How is a cuke like a bear?

 I have to confess: I broke the rules. My own rules.

See, the story is, I saw this gull on the beach poking at something red. Red and shiny and floppy. Not a red urchin, not a red chiton. When I walked closer, the gull picked it up and flew a short distance away. I followed. Again, the gull carried his treasure a few metres farther down the shore. And again.

What's that you've got?

I gave up; I really wanted to see what the gull had. So I yelled and ran towards him, waving my arms. It's not something I would normally do, but it wasn't as if I was going to steal his food, just look at it; he could come back for it once I'd seen it. And that's how gulls behave among themselves, isn't it; screaming and shrieking and chasing each other to claim some treat? My excuse.

Anyhow, the gull flew away this time, leaving his prey behind.

A sea cucumber, the giant red sea cucumber, Parastichopus californicus.

It looked alive. I could find no sign of injury, so I carried it to a trench full of water, and left it to recover. Sorry, gull!

Cucumber in water, with sea urchins, arm of purple starfish.

It was moving slowly. I watched for a while, then left it to recover.

This is a strange beastie; it sleeps without eating all winter, like a bear. But it goes the bear one better; in the fall, it digests its own organs and starts the new spring off with all fresh innards.

Parastichopus californicus feeds as it moves randomly along the bottom; in one study, P. californicus moved up to 3.9 metres in a day. The mop-shaped tentacles of P. californicus are pressed onto the substratum and small particles adhere to the sticky surface. As the tentacle retracts toward the mouth, the edges curl in to grasp larger particles. The tentacle enters the mouth and releases the particles. The animal gets its nutrition from the organic material in the sediment, mostly bacteria and fungi. As with many sea cucumbers, Parastichopus californicus ceases feeding and becomes dormant from September to early March.

From late summer to March most specimens have no obvious internal organs. Early workers thought that the internal organs were eviscerated through the cloaca. Recent evidence, however, indicates that the animal resorbs the organs during the dormant phase, and regenerates them during the winter. (From E-Fauna BC)

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Tengo que confesar; desobedecí las reglas, y fueron mis propias reglas.

Así fue la cosa; vi una gaviota en la playa, y tenía una cosa roja, de un rojo fuerte, brilloso y flexible. No era un erizo de mar rojo, ni un quitón rojo. Cuando me acerqué, la gaviota tomó su tesoro y voló uno pocos metros más adelante. Le seguí. Otra vez se levantó, llevando esa cosa roja. No lejos. Yo le seguí. Y otra vez se fue.

Primera foto: la gaviota con su presa.

No me servía nada más seguir la gaviota tranquilamente; grité y corrí, agitando las manos al aire. Esto no es algo que haría normalmente; la playa les pertenece a los residentes; no es mi lugar. Pero no es que le iba a robar su comida, nada más la quería ver, y luego la gaviota podría regresar a recogerla de nuevo. Y por cierto, así es como las gaviotas se llevan entre sí, ¿no? Gritan y chillan y se persiguen, tratando de robar la comida de las otras. Es mi pretexto.

Bueno, al final del caso, la gaviota se alejó, dejando su hallazgo en la piedra.

Segunda foto: un pepino de mar, Parastichopus californicus.

Parecía estar vivo, y no pude hallar ningún daño, así que lo llevé a una grieta llena de agua y allí lo deposité para recuperarse del susto. ¡Lo siento, gaviota!

Tercera foto: el pepino en el agua, con unos erizos de mar verdes, y el brazo de una estrella de mar.

Estos son unos animalitos bien extraños. Duermen todo el invierno sin comer, al igual que los osos. Pero en contraste con el oso, este pepino de mar digiere sus órganos interiores en el otoño y empieza la nueva primavera con un conjunto totalmente nuevo.

Del sitio E-Fauna BC: lo siguiente: —Parastichopus californicus come mientras se mueve al azar sobre el substrato; en un estudio,P. californicus caminó hasta 3.9 metros en un dia. Los tentáculos en forma de melena se ponen en contacto con el suelo y pequeños objetos se adhieran a la superficie pegajosa. Mientras los tentáculos se vuelven a la boca, se doblan, agarrando partículos más grandes. El tentáculo entra a la boca y suelta lo que capturó. El animal obtiene sus nutrientes de la materia orgánica en el sedimento, por la mayor parte hongos y bacteria. Como es el caso con muchos pepinos de mar, Parastichopus californicus deja de comer y se mantiene dormido desde septiembre hasta principios de marzo.

Desde el final del verano hasta los principios de marzo, la mayor parte de estos pepinos no tienen ningún órgano interior visible. Estudiantes del organismo antes creían que los órganos se desechaban por medio de la cloaca. Pero datos recientes indican que el pepino reabsuerbe los órganos durante la etapa de estivación y los regenera durante el invierno.

A quibble

I must go down to the sea again,
To the lonely seas and the sky,
And all I ask is ...
(Apologies to John Masefield)

A dose of reality: that loneliness is deceptive. The sea has no space for loneliness. Under that apparently calm surface are teeming multitudes of busy lives.

And the sky; from here, we don't see the mobs of mosquitoes, flies, butterflies, ballooning spiders, and the like. The swallows see them though, and dart through the clouds collecting supper for the little ones.

I had gone down to the boat ramp to get new water for my aquarium. The day was cool and grey, welcome after a taste of summer; as I left, it was starting to rain. The tide was turning and everything, air and water and rocks, seemed momentarily in stasis.

One "lonely" crow.

But there were crabs and jellyfish in the water at the foot of the ramp, snails and barnacles on the rocks. And that crow is watching a quarrel, a horde, a squabbling, shrieking, greedy melee of gulls, fighting over the cat food I had just left at water's edge. (The cats had rejected it. I think they read the labels and refuse to taste anything other than the most expensive brands. But it was full of fish and chicken innards and ground corn and fish oils; ideal gull food. They had left all their perches on the rocks around to come to the party.)

A few seconds later, the crow joins the fun.

Fishing harbour seal, leaving the school to come and see what was going on on shore.

Every so often, out in the channel another black head would pop up. Harbour seals, following a school of fish. I counted four heads up at the same time: no telling how many were down there feasting.

One of the gulls on the boat ramp, taking a breather. The food's almost all gone, anyhow.

... And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

Can't argue with him there!

On approaching birds on the beach

Killdeers are worrywarts.

There's no need; I never see them until they rise up in a panic and fly away, peeping frantically.

Gulls are calm (about people, not about food found by rival gulls), and think about my approach for a while before they decide to leave.

"Is it worth the effort to give up my nice, cosy rock?"

Mallards, off-shore, are impervious.

A peaceful afternoon paddle with the neighbours. Life is good.

Life of the party

The bird blind on Mitlenatch Island looks down over a rocky cliff painted white with gull guano. There's a plank bench big enough for 4 people, and a plank (the same one?) removed from the wall, leaving a gap to peer through. The gulls don't seem to notice us, only a few feet away, and go about their important business unperturbed.

One of the gulls on the nearest rock was showing off, repeatedly opening his mouth wide as if to screech, but soundlessly, unless his call was beyond human ears' reach. The others didn't seem too impressed.

Our guide explained that this is courtship behaviour. I Googled it and found no more info, so I'll have to translate the proceedings as best I can.

"Check out my tonsils!"

"Good one, eh?"

"He actually thinks he's funny," says gull 2.

"Hee, hee, hee! Chortle!"

Face palms, gull style. At least the clown is happy. And silent.

Far below us, in the water, seals were swimming, birds were diving. We left the blind and went on down the trail.


(3rd in a series of 9 Mitlenatch Island posts. #1, #2, #3, #4. #5. #6, #7, #8)