RED FISH, BLUE FISH With a wide variety of techniques, scientists are working to take a good look into the sea. Nicholas Makris
and his fish-tracking research group at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology recently unveiled a sensor that can observe
10,000 square kilometers at a time over the continental shelf.
Older tracking systems for fish could cover just 100 square
meters at a time. Those systems gave only rough ideas of the size
of huge fish clusters that moved, spun off satellites, split, fused,
and swerved this way and that. In a test off the coast of New Jersey, the new tool detected what may be the largest fish school ever
recorded in one image, the researchers report in the Feb. 3, 2006
Science. It covered an area the size of Manhattan and included
some 20 million fish.
On a very different scale, fish biologist Tracey Sutton has been
considering the rare fish that he has pulled out of collecting nets
lowered to the deepest waters of the
Mid-Atlantic Ridge. Based at Harbor Branch Oceanographic Institution in Fort Pierce, Fla., Sutton has
cruised on census expeditions along
almost the entire length of the ridge.
“It’s a beautiful place,” he says.
There he found tubeshoulders
that when prodded squirt blue, luminescent clouds out of tubes on their
shoulders. Sutton speculates that a
fish living in velvet-black darkness
might use a sudden blue glow to illuminate prey or to startle a predator.
On the ridge, Sutton found 10 or
20 tubeshoulders at a time instead
of the one or two tubeshoulders that
have shown up in samples from deep
water elsewhere. He suggested at the
Ocean Sciences conference in Honolulu last year that these supposedly
nomadic loners gather at seamounts,
which may be spawning grounds.
Sutton also collected hundreds of normally hard-to-find stoplight loosejaws (Malacosteus niger). These fish emit red light from
a comma-shaped patch beside each eye, one of the few animals
known to glow red. Despite having big fangs and a jutting jaw, the
stoplight loosejaw feeds mostly on little crustaceans about as difficult to subdue as alphabet soup.
“I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why it would do that,” Sutton says. In the past 2 years, though, he and several other biologists
have concluded that the wimpy diet of these loosejaws supplies
them with the materials for the eye pigments that let them see red.
Seamounts and ridges may attract other deep-sea species that
otherwise would be widely dispersed, Sutton speculates. If so, as
state-of-the-art fishing fleets push into deep frontiers, fisheries
managers need to watch out for damage to such exotic creatures.
The census is finding where fish aren’t as well as where they are.
Sharks don’t seem to frequent the ocean’s abyss, below 3,000 m,
say Imants G. Priede of the University of Aberdeen in Scotland and
his colleagues. They looked at world-wide fish-sighting records
and their own sampling data from five cruises in the northeastern
Atlantic. Shark species ply the waters down to 2,000 m, they report.
In the depths though, sharks rarely appear, although bony fish live
there. Sharks are “apparently confined to about 30 percent of the
total ocean,” the researchers reported in the June 7, 2006
Proceedings of the Royal Society B. That puts all of them within the reach
of fishing fleets, so “sharks may be more vulnerable to over-exploita-tion than previously thought,” the researchers concluded.
LITTLE GUYS Gauging the diversity of smaller creatures isn’t
necessarily straightforward under water. The tropics have long been
hailed as rich in species, yet sea spiders may be most diverse in, of
all places, Antarctica. “Some of the most amazing species live there,
like those with one or two extra body segments,” says Claudia Arango
of the Queensland Museum in South Bank, Australia.
The sea spiders, or pycnogonids, arise from an ancient lineage of arthropods and look like their sister group of terrestrial
spiders. The sea spiders have some social skills, such as male
parenting, Arango notes. She says that she’s looking forward to
using samples collected from census expeditions to clarify sea spiders’ evolutionary history.
The census also stumbled upon a new species of the so-called
Jurassic shrimp. To the trained eye, like that of the creature’s discoverer Bertrand Richer de Forges, that shrimp looks impossibly
ancient, as if a small, pinkish dinosaur had come to life.
Crustaceans such as this may have given rise to modern decapod crustaceans, including lobsters and crabs as well as shrimp.
Scientists had assumed that the
lineage went extinct some 50 million years ago. But in 1908, a U.S.
research vessel in the Philippines
caught a single shrimp that
belonged to this group. This living
fossil sat generally unnoticed in a
museum of the Smithsonian Institution for 67 years before two
French scientists recognized what
it was. Biologists have since collected only about two dozen more
specimens.
In October 2005, Richer de
Forges of the Institute of Research
for Development in New Caledonia
led a cruise to the Coral Sea as part
of the Census of Marine Life. A collecting net slowly trawling a rocky,
uncharted surface at a depth of
400 to 500 m brought up another
shrimp with the ancient characteristics. “We immediately recognized
the very special shape,” Richer de Forges says.
He described it as a new species in the March 31, 2006
Zoosys-tema. Since then, another systematist has given it a genus of its own,
and it’s now called Laurentaeglyphea neocaledonica.
Even smaller animals are providing surprises for the census,
says Russell Hopcroft of the University of Alaska, Fairbanks. He
studies zooplankton, animals that are weak swimmers and so
are swept along with ocean currents. In this category, there’s
“incredible diversity,” Hopcroft says.
The group includes members from at least 15 or so animal
phyla, the big categories just below kingdoms. “It’s much easier
to find new species than it is to find time to work up the descriptions,” says Hopcroft.
For example, one cruise in the Arctic doubled the known diversity of comb jellies there, from 5 species to 10. Comb jellies have
the same diaphanous look as jellyfish but aren’t closely related to
them. Ranging in size from a few millimeters to perhaps a third
of a meter for rare oceanic species, they move by beating rows of
tiny paddles and prey on other jellylike animals.
When Hopcroft goes on a cruise, he makes special efforts to collect frail plankton with filmy tissues. Jellyfish may be the most
widely known examples, but plenty of other kinds of sea animals,
such as salps, have jellylike bodies. To find them, Hopcroft drags
an extrafine mesh, extra gently, through the water.
His photographs of a typical catch show translucent shapes
shimmering under artificial lights. The creatures range from a few
millimeters to a few centimeters in length and may be shaped like
barrels, bells, or bananas with wings. Few people have seen even
preserved specimens, Hopcroft says, and even fewer have seen
them moving naturally.
HOPCROFT
FOOT WITH WINGS — The snail Cavolinia uncinata
swims with its foot’s two broad flaps.