Archive for October, 2008

European Invaders: Periwinkles

Saturday, October 18th, 2008

As we explore the intertidal zone, that area between low and high tide where land and sea are locked in eternal battle, where life must confront pounding surf one moment alternating with barren exposure to rasping winds the next, where creatures are attacked by water predators half the time and land predators the rest of the day, where everything is drowned in brine at high tide and then soaked in rain at low, a harsh clime of extreme contrasts that change as quickly as New England’s weather; as we search this region we find one of its more common residents, the languid and familiar periwinkle (Littorina littorea).  Some scientist sure wanted us to remember where this critter came from with both genus and species derived from the Latin littoralis (or litoralis) meaning “of the shore.”

Periwinkles and Barnacles

My earliest memories of Cape Cod sealife are of periwinkles dotting the rocky sidewalls of the canal where my mom and dad brought me each Sunday to fish.  Back then fishing was less commercial, yet not purely recreational, either.  Yes, it was a break from the intense six-day, back-straining work week, but no excurision was successful unless you brought home food that would supplement household resources, especially for meatless Fridays.  And while fish were plentiful and Sunday after Sunday yielded flounder or cod or tautog or bass for the family table, there were days when the fish just “weren’t biting” and we had to look elsewhere on the food chain to meet our needs.

Blue Mussels

Next down our list were blue mussels that grew in large colonies on the old mud flats near the railroad bridge.  Back in those days few people ate mussels.  So, it’s amusing five decades later that you can’t read a seafood menu without mussels marinara or mussels something.  But if the tide was too high and our access to the flats was cut off, there was always one last food source to exploit: periwinkles.  They may have been small, but they were plentiful, very plentiful.  And no one, no one ate or even thought of eating periwinkles.  Yet, mom sauteed them in butter and garlic, then tossed them into her fresh spaghetti sauce for flavoring instead of pork or beef on meatless Fridays.  Many years later when I visited my parents and brought them out to dinner at a fancy Boston restaurant, I suggested to mom that she try the escargot, sauteed in garlic and butter, as an appetizer.  She looked at me as though she had raised a barbarian.  “Snails!  You want me to eat snails!”  I smiled, apologized and suggested the mussels marinara.

Periwinkle (Littorina littorea)

While an extremely common critter along our rocky shores, jetties, dock pilings and tidal pools, periwinkles are not native to North America.  They are an invasive species introduced into the Northeast perhaps sometime in the 19th century.  First documented in Nova Scotia in the mid-1800s, periwinkles can now be found in plentiful numbers up and down the Eastern Seaboard.  Whether they were brought to our shores deliberately as a favorite food of European settlers or they hitchhiked across from Europe in ballast water or clinging to creases in ship plankings, the method of their arrival is clouded in history.  They are consumed extensively in Europe today and are increasingly being harvested from New England shorelines.

The main body of this small, shell-covered snail is comprised of a large foot, head and mantle, covered with a protective operculum (see image above).  The operculum, a tough, horny “door” snaps the snail’s soft, vulnerable body into the shell during dry spells such as low tides. 

 

Periwinkle Anatomy

 

Two antennae (chemosensory organs) peek out from a fleshy foot.  In the image above you can see one eye near the stem of the higher antenna and the snout between the two antennae.  The sole of the foot is the curved white surface behind (below) the operculum.  The muscular, mucus laden foot enables the periwinkle to move along rocky boulders and transverse rocky and sandy shores in search of food.  Periwinkles are herbivores.  They graze copious amounts of algae such as the the macro algae sea lettuce (Ulva lactuca) and much smaller diatoms (phytoplankton).

 

 

Periwinkle in Action

 

Factoid:  Periwinkles have a serrated, rasping, knife-like tongue called the radula.  The radula scrapes algae from rocks.  (In other snail species, the radula bores through hard shells like quahogs, oysters, et cetera.)  For periwinkles, the algae is mixed with mucus and then passed into the digestive track.

Predators include crabs, seastars, birds and now a voracious worldwide human population.

In Search of the Great Pumpkin

Thursday, October 16th, 2008

Pumpkin Patch in Marstons Mills, Cape Cod

Halloween!  The sweetest, most inventive American holiday arrives in a mere two weeks.  Halloween was once dominated by roving gangs of ghosts and goblins squealing the churlish threat of “Trick or Treat,” a menacing phrase eeriely reminiscent of the old British highwaymen’s “Stand and Deliver” or the 20th century mugger’s “Your Money or Your Life.”  But America’s greatest cartoon genius, Charles Schultz, rescued Halloween from ghouls and gangsters, sprinkled it with child-like purity and gave us back our innocence.  So, each October we search the far landscape for the most perfect pumpkin patch where the Great Pumpkin will appear to the purest of heart.

“It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” by Charles Schultz

A snipe hunt?  No way.  Even if we suspected that Charles Schultz had tried to pull one over on us, Linus would never try to deceive.  And even a snipe hunt offers opportunities for fresh air and the beautiful Cape Cod countryside.

Searching for the Great Pumpkin at Cob Webb Farm in Marstons Mill

On Wednesday we drove out into the woodlands of Marstons Mills on the Upper Cape and spotted the Cob Webb Farm pumpkin patch.  We were the only patrons with acres and acres of pumpkins to survey, selecting a perfect 25-pound orange globe as the Halloween welcome sign for our front porch.

Squirrel Finds the Great Orange “Acorn”

Not all pumpkins are for carving, but they are revered nevertheless.  A neighborhood squirrel stumbled across the decorative pumpkin we placed on our front banister to invite youngsters for a sweet Halloween feast.  Even this bushy tailed rodent morphed into a cuddly Schultz-like creation, transformed by a Halloween pumpkin into cartoon purity with eyes swelling, arms trembling and heartbeat racing so fast that its chest vibrated like a base drum.

Spotted Cucumber Beetle (Diabrotica undecimpunctata)

Well, you may have thought you’d get through an entire post without that pesky science stuff.  No such luck.  While we were walking through the Cob Webb Farm patch and inspecting orange orbs, we found a slew of spotted cucumber beetles (Diabrotica undecimpunctata) feasting on stems and crawling around pumpkins.  Their dorsal color blends perfectly with the surface of the pumpkin, turning them invisible to the untrained eyed.  We also found a few striped cucumber beetles (Acalymma vittatum) that had embedded themselves into the surface of the pumpkin.  Both spotted and stiped cucumber beetles cause significant damage to cucurbit crops, including plants like cucumbers, squashes, pumpkin gourds and melons.

Cucumber Beetle “Break Dancing”

To balance the science we’ll close this post with a photographic melange of a very talented cucumber beetle that appeared engaged in a complex, acrobatic break dancing routine.

Wake of Buzzards Haunts Wellfleet Harbor

Wednesday, October 15th, 2008

True the economic picture has turned bleak with the market hovering around 9000 this morning as this post gets written.  Still, we were surprised yesterday by a wake of buzzards perched on a dead copse of trees and haunting Wellfleet Harbor.  (Yes, Virginia, “wake” is the collective noun for buzzards … and a rather appropriate one, we might add.)

Wake of Buzzards — Sign of the Times?

Certainly not a commentary on the town, I’m sure.  Wellfleet Bay is, in the opinion of Turtle Journal, one of the most gorgeous natural locations anywhere in the developed world.  Yet, even the most stone hearted, cold-blooded, turtle-like person could be forgiven for wondering whether these vultures might portend troubled times ahead.  Somehow, we suspect that this image won’t make it onto a glossy, chamber of commerce picture postcard of Outer Cape must-see sights. 

Click Here to View Video in High Quality

Turkey Vultures Roost on Dead Trees Overlooking Wellfleet Harbor

These magnificent, if somewhat threatening, scavenger birds are turkey vultures (Cathartes aura) that feed almost exclusively on carrion.  While some might be repulsed, we’re certain that Ben Franklin would have considered them among the best of birds as he lobbied hard for the selection of the turkey rather than the eagle as our national symbol. 

Turkey Vulture (Cathartes aura) in Wellfleet Harbor

Not very skittish, these buzzards allowed us to approach within a few feet, not too surprising because they have few natural predators and are protected from us under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act.  We clicked away in silence but when the camera beeped to change digital storage devices, the vultures decided the better part of valor was to take a long, graceful glide around Chipman’s Cove.

Turkey Vulture Rides the Thermals Above Wellfleet Harbor

Five Star Day on West Island

Monday, October 13th, 2008

This afternoon we explored the shoreline of West Island in Fairhaven, Massachusetts.  West Island lies on the western shore of Buzzards Bay across the water from Woods Hole, Falmouth and Naushon Island on the east side.  The weather varied from overcast to broken sunshine with temperatures in the chilly 50s and a strong easterly breeze blowing in off the bay and ocean.

West Island on Left; Buzzards Bay in Center; Falmouth & Woods Hole on Right

West Island is not normally a specimen collector’s delight with shoreline filled inches deep and yards thick with codium and eel grass, but we chanced to arrive at dead low and we decided to explore the exposed tidal pools at the southern point of the island.

Click Here to View Video in High Quality

West Island Shoreline with Heavy Codium & Eel Grass Wrack

It proved a five star afternoon: seastars, that is.  We had never found seastars on West Island before, but today they seemed scattered throughout the southern tip of the island, hiding in pools of water under rocks, foraging in tidal pools and hectored by ubiquitous seagulls.

First Seastar (Asterias forbesi) on South Point of West Island

Seastars (Asterias forbesi), often popularly called starfish, have five “arms” which can regenerate.  In fact, the natural history says that a seastar needs only a segment of the central disk along with one arm to regenerate into a new seastar.  We should be so lucky!  With mostly cloudy skies, brisk winds and chilly temperatures, seastars were moving even slower than their normal sluggish pace.  But while conditions weren’t in their favor, they did present us some great opportunities to document these magnificent critters.  The following sequence from our first seastar gives an overview of the creature’s dorsal (top) and ventral (bottom) sides.

Click Here to View Video in High Quality

Seastar under Rock; Dorsal (top) and Ventral (bottom) Views

Seastars have spiny skin and belong to the phylum echinodermata along with sea urchins and sand dollars.   The top or dorsal surface of a common seastar consists of numerous scattered spines. Each of these spines are, in-turn, surrounded by tiny jaws called pedicellariae. The pedicellariae remove sand and other debris and occasionally snag passing prey.  The ventral (bottom) surface of the seastar’s arms is covered with tube feet that have suctions at the bottom of each foot.  Each tube foot works in coordination with other tube feet enabling the seastar to grasp prey or move about over various surfaces.  The orange spot in the dorsal core is called the madreporite and is responsible for the movement of water into the vascular system that controls the movement of the tube feet.  The clip below shows the tube feet in action as it moves a shell along one of its arms.

Click Here to View Video in High Quality

Seastar Tube Feet on Ventral (bottom) Side of Arms

Seastars are said to prefer clams, quahogs, oysters, et cetera as prey, but will consume snails in a pinch.  Tube feet on the ventral (bottom) surface act like suction cups, securing each side of a bivalve shell while the arms pull them open.  The seastar then inserts one of its two stomachs into the prey and digestion occurs inside the clam, turning the mollusk into liquid that is guided into the seastar’s mouth by cilia on its arms.  The seastar sucks up the liquified clam.

Ventral Surface with Lots of Shelled Critters Moving Along Tube Feet

The second seastar we encountered had previously regenerated one of its arms which was obviously smaller than the other four.  This ventral image below illustrates the size difference.

Seastar with One Regenerated Arm

More active than the first seastar we had discoverd, this one showed off its speed as it “dashed” along a shallow tidal pool.  I know there are some who say that observing a sailboat race is akin to watching grass grow, but it’s clear that those folks have never invested time as spectators in the ultimate sport of champions: seastar racing.  If you have time to invest, we encourage you to enjoy the next two exquisite videos, beginning with the tube-foot dash through the tidal pool.

Click Here to View Video in High Quality

Seastar Glides through Tidal Pool

For those who have survived the previous experience, you are well prepared for the ever-exciting seastar sport of gymnastics; that is, tumbling 180 degrees from ventral up to dorsal up.  Judging is based on artistic content, plus degree of difficulty.  A perfect five point landing earns the highest points, especially from the Eastern European judges who are more technically oriented.

Click Here to View Video in High Quality

Seastar Acrobatics

We found another seastar hugging the underside of a rock and rescued a fourth from the ravages of pestering seagulls.  The fifth and last seastar we almost missed because it looked more like a butterfly lying in a shallow pool.  It had lost three of its arms and we thought we had run across a goner. 

“Butterfly” Seastar with Only Two Arms

But a closer examination revealed that this seastar had healed from its injuries and was a lively and healthy critter, perhaps proving the point that chopping up seastars only serves to create more seastars!

Click Here to View Video in High Quality

Healthy Two-Armed Seastar

A surprising day for the Turtle Journal team.  Temperature, wind, clouds and season conspired against us.  But the gods smiled and gave us quite literally a five star day.

Monet School of Menhaden

Saturday, October 11th, 2008

Island Wharf (Center); Long Wharf and Beverly Yacht Club (Right)

Last evening about an hour before sunset, the Turtle Journal team strolled to the Marion town docks at Island Wharf in Sippican Harbor.  Located just north of the Beverly Yacht Club, the docks lie close to Ram Island and the outlet to Buzzards Bay.  So many yachts are moored in the protected inner harbor that one might literally hopscotch from deck to deck across the broad waterway.  This busy location translates into fewer sightings of shy estuarine critters seeking safety from predators and dangerous encounters with humankind.

Inner Harbor and Island Wharf Left of Ram Island; Buzzards Bay Right

So, rather than “on assignment,” we were merely enjoying a pre-sunset, postprandial walk from Turtle Journal Central along the south bank of Sippican Harbor.  As we climbed down the ramp, we were surpised to see a group of menhaden circling within feet of the empty floating dock.  This late on an October evening, the sun had dipped so low in the southwestern sky that it bathed the harbor in long waves of light and transformed the scene into a blurry impressionist reflection of reality as the rays ricocheted in the thick, plankton rich top layer of harbor water .  Ghostly fish cruised through the water with silver scales casting off flashes of reds, blues, violets and eerie grays.

Click Here to View Video in High Quality

Monet School of Menhaden

The effect was stunning; an impressionist’s canvas painted in light and life.  As we walked back with the image echoing in our memory, we thought had Monet kept fish in his Giverny water garden, he would surely have imported menhaden for such an autumnal moment.