You all remember that a program on the giant squid is on the Discovery Channel tonight, right? I’m tuned in right now.
You all remember that a program on the giant squid is on the Discovery Channel tonight, right? I’m tuned in right now.
Lots of people have been emailing me with the news about this filmed sequence showing a giant squid snagged on a deep line. Did you know that the paper is freely available online (pdf)? It’s very cool. The researchers were jigging for squid with a 1km long line, snagged one by a tentacle, and then watched for the next four hours as it struggled to get free.
The squid’s initial
attack was captured on camera (figure 3a) and shows the
two long tentacles characteristic of giant squid wrapped in
a ball around the bait. The giant squid became snagged
on the squid jig by the club of one of these long tentacles.
More than 550 digital images were taken over the
subsequent 4 h which record the squid’s repeated
attempts to detach from the jig. For the first 20 min,
the squid disappeared from view as it actively swam away
from the camera system. For the next 80 min, the squid
repeatedly approached the line, spreading its arms widely
(e.g. figure 3b) or enveloping the line. During this period
the entire camera system was drawn upwards by the squid
from 900 m to a depth of 600 m (figure 3g). Over the
subsequent 3 h, the squid and system slowly returned to
the planned deployment depth of 1000 m. For the last
hour, the line was out of the camera frame, suggesting
that the squid was attempting to break free by swimming
(finning and/or jetting) away from the system. Four hours
and 13 min after becoming snagged, the attached tentacle
broke, as seen by sudden slackness in the line (figure 3c
versus d ). The severed tentacle remained attached to the
line and was retrieved with the camera system (figure 3e).
The recovered section of tentacle was still functioning,
with the large suckers of the tentacle club repeatedly
gripping the boat deck and any offered fingers (figure 3f ).
I’ve put the figure they describe below the fold. It’s a thing of beauty: an 8meter (26 foot) beast attacking the bait. Remind me not to go swimming below 500m, OK?
Yet another entry in the catalog of strange things people see that remind them of me: the Stinky Squid(Pseudocolus fusiformis), thanks to William Gulvin.
I’m going to have to see if my TV still works, because the Discovery Channel is broadcasting giant squid videos on Saturday and Sunday, August 5 and 6.
(via Squid)
David Berner compiled a list of a few cephalopod based Maakie strips, so I’ll pass them on to you. It’s two good things at once.
I can almost see why an octopus would find an elephant attractive, although it might look like a heptaplegic to it.
Watch the ‘pretty’ birdies land on a tree.
Lippard has also pulled out a viewer comment that you will find hard to believe.
The carnivals du jour:
Again, this is also an open thread. I got a comment on the last one that more open threads are needed. Is that true? I don’t need to go to Atrios-level open-threadery, of course, but if you’d like these a little more often, let me know.
The other day, I was asked a simple question that I knew the answer to, right off the top of my head, and since I’m nothing but lazy and lovin’ the easy stuff, I thought I’d expand on it a bit here. The question was, “How do flounder get to be that way, with their eyes all on one side of the head?” And the answer is…pedantic and longwinded, but not too difficult.
The Pleuronectiformes, or flatfish, are a successful teleost order with about 500 known species, some of which are important commercially and are very tasty. The key to their success is their asymmetry: adults are camouflaged ambush predators who lurk on the sea bottom, taking advantage of their flat shape to rest cryptically and snap up small organisms that wander nearby. They lie on their sides, and have peculiarly lop-sided heads in which one eye has drifted to the other side, so both eyes are peering out from either the left or right side (which side is consistent and characteristic for a particular species, although there is at least one species with random assignment of handedness to individuals, and mutant strains are known in others that reverse the handedness.)
A reader discovered this fascinating graffiti in downtown Minneapolis, near the transit center on Hennepin Avenue.
In Minneapolis! So far from the sea, but I’m not alone in pining for it.
I may have to look this up. This is a travel week for me, as I have to run around taking care of some essential pre-school year duties—I’m actually sitting in the St Cloud mall right now, watching the senior citizens do their laps, while waiting for our car to get some minor repairs and maintenance—and tomorrow I have to run in to the university to attend a meeting and to the airport to dispose of one of my kids for a few weeks. I might have some time to cruise the squid-haunted streets of the Big City for a while.