Wednesday, March 11, 2015

The Corvids – Smart Birds Go Fishing

25 November 2014    

            Intelligence was once supposed to be simple. Brain size equaled intelligence.  But, then, there wereissues Some animals, with smaller brains, seemed to be smarter than some animals with larger brains.  So, maybe it was the structure – the way the brain was built. So, could intelligence be found only in brains with a “neocortex?”  Human beings and apes (primates) have brains with a neocortex.  Maybe that’s what made them so smart?   

            Or maybe it wasn’t.

            It came as a surprise when the great apes got nosed out (or should I say, “beaked” out) of their position on the intelligence ladder by a family of birds, the corvids.

            Who are the corvids? 

            You know some of them as blackbirds, crows and ravens.  You know!  Those dark colored birds that, over the past few centuries, have developed a rather “dark” reputation. Often used as props in Gothic horror films and stories, in some circles, these birds are even believed to be omens of death.

            In spite of the “funeral” overtones of their reputation, the corvids themselves are thriving.  In fact, they are one of the few groups of birds on earth whose populations are increasing.  Maybe this is because they like to hang-out with another species whose populations are increasing . . .  us. 

            Corvids are more scavengers than predators, and human society provides them with abundant supplies of exotic foods.  We, also, probably provide them with entertainment because, in fact, they watch us more closely than we’ve ever watched them.  And, certainly, they remember more of what they see of us than we do of them. 

            As disturbing as it sounds, if you live in a neighborhood with a large corvid population, they know who you are.  Not just that you’re a human being.  They know and recognize you They, also, know where you live.   

            To explain the avalanche of evidence of the high intelligence of these birds, a new theory has been “floated.”  Intelligence isn’t about brain size or structure.  Maybe intelligence is brain to body ratio.  That is, brain size compared to body size.  With that formula, the corvid’s walnut-sized brain is bigger in relation to its body than are the brains of any of the great apes.  And maybe this new formula will make sense of it all.  Because testing corvid intelligence produced some strange results.

            Why?

            Because these birds are smarter than any of the great apes.  In fact, if your children are around 5 or 6 years old, in terms of intelligence, they’ve been edged out by the neighborhood crows.  Corvid intelligence is roughly comparable to about a 7 year old human child.  And, if you’ve ever lived with a 7 year old human child, this should make you just a little nervous.

            But before we go too much farther, we’ve left some corvids out.  All these birds aren’t the black birds with “Grim Reaper” associations.  The bright colored blue jay and two-toned magpie are also corvids.  As a matter of fact, the magpie was the first of the group to attract a lot of attention.

            Corvids live in clearly defined social groups during the period in which they raise their young.  In fact, if corvids could speak, they probably would have been the first to coin the African proverb -- “it takes a village to raise a child” because young corvids are raised, strictly, within a defined community.

            When observing one of these communities of magpies, researchers noted how aware these birds were of their fellow magpies.  This awareness is described by the term empathy.  And the corvids have a good grasp not only of their fellow birds as individuals but, also, what their fellow birds might be thinking.

 Magpie

            These birds often gather food and hide it for a later meal.  If they see another bird watching them hide their food, they don’t “let on.”  Instead, they finish the job, hide and watch the bird that was watching them.  If the bird swoops in and tries to steal their hidden meal, the corvid will attack and defend its hidden treasure.  But, if the other bird moves out of sight, the corvid will immediately swoop back in, retrieve its hidden food, and hide it elsewhere – making sure that, this time, it is unobserved. 

            But corvid intelligence goes far, far beyond this kind of behavior.  And to demonstrate (and get to the point), let’s go fishing on the Pacific island of New Caledonia!

            Russell Gray and a group from the psychology department of the University of Auckland in New Zealand were observing New Caledonean crows.  The crows probably got tired of observing this group of human beings who were observing them, and decided to squeeze in some fishing.  Unlike humans, who have to haul their tackle box around with them, the crows “rough-it” and make their equipment from scratch. 

            The crows quickly grabbed tree branches, stripped them of side branches, and formed the ends into hooks.  These birds particularly like to eat a type of grub that lives in narrow nooks and crannies in the rocks.  To get an even quicker snack some of the birds picked up leaves and stripped off the leafy part to get a long, thin probe covered with short barbs.  This was the perfect tool to use extracting grubs.
Crow Fashioning a New Tool

            And these birds aren’t lazy.  Sometimes, it’s quicker to make something from scratch than to go looking for an ideal finished product.  “Betty,” a New Caledonean crow was captured and tested by the ecology group at UK’s Oxford University.  The group’s leader, Alex Kacelnik, explained that the group discovered that the year and a half old bird could do some surprising things.    

            When a bucket of food was placed in a well, Betty was presented with straight and hooked pieces of wire to test whether she would pick the hooked wire and use it to retrieve the bucket and pull it up out of the well.  

            Sometimes, she did, but if a straight piece of wire was closest, Betty just picked it up, bent it into a hook with her beak, and retrieved the bucket from the well.  With strips of different lengths she, just as quickly, bent to strips to the correct length and, then, bent the ends into a hooks and retrieved the bucket.  Adding strips made of different, more or less pliable, material made little difference.  Betty quickly fashioned the perfect tool and retrieved the bucket.

            But where could Betty have learned all this?  Well, Jenny Holzhaider at the University Auckland wanted to find out and, so, followed some of the crows home.  And, of course, discovered the secret crow “tool school.”

            Actually, there is a kind of crow school, and it is a kind of secret.  Most corvids raise their young as part of a close-knit community.  But New Caledonian crows are less community oriented.  But what they lose in community, they gain in family.  These birds raise their young in close-knit family groups.  The adult crows welcome the presence of their children as the adults engage in all sorts of daily activities.  The young birds accompany their parents to locations in which the parents use their tools.  Not only do the young birds observe their parents making tools, but are allowed to use the tools made by their parents.  The young birds spend two years with their parents during the learning process. 

            This is certainly a school.  But is it secret?  Secret, only in the sense that the entire process takes place within the family unit.  Human artisans have long trained, and continue to train, their children and selected apprentices in particular skills.  The crows on New Caledonia seem to do the same thing.   You have to wonder if all crow families are equal in all skills.  Maybe, some particular refinements and techniques are more developed in some crow families than in others.  The crows understand their skills and, keeping their instruction in the family, carefully impart these skills to their young.

 Professorial Crow Probably Lecturing to Students about Human Intelligence

            Dr. Gavin Hunt, also of the University of Auckland, notes that the New Caledonian crow’s abilities are learned, not within a community, but through a small number of “high quality relationships.”

            Is there more? Christian Rutz, of Oxford's behavioural ecology group, believes that we are only at the beginning of learning about crows and far from answering all the questions about the intelligence of these avian fishing-birds.

Mark Grossmann of Hazelwood, Missouri & Belleville, Illinois

Thursday, March 5, 2015

The Tarantula

5 March 2015

            Let’s begin by explaining that “tarantula” is actually a common spider name applied to several otherwise unrelated branches of the spider (or arachnid) family.  So, before we start, let’s agree that, here, we’re talking about the North and South American tarantula of the family Theraphosidae.

            Let’s also begin by remembering that spiders are not insects, but animals.  These eight-legged and eight-eyed creatures are among the most conspicuous and well known animals on earth.  Their reputation has less to do with their behavior than with their appearance. 

            Only a few species of tarantulas are significantly venomous.  In fact, there is no recorded tarantula bite that's caused a human being more than a few days of pain.  Unless hunting for a meal, itself, the tarantula seems to want to avoid venomous biting if at all possible. 

            Imagine you attack and “corner” a tarantula.  Then, you reach out to grab it.  (I know!  I know.  I said imagine it!  It’s not something any sane human being would do.)   First, this large brown hairy spider would face you and rear up waving it's front two (of its eight) legs in the air.  This is supposed to chase you away.  But let’s say you continue to reach for the giant spider.

            The spider will display its fangs.  It has two big fangs and, if you had any sense, you’d turn and run away.  But, for the sake of this example, let’s pretend you don’t and continue to threaten the spider.  It will, then, fling some of the short hair from its body in your direction.  This is something like the spider equivalent of kicking sand in your face.  These small hairs can be mildly irritating, but that’s about all.

            Undaunted, you reach out to grab the tarantula.  It bites you!  But, surprisingly, it’s too early to worry about the effects of the venom because you haven’t been “venomized.”  Tarantulas can give “venomless” bites.  Such bites are used in confrontations with other animals.  Tarantulas save their venom to use on their next meal.  You are just an attacker and, in fact, probably aren’t “venom-worthy” to this tarantula. 

            Is there any way you can get a venomous bite?  Yes, but you have to not only grab the tarantula, but this large spider must also be cornered – have no path of retreat.  Surprisingly, through every step of this confrontation, the tarantula would have been likely to turn and run away if it had a clear path or retreat.  It’s not that this arachnid is a coward.  The tarantula is just spoiling for a meal, not for a fight.   

            On the other hand, the tarantula has a rather surprising group of predators that like to make it into a meal.  The tarantula’s worst enemy is a wasp – and not a particularly big wasp.  The Hemipepsis ustulata wasp has earned the name “tarantula hawk” in South America.  These flying insects sting tarantulas.  Then, the wasps lay their own eggs in the body of the dying arachnid.  The hatching wasp larvae use the body of the dead spider as a food source.

            Human beings eat tarantulas.  These spiders are considered a delicacy in Venezuela and Columbia. They are first cooked over an open fire to remove their hair.  Then, preparation is completed by baking or broiling the arachnid “to perfection.”  When eating at a restaurant featuring Venezuelan or Colombian cuisine, you might want to get the translation of any unrecognized dishes on the menu.   At least, that's what I would do.  I really can’t get used to the idea of chowing-down on roasted tarantula.

            Although most tarantulas eat insects and very small animals, the South American variety sometimes go after bigger prey.  A lot of their fearsome reputation comes from the fearsome names they’ve earned in that part of the world.  When you get the name, the “Goliath Bird-eater,” your reputation as a dangerous predator is bound to soar.  

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Smart Octopus? -- A Different “Flavor”

28 November 2013

Octopuses have a rather creepy reputation.   Let’s just say that, what the creeping spider is to dry land, the eight-tentacled octopus is to the sea — a “monster” of the deep.  These creatures have thousands of suckers on their eight “arms.”  They squirt dark ink, change color, and can squeeze their, sometimes, large bodies through amazingly small holes.  Also, they can really move when they want to move -- having the ability to propel themselves through the water with their own water jet that works in water much like jet engines do in the air.

The octopus is a celebrated predator.   Well equipped for the hunt, the octopus has a parrot-like beak, a tongue covered with teeth, and poisonous venom.  Superficially, there’s nothing about the octopus that would put anyone in a warm or cuddly mood.  But like some seemingly forbidding people you may have met, it seems that the better you get to know the octopus, the more favorable (and friendlier) your opinion becomes.

Scientists have recently discovered that octopuses might be intelligent – much more intelligent than anyone ever suspected.  However, this is one of those discoveries that seems like “yesterday’s news.”  When you read accounts of octopus behavior, the fact that octopuses are intelligent is like the proverbial “elephant in the living room.”  How could anyone have missed it?

Consider Otto, an octopus resident at the Sea Star Aquarium in Coburg, Germany.  Otto shares a large tank with hermit crabs, which he probably traumatizes on a regular basis with his ideas of fun.  Among other activities, Otto likes to juggle the helpless crabs, throwing them, not in the air, but up above him in the tank’s water.  Being repeatedly tossed by a two-handed juggler would be bad enough, but you can only cringe at the thought of the experience with eight hands.

Otto’s behavior isn’t particularly unusual.  In an experiment, Roland Anderson gave octopuses small pill bottles, each of a different color, to evaluate the creatures’ color preferences. Most of the octopuses lost interest when they realized the bottles weren’t food, but one blew a “modulated” jet of water at the bottle sending it swirling to the other end of the tank and back to the sender – repeating this action 20 times.

Anderson compared the action to the human version of bouncing a ball.  Another octopus, in the same group, was caught using its water jet to propel its bottle back and forth over the surface of the water.
What’s so significant about all this?  It’s play.  Anderson’s observations appeared in the Journal of Comparative Psychology. “Only intelligent animals play—animals like crows and chimps, dogs and humans.”

Although, sometimes, Otto seems more like a candidate for the starring role in an upcoming documentary, “When Good Octopuses Go Bad.”  He has demonstrated his mastery of tool-use by throwing stones into the front glass of his tank (damaging the aquarium several times).  In spite of Otto’s disruptions and vandalism, his behaviors are clearly intelligent.

Octopuses gather building materials as part of what is, sometimes, called their fortress behaviors.  These creatures tend to settle in a location and fortify the perimeter with a variety of building materials.  And, in the act of collecting these building materials, the octopus displays one of its most amazing characteristics.  Most animals either use or discard an item that is of no immediate use.  In other words, most animals have no ability to delay gratification and, therefore, do not appreciate the need to find, hold, or transport items that may be of value at a later time.

The Veined Octopus, however, retrieves discarded coconut shells, transports them over a distance, and reassembles them to build a shelter.  This behavior demonstrates the ability to select a tool and, then, hold that tool exclusively for a later use.

You might think of this behavior as resembling grocery shopping.  When you go to the store, you don’t eat the foods you want straight off the shelves and, then, leave without taking any of the food with you.  Rather, you gather food, groceries, and take it all home for future use.

And, it so happens that octopuses often gather food in a way not so different from human grocery shopping.  As it hunts, this creature picks up all the food it can carry and transports the load home.  It will eat the food, at its leisure, later.  With eight arms, an octopus can carry a lot of food, but sometimes its eyes are bigger than its eight-armed carrying capacity.  If it finds its load is too heavy for the trip home, it simply makes an unscheduled stop, eats its “groceries” down to a portable volume and, then, continues home with what’s left.

Octopuses demonstrate other intelligent behaviors.  They are problem solvers. Wilson Menashi designed a puzzle consisting of three plexiglas cubes each with a different type of latch.  When food was placed in the first box and given to an octopus, the creature quickly managed to figure out how to open the box.  Then, the first box was locked in the second box.  Again, the octopus quickly learned to open both boxes to get to the food.  The same swift mastery followed the addition of a third box.

Sadly, when the octopus’ food of choice, crab, is unavailable, some octopuses turn their problem solving abilities to crime.  Sometimes, octopuses rob lobster traps, which they learn to open with relative ease.
And remember never to snooze on the beach with a crab in your pocket.  That crab would be awfully tempting to passing octopus.  Oh, you thought you’d be safe because you weren’t in the water?  Surprise!
Many octopuses seem never to have learned that they are sea-dwelling creatures.  They tend to jump onto land at the least provocation.

An octopus was recently, not just caught on land, but also caught on video grabbing a snack on the beach — completely out of the water.  These creatures like to eat crabs so much that they have been known to climb on board fishing boats, jump into containers of dead crabs, and pig-out. As a matter of fact, aquariums sometimes have difficulty keeping these creatures in the water.

Our old friend, Otto, for example, thought the overhead light in the Sea Star Aquarium was too bright, and his irritation was only relieved by occasional, mysterious power failures.  While the failures gave Otto a break from the bright light, the cessation in the filtration systems in the aquarium’s tanks was a positive danger.

When the power outages became more frequent, the staff organized a stake-out of the area, day and night, to find the cause.  On the third night, Otto climbed out of his tank and directed his jet-stream of water at the irritating light above his tank and continued to do so until the system shorted and the power failed.  The light has been re-installed in a location beyond the range of Otto’s water-jet.

Octopuses frequently put their water-jets to other creative uses.  Octopus Truman of the New England Aquarium developed an aversion to one volunteer and used his water-jet to soak her with salt water at every opportunity.  She eventually quit her volunteer position, but returned for a visit a few months later.  As she entered the lab she was drenched in saltwater by Truman’s jet.  Apparently, Truman remembered her.  He had not sprayed anyone with water since her departure months earlier.

Researching her senior thesis in the octopus lab at Middlebury College, Alexa Warburton often struggled to remove reluctant octopuses from their tanks. The creatures had mastered all the skills I employed on a particular day when I tried to avoid attending the first grade.  The octopuses would hide in the corners of their tanks or hold on to objects and not let go.

In fact, octopuses in captivity escape their tanks with great frequency.  In the Middlebury lab, these creatures use removal from their tank as an opportunity for escape.  A few even used the net as a kind of trampoline bouncing off the net and onto the floor.  Then, they’d make a run for it.  And they’d “run,” Warburton emphasized, “You’d chase them under the tank, back and forth, like you were chasing a cat.”  “It’s so weird!”

When you understand how octopuses behave, it’s tough to understand how their intelligence could have been overlooked for so long.  Perhaps, in the past, science has been too physiologically minded.

For example, several species of birds have recently demonstrated remarkably high levels of intelligence and even self-awareness.  The last common ancestor of human beings and birds roamed the earth about 300 million years ago.  During the last 300 million years, the brains of birds and mammals developed along separate lines. 

Scientists were sure that the mammalian brain’s neocortex made certain species, including human beings, self-aware (i.e., conscious).  Problem.  Several species of birds pass all the self-awareness tests with flying colors, but their brains are the size of walnuts and they have no neocortex.

Then, there’s the octopus.  Octopuses are mollusks, invertebrates, closely related to the clam.  Clams don’t even have brains.  The last common ancestor of human beings and octopuses lived between 500 and 700 million years ago.  From that point on, human and octopus brains developed along separate lines in quite different environments. 

The octopus brain is about the size of a walnut with only about 130 million neurons compared to the 100 billion of the typical human brain.  However, you don’t need these numbers to see some staggering differences.  For example, humans have one brain, but “three-fifths of the octopus’s neurons” are in the octopus’s arms and not their “head.”  It seems that intelligence doesn’t have as much to do with brain size as was once supposed.

Perhaps, the intelligence of octopuses was overlooked because of their lack of social behavior.  These creatures are one of the most unsocial animals you could imagine.  Their contacts with their fellow creatures result in either one octopus eating the other or mating.  There are no other social encounters with their peers.  Period.  In the first instance, predation, one octopus dies when it’s eaten.  In the second, mating, both octopuses die because disorientation and death follow swiftly.

Much of our appraisal of the intelligence of any animal is based on observation of social interaction.  But, in the case of the unsocial octopus, you have to observe its relationship with its inanimate, physical environment to appreciate its intelligent behavior and evaluate the scope of its intelligence.  Strangely, the captive octopuses that are the subject of study in laboratories seem to enjoy a richer relationship with their human captors, than any of their own species.  But, perhaps, even this relationship is the simple result of the dependence of the captive octopuses on their human captors for survival (food).

Maybe it’s the plain strangeness of both the octopus and its intelligence that so long delayed the “discovery” of the creature’s intelligent behavior.  Philosopher Peter Godfrey-Smith compared encountering the octopus with “meeting an intelligent alien.”  And, indeed, everything seems so “out-of-whack” when you learn about the octopus. 

For example, octopus communication is limited to changes of color.  An octopus uses color changes to camouflage itself, express emotions, and warn off (frighten) predators.  But the octopus’s use of a wide range of color displays becomes confusing when you discover that these creatures are colorblind.  But, then, you discover that octopus “skin contains gene sequences usually expressed only in the light-sensing retina of the eye.”  So, octopuses may be able to see color with their skin.

In the end, what can we say about the octopus as an intelligent being?  It is an alien.  An immensely ancient alien that evolved on the ocean floor — the oldest and most enduring environment provided by the hydrosphere we call Earth.  However, “alien” is a relative term.  Compared to the octopus, we are the newcomers.  We are one of a group of strange, and relatively new, life forms that live on those limited peaks that rise above and beyond the “more natural" aquatic environment.  Those peaks rise up into a strange medium -- a rarefied level called atmosphere—a level composed entirely of gases, mostly nitrogen and oxygen, rather than water.

As intelligent beings, we continue to confront the all too obvious evidence that “we are not alone.”  But I’m not talking about intelligent life on other planets.  “We are not alone” on our own planet.  The creatures around us have developed intelligence and self-awareness but, often, not “on our terms.”  These “others” have developed out of their own environmental and physiological roots.  Our planet is home to more and stranger environments (worlds) than we regularly or comfortably imagine.   It seems that intelligence and self-awareness are not a single, defined point at one end of a yard stick.  Rather, as Dr. Jennifer Mather of the University of Lethbridge suggests, intelligence and self-awareness may come “in flavors.”

Thursday, February 19, 2015

The Perfect Pet? The Giant Alligator Snapping Turtle


17 April 2014

It was just typical day browsing on the Internet. A story caught my eye. It was about a Louisiana man named Travis Lewis. When he was outside his home, something caught his eye. At first, he thought he saw an unusually large log in a nearby canal.

But with a closer look, he realized that, what he thought was a log, was actually a giant turtle. A giant turtle. It had a head the size of a football and was about 4 feet long. It was, in fact, an alligator snapping turtle. The turtle was wedged in a culvert – stuck.

What does an alligator snapping turtle look like? Well, let’s just say that a dinosaur could mistake one of these turtles for its cousin.

 Giant Alligator Snapping Turtle

The alligator snapping turtle is the largest freshwater turtle in North America.  It has a spiked shell and a beak-like jaw. These turtles can reach 250 pounds and live for almost 200 years. They enjoy hanging out at the bottom of lakes, rivers, and canals.  This turtle has no natural predators other than human beings. These turtles, themselves, eat snakes, clams, and other turtles.

 er ... ah ... could we have just one shot with the mouth closed?  I guess not.

This giant snapping turtle can close its jaw with incredible speed. But, as one article explained, reassuringly, many other snapping turtles have a more powerful bite than the alligator snapping turtle. In fact, relative to its size, this turtle’s bite is no more powerful than that of a human being. The source went on to add, cheerfully, that these turtles can bite through bone.

Okay.

If I’d seen this turtle in a nearby canal, my next steps would have been to go inside my home, call animal control, and lock my door and windows.   But in Louisiana, a giant, prehistoric-looking turtle with a bone-crushing bite inspires a different reaction.

Travis Lewis immediately called for his friend, Martin LeBlanc. When LeBlanc got there, he saw the giant turtle with the football-sized head. Was he worried?  No, of course not.  His first thought?  Dinner.

Yeah, I bet that critter could have fed the whole neighborhood. (Or fed on the whole neighborhood.)

Again, the turtle was stuck – wedged tight in a culvert. The two called a third friend.   Did the newcomer call animal control?   No way.   “Friend # 3,” Louisiana’s answer to Steve Irwin, jumped right into the culvert. The first two followed. Within 45 minutes, the four-foot long snapping turtle was free. Travis casually commented that the group did take care to “stay clear . . . of the business end” of the turtle because “[o]nce it latches on to you, it’s going to take whatever it bites with it.”

See:  Enormous alligator snapping turtle rescued from drainage culvert

A little puzzled by the men’s attitude toward this giant bone-crushing snapping turtle, I did an internet search on the “alligator snapping turtle.”  I was in for a surprise.

In the 1930’s, a man named Dale Carnegie wrote a book called, “How to Win Friends and Influence People.” If Mr. Carnegie were alive today, he would be studying the giant alligator snapping turtle. Why?  Because whatever this turtle is doing, it sure seems to be a hit with everybody.

The first thing I turned up was a set of instructions on how to care for your giant alligator snapping turtle. A little more surprised, I went on searching.  What did I find?  More care and feeding instructions.


Care Sheet – Alligator Snapping Turtle

So, you know what’s happening at your local Humane Society? Rover is waiting in a cage, with a dozen other dogs, hoping to find a home. But the Society has waiting list a mile long for giant alligator snapping turtles.  Sure. That makes sense. We’re talking about a giant snapping turtle with a bone-crushing bite that seems to always be photographed with its beak-like mouth wide open waiting to take your hand or foot off.  Gee, who wouldn’t want to own one?

I used to read stories about the loyalty and heroism of dogs, but I didn’t find anything like that. Instead I found the “heart-warming” story of “Crunch” an alligator snapping turtle. (With that bite, you’ve got to wonder how an animal like this got the nickname  “Crunch.”  . . .)   But, anyway, . . . Crunch was rescued from certain death in a commercial fishery and, now, not only survives, but enjoys a comfortable retirement at the Blackwater Turtle Refuge.

See:  “Crunch” — History;  video: 150 plus year old Alligator Snapping Turtle (“Crunch’)

Speaking of survival, the rescuers of our Louisiana turtle are planning to release it in a spot where it can roam free.   We are assured that the turtle has nothing to fear from rescuer Martin LeBlanc’s turtle soup pot. And you’d need a lot more than pot to cook this four-footer. He’d barely fit in a bathtub.

Enormous alligator snapping turtle rescued from drainage culvert

See also:

Alligator Snapping Turtle – National Zoo FONZ











Friday, February 13, 2015

Australia’s Megafauna — The Forgotten Giants of Prehistory

8 August 2013

Everyone remembers the dinosaurs, but what happened after the dinosaurs went extinct?  They left a vacuum filled by giant and often forgotten animals: the megafauna.  The term megafauna, “big animals,” covers several groups of giant creatures.  However, naturalist Richard Owen honored only the oldest members of the group with the special name, “dinosaur.”  The remaining giants, those that roamed the earth between 10,000 and 40,000 years ago, are known by the (too general) term “megafauna.”

Today, Australia boasts a unique collection of animals.  Not only do these creatures look exceptional, they are also exceptional in terms scientific classification.  The duck billed platypus is classified as a mammal, but has a much lower body temperature than other mammals and lays eggs–earning it a special mention whenever biologists formulate a list of standard mammalian characteristics.  Indeed, the platypus is so “different” that the first reports of its discovery were denounced as “a fraud.”

Australia, also, has a large variety of marsupials, a group of animals that carry their immature young in a pouch for a period of time after birth.  Not surprisingly, the prehistoric Australian megafauna also include a wide variety of now-extinct marsupials.

Throughout millennia, arid periods threatened the survival of Australia’s megafauna, but one particular arid period, their last, coincided with the arrival of homo sapiens.  There is intense debate about whether climate or human interference caused the extinction.  Perhaps, it was some of both.

However, extinction is not necessarily the same as “dying out.”  The megafauna are no more, but many of their direct descendants roam Australia today–miniature versions of their ancient ancestors.  The modern kangaroo and wombat are direct descendants, “distant children,” of monstrously huge versions of themselves.  And huge they were.  New and more precise methods of calculating the size of the ancient mammals has revealed that they may have been much larger than previously thought.

Prehistoric Australia’s strange collection of giant wildlife included Diprotodon, the Giant Wombat. Unlike its relatively petite, modern descendant, this wombat weighed as much as two tons.  The remains of these giant creatures have been found all over Australia.

The Giant Short-Faced Kangaroo, Procoptodon, the largest known kangaroo that ever existed, stood about 7 feet tall and weighed 500 pounds.  Its feet looked a bit like horse hooves having only one large toe on each foot.  Each of its front paws had two long fingers with large claws. A full-size, lifelike replica is on permanent display, along with other ancient Australian animals, at the Australian Museum.

The Marsupial Lion, Thylacoleo, was not quite as big as the modern lion, but had just as strong a bite.  In fact, this creature had the strongest bite for its size of any known mammal species, living or dead.  Its long muscular tail was similar to that of a kangaroo, and it may even have been able to climb trees.  The Marsupial Lion is thought to have hunted large animals such as the giant wombat and giant kangaroo.

The Demon Duck of Doom, Bullockornis, is older than the typical megafauna species.  Although living closer to the age of dinosaurs, it was just too unusual to omit.  This flightless bird was about 8 feet tall and weighed about 500 pounds.  Thought to be carnivorous, Bullockornis had a huge beak, suitable for “shearing,” which probably explains its threatening name.

The giant turtle, Meiolania, had disturbingly devilish horns making its head almost 2 feet wide (measured from the tip of each horn).  The horns prevented the giant turtle from withdrawing its head into its shell–but who was going to mess with it anyway.  Pulling its tail was not a good idea either.  The tail was ringed with armor-like skin and was tipped with spikes.  At about 8 feet long, most animals probably just got out of this turtle’s way as it crawled across the prehistoric landscape.

One cannot research these giant creatures without stumbling across the fact that all continents had megafauna–not just Australia.  North America had one of the most famous species and one of the last to go extinct, the Wooly Mammoth.  This enormous version of the modern elephant roamed the northern extremes of North America about 12,000 years ago.

At one-ton (2,000 pounds), Andrewsarchus was the largest carnivorous land mammal that ever lived.  Bearing a resemblance to the hyena, on which it preyed, it might be the biggest dog-like creature that ever lived.  It was certainly larger than the than biggest prehistoric dog, Canis Diris, the Dire Wolf.  At 150 pounds, the Dire Wolf was a featherweight compared to Audrewsarchus, but more than a heavyweight compared to its descendant, the modern wolf.  Remains of the Dire Wolf have been found alongside those of the Saber Toothed Tiger in the La Brea Tar Pits of Los Angeles.

Perhaps the species that suffered the most indignity at human hands was a giant version of the modern armadillo, Glyptodon.  It lumbered through the forests of South America and was about the size of a modern VW bug.  Slow and meaty, human hunters had both the patience and ingenuity to hunt and kill this strange creature.  Not only was its meat used for food, its shell was used as a kind of prefabricated living shelter.  In terms of size, its shell provided something like the Torrid Zone equivalent of an igloo.  As human food and housing demands increased, the number of giant armadillos decreased until the prehistoric housing bubble burst when this natural producer of “prefabricated housing solutions” went extinct.

Thursday, February 5, 2015

The Giant Squid – Devilfish, Sea Serpent, Monster of the Deep?

20 February 2014

In early January, off Japan’s Sadogashima Island, fisherman Shigenori Goto made an extreme rare catch – a giant squid.  Hauling in his net from a depth of about 300 feet the fisherman was confronted by something other than the fish he expected – a 12 foot squid weighing about 300 pounds.  Now being studied at the Fisheries Ocean Research Institute in Niigata Prefecture, the undersea giant lived only a few minutes after being brought to the surface.

[image] Giant squid caught in net

Even this “giant” squid can barely compare to the record length of 40 feet and the record weight of nearly a ton.  But even this incredible size is nothing compared the legends that have been inspired by the giant squid.  Fishermen notoriously exaggerate the size of “the one that got away” and, historically, seafarers did the same with the size and nature of the giant squid.

[video] Giant Squid

There is a Norse legend of a tentacled sea monster called the “kraken.”  Bigger than the biggest giant squid, it was said to grow as a large as an island and would gobble up whole ships.  Encounters, not with the “whole” giant squid, but sightings of its tentacles rising up out of the water have resulted in countless legends of sea monsters.  Witnesses, seeing only the giant squid’s tentacles have imaginatively described the unseen monster lurking below the surface.

[image] Sea Monster

Squid became a particular focus of study for naturalists from 1870 to 1880.   During that decade, a large number of squid became stranded in shallow waters near the shores of Newfoundland and New Zealand.  Most often, these squid died, and their remains washed up on a beach, more or less intact.  However, there was at least one reported attack of an adult and a child in a small fishing boat off Bell Island, Newfoundland.  These years were the peak of what came to be called the squid “strandings.”  Though in smaller numbers, strandings have continued to the present day.

[image] stranded squid

In the distant past, the washed-up remains of dead squid were often thought to be sea monsters.  The squid even came to share, along with several other sea creatures, the nickname “devilfish.”  In fact, squid are pretty scary looking.  I like to say squid have 10 arms.  But, in fact, I’m mixing and adding the arms with, and to, the tentacles.  Technically, squid have eight “arms” and two “tentacles.”

But, whether arms or tentacles, both are lined with hundreds of suckers — suction cups about 1 to 2 inches wide.   Each of the suckers is lined with a full set of “teeth” or serrated rings that pierce the flesh and, together with the suction, attach the squid to its prey.  The suction cups run the length of the arms forming a circle around the squid’s month, or rather, its beak, which strongly resembles that of a parrot.
[image] Squid suckers

Like octopuses, squid use jet propulsion to move through the water. They pull water into their body (mantle cavity) and push water out in rhythmic pulses that propel the animal through the ocean.  Their “jet” accounts for most of the their movement, but gets a little help from the squid’s small fins. Unlike most fish, which have a gas filled swim bladder that regulates their depth in the water, the giant squid maintains its depth through the presence of an ammonium chloride solution throughout its body.  Lighter than sea water, the solution allows the squid to regulate its depth.  And it has quite a range.

Although data is incomplete, giant squid seem to roam in a range of depths between 1,000 to 3,000 feet.  The comfort of the squid at such darkness may be because of its eyes, which are the largest of any living creature: 11 inches wide.  Large eyes are more sensitive to light and can detect even small changes in tone.  Extremely light-sensitive vision would serve the squid well in the darkness of these depths.as they feed on deep-sea fish and other squid species.

Giant squid are found throughout the world.  They seem to prefer moderate temperatures and are seldom found in either tropical or arctic waters.  Although fierce predators, themselves, giant squid often become food for sperm whales.  These giant whales are, possibly, the giant squid’s only predator.  Much of our knowledge of how the giant squid’s suckers affect its prey come from scars left on sperm whales after their struggle to make a meal out of a giant squid.

[image] Sperm whale skin scarred by squid

[video] The Giant Squids off Sea of Cortez



 

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

ZOO: Is it a Bird? Is it a Plane? No, it’s a Flying Squid!?

24 January 2014

There have always stories about flying squid, but no actual photographs until Jun Yamamoto of Hokkaido University and his team took pictures of squid in flight in 2011.  Yamamoto said, “[W]e should no longer consider squid as things that live only in the water.”  The team’s study and photos appeared in Marine Biology.


Yamamoto and his team were in the Pacific Ocean east of Toyko tracking a shoal of squid.  Suddenly, about 20 of the 8 inch long creatures shot out of the water and into the air.  Squid launch themselves by shooting a jet of water.  Once in the air, these ten-legged creatures not only form make-shift wings by opening their fins and spreading out their legs, but even flap their fins to stay in the air little bit longer.  Gliding through the air for up to 100 feet, they fold in their fins just before re-entering the water.  Their whole flight takes about 3 seconds.


Biologists, themselves, had seen and reported flying squid.  That some squid “fly” was an accepted scientific fact.  After their own sighting, Biologists Silvia MaciĆ” and Michael Robinson of the University of Miami gathered similar reports from other scientists and co-authored a study published in 2004 in the Journal of Molluscan Studies.

Even before Yamamoto’s photos, there was something more than eye-witness reports.  There was, what you might call, circumstantial evidence.  What was the “smoking gun?”   A lot of “morning-after encounters” in which squid were found on the decks of ships — in the morning.  Researches assumed that the night-feeding squid had wandered into shallow waters.  When they were frightened, they “took flight” with some unlucky flyers landing, not in the sea, but on the deck of a ship.

Before the Hokkaido University team caught their photos of squid in flight, there was little photographic evidence.  Retired geologist and amateur photographer Bob Hulse had taken a few photos off the coast of Brazil.  But, for researchers, the details in these photos didn’t reveal a lot about how squid fly.

The photographs taken by Yamamoto and his team are a real achievement. Catching squid in flight is extremely rare and all agree that flights “happen so quickly.” “You really have to be in the right place in the right time.”