared to the other options.
And of course, whatever your village calls them they are known as "Lutjanus griseus" to science chimps around the world.

The old trap is becoming a micro artificial reef with lots of ways in and out. The hydrozoans and algae coating it provide habitat and food for a host of small invertebrates that attract the smaller fish upon which the juvenile snappers feed.
At night, when the sharks move in, it's a place to tuck your snappery butt in... and hope for the best.

Beneath the camp, shafts of light pound down around the edge, but in the center, it's dark and cozy.
The snapper appreciate this and react accordingly to threats or perceived threats like me.
In to the light when they feel safe, back into the shadows when they don't.
On this day I was bearing shrimp, so my threat level was low.

Here we are back at that fun piling I mentioned at the beginning of this little swim.
This piling has been here a long time. It sits apart from the camp ... oh, maybe 6 meters out from the lee side. It's basically a boat hitching post.

The oysters have colonized it and silently, slowly, shove each other aside as they jockey for the best plankton catching position.

The coolest things happen around this life-crusty piece of wood. The last time I was here in 2013, a giant southern stingray was lying next to it. At a meter across and sporting a 25 cm stinger, they impress by simply being.

On this swim, I pulled up to the piling to pause while Raymie and crew launched a boat to go off spearfishing at another location.
Once they pulled away and it was safe to resume snorkeling, the most amazing thing happened.

Out of the gloom, a large southern stingray cruised my way flanked by two legal (33 inches) Cobia.
Cobia look pretty sharkalicious, but they are a bony fish, not part of the cartilaginous clan... like the ray they were following.
They like like to hang with rays, since the rays often stir up food that the speedy Cobia can snatch up.
Cobia are awesome fish that fight powerfully on the line and taste wonderful on the plate.


The fish flotilla cruised right by me, just a few feet from the camp where the boys had tried their luck spearfishing earlier ... with minimal results... not because they can't shoot straight, just a lack of big fish worth spearing.


Pretty funny that this would happen as they headed off to a new hunting spot.

The pinfish were pretty stoked that I brought shrimp to the party AND that the Cobia kept going past the camp.
Pinfish swarm beneath the camp eating anything and everything that gets tossed over ... chunks of fruit, a bit of bread, that hotdog nobody ate, and of course any fishing bait you dangle over the side.
They even nibbled on the sea loosened skin around my barnacle scraped toes.
I'm thinking that when the time comes, I'd like my ashes mixed (you can wear gloves kids) with some fishmeal, flour, and enough water to make dough balls, and then feed them to these pinfish. 

I like the idea of that better than just a quick ash dump into the ocean.
And I owe the pinfish ... I've impaled many of them on a hook fishing for something bigger.

They are pretty efficient recyclers after all, and there's no need to lock up good nutrients.
Just sayin' ...

This toadfish was here every day, but hard to photograph up close, because when I dove down for a closer view, he backed into his hollow log every time.
Pretty awesome toad abode.

After awhile, even I get waterlogged ... actually, the sun was just too low to make photography possible ... and a pair of medium (too small!!) fins were making my size 11's howl.

Even so, leaving the water is always a little bittersweet.

I guess, I still miss my dorsal fin...and gills.

I love this place and am so grateful for the generosity of family and friends that makes days like this possible.