(S)explained

Am I the only one that gets a bit of brain squeeze looking up seaweed life-cycles? As I am sure you do look up seaweed life cycles...or just generally any reproductive cycle of any creatures, plant or animal? Well I do... we are all different and that's what makes up special, right? Anyway, even if you don't look up life-cycles, you may well have come across these terms and had to stop to translate.

I do not say (and do not intend to say) monoclinous in every day conversation. As a result, I do not remember what it means. I have had a child and as a result of that lovely experience, I have lost half of my grey matter. My daughter is my memory bank and walking, talking lovely personal organiser. She tells me what I went upstairs for and why we're in town. I cannot be expected to remember what monoclinous means when there are days when I have clearly forgotten my own name.

I plan to work at providing some simplified terms for you but in the meantime - make your own suggestions and comments. The more absurd they are the more welcome they are to grace the comments box.

Here are some of the terms that I would like to see less of:

Gonochoristic

Heteromorphic

Isomorphic

Dioecious

Gametophyte 

Sporophyte

Monoclinous

Diclinous

Protogynous

Protandrous

Monoecious.  

Androecious 

Gynoecious 

Subdioecious 

Gynomonoecious

Andromonoecious

Subandroecious 

Subgynoecious

I could go on but I won't, I have a book to write and laborious text on life-cycles to translate.

Please do comment...

Ha!  I just did a spell check and guess what? None of the words are recognised - what a surprise!

Foul bottoms and mackerel.

Recently, I was asked if I, as an ecologist, ate fish. This hasn't been the first time that I have been asked. There have certainly been times when I have questioned whether I should eat any seafood or not from a sustainability perspective. These dilemmas become even more important as you have children and you start questioning your own practise, wanting to deliver the right messages. During the winter months we rarely eat fish or seafood. We might occasionally have some leftover frozen pollack that we make into fish (slightly broken & crooked looking) fingers.  Mostly, we eat sustainable seafood that we catch and as the seasons allow.  Now in early April I can almost smell the plankton bloom in the air, which means only one thing - mackerel!

As the air temperatures warm, living on the south Devon coast our coastal community starts prepping boats for the fishing season. This might include scrubbing fouled bottoms. This is an exceptionally more interesting job than it sounds and involves mechanically removing, with elbow grease or a power hose, any creatures that have started growing on our (boat) bottoms over the cold months. It usually consists of an assemblage of algae, barnacles and odd strands of purple laver. I always hope that one year I might find something really unusual! However, a foul bottom is never a good thing. This spring there was a boat which has stayed in the water for 3 or 4 years without much attention. When this boat was taken out of the water there were enough mussels attached to her hull to feed a large wedding banquet. She would have hardly made it out of the estuary with her heavy bottom.

Now that our little community has put the time and effort into getting geared up for spring we wait to hear news of the first mackerel. I am already imagining the meaty, oily red meat of the first mackerel of the season. As they are such fast swimmers they have a lot of red meat which is packed with blood vessels. This means they can move  through the water at great speeds both towards prey and away from predators. It also makes them an incredibly oily, nutritious and delicious fish.

The first fish of the season is something to look forward to. The excitement of feeling the mackerel tugging on the fishing line, the sight of the incredible rainbow coloured skin as they surface. Followed by the taste of that same crisp skin, some of which has got stuck to the grill which hazardously lies perched on rocks over the driftwood fire. The fish tastes so much sweeter for eating with oily, sticky fingers that glint with the small scales which are stuck to your fingertips from the gutting process.

We don't have to travel to get our fish, we catch only what we need, we don't catch other fish in the process and we savour every morsel of flesh. We appreciate what we have, knowing that our lives are so enriched through the entire process of fishing. We are also very lucky to be able to live on the coast and go fishing so we make sure we make the most of this opportunity. We teach our daughter about plankton and mackerel migration. She understands why the belly of the mackerel is lighter than the top side. She knows how to gut a fish, where the gills are and she likes dissecting fish eyeballs. She is 6. She knows that if we do not do all we can to look after our coast, we will not be able to to eat food straight from nature's larder..when tide, time and weather allows!

Having the chance to catch fish, inspires me and drives me to protect our seas and oceans. I would still feel the same way if I didn't eat seafood but I remain further indebted to the sea as a result. I feel strongly that my daughter's young experience will make her recognise the value of our coast and seas almost effortlessly. This lesson is not something you can teach but something which I think experience helps to understand and that is why... "Yes, I eat (sustainable) fish as a marine ecologist."

Women in Marine Science

Yesterday, I allowed myself the treat of heading off to Plymouth to look at the books new and old, a museum exhibition on plankton and also to meet some of my friends who work at Plymouth University on marine sciences. This is a special reward for reaching my targets for the book and to allow myself some inspiration, new facts and just for personal interest.

In the Marine Biological Association (MBA)  library I came across a book on Crustaceans. It was written by, as was often the case in the nineteenth century a male vicar, - Rev. Stebbing. I noticed that the preface was written from my home town of Tunbridge Wells. It turns out that Rev. Stebbing was an eminent naturalist specialising in crustaceans with a unique streak who lived in Tunbridge Wells. He was a big fan of Darwin and as a consequence was not allowed a parish although he did preach in St Paul's, Rusthall. This just happens to be the church my Grandmother went to as a child.  In his day women were not allowed in the Linnaean Society which he was not happy about. He pushed for the acceptance of women and succeeded and his wife became the first member.

This then got me thinking about the role and place of women in science. I talked with the librarian who always has stories to tell about any topic relating to her beloved library and archives. She told me about the nineteenth century Delap sisters of Ireland who were avid marine scientists, their collection of marine letters and how one sister was not allowed to travel to work at the MBA because she was (shame of all shames!) a single unmarried woman!

There were also stories of Molly Spooner an oil spill expert who coined the phrase "chocolate mousse". Elsie Sexton who started life as an illustrator and ended up being finally accepted as a marine scientist. Today, if you were to pop your head into the canteen of the MBA you will see that the vast majority are women! I have good female (and male) friends who are very well respected marine statisticians and researchers. There are modern stories of women who have travelled to foreign countries and in order to get permissions for research have had to apply with their husband's name first, despite him being the baggage carrier not the scientist (on this occasion).

On the whole, it appears that times have really moved on. Women play a pivotal role in marine sciences today. I am wondering about what fellow (marine) scientists feel? What's your experience? Is it all positive?

"To The Oak Leaved Delesseria"

One of the wonderful things about writing the Seashore book is that it allows me the opportunity to read & research some lovely old historical books as inspiration. When I am on target with my own mini deadlines, I offer myself the treat of heading off to the Marine Biological Association to dive into their library and get lost in their books new and old.

Yesterday, I did just that. A book caught my eye, "Ocean Flowers and Their Teachings" 1846. It had a beautiful gilt illustration on the cover and some well preserved seaweed presses inside. It also had a collection of poems and thoughts about the "ocean flowers" or seaweeds.

A couple of days ago I had tweeted about my favourite Red Seaweed - the Sea Beech Delesseria sanguinea. Well, in the book of "Ocean Flowers" I stumbled across this rather beautiful poem which I had to share:

To the Oak Leaved Delesseria

Tell me, thou child of ocean,
With thy ensanguined fronds,
Nursed by the wave's commotion,
And fixed by rooted bonds:

Why is such beauty lavish'd
In caves of ocean dark,
From human vision banish'd
Such texture fair to mark?

Say, do the sea-nymphs find thee,
Thy roseate leaves unfold,
And round their tresses bind thee,
As oaken wreaths of old?

Like roses here on earth
Do they thy beauty prize,
As flowers of Heavenly birth,
Emblems of brighter skies?

Short sighted mortal, shame thee!
Don't think that beauty gleam
Where man alone must see it,
Or where he useful deems?

No brilliant hues are needed
To deck the sea-nymphs hair,
But beauty springs unheeded
Throughout creation fair.

Our God is love abounding
Has thus his mind display'd,
With beauty all surrounding
The Creatures he has made.

J.Mackness, M.D. Hastings.

A trip down memory lane with Cheshire Wildlife Trust.

In the Summer of 1987 I moved to Hoylake, on the Wirral, at the age of 9. It was a big move - we (my mother and 3 of my brothers) arrived from Kent full of excitement and nerves for our move to live beside the sea and for all the, hopefully, exciting opportunities that might lie ahead. We had gone from a busy town road in Tunbridge wells to a house not 50 metres from the beach. My mother had, on the occasion, taken us to Brighton, Hastings and other Kentish coastal spots but this was our first experience of the wild North Sea.

The very first thing that I became aware of were the huge tides at Hoylake. We would walk for what seemed like hours towards the shore over an ever expansive sandy beach. Our dogs "Gentle" and "Gates" went crazy with excitement for the chance to run in any direction and the slightly odd pleasure of rolling about on dead birds, jellyfish and any other detritus they seemed to find. We all felt incredibly free. Once there we would occasionally see Grey Seals bobbing their heads up for a closer inspection of this motley crew of 2 and 4 legged creatures, the smallest (me) waving crazily at them!

We would return home and later in the evening, for the last dog walk of the day, be blown away by the tide having made its way to the promenade wall - a good 2km in distance. This was my first very real experiences of tide and it was here that I became aware that I was a tiny part of a great big huge world that had forces exerted upon it by things you would never believe - the moon in the sky thousands of miles away.

I also soon realised, thanks to my science teaching mum, that the tides would offer us great days out - for free! On the right tidal times, we would make our way from Hoylake along the beach to West Kirby, "mud skating" on the way wherever possible. Once near West Kirby we could make our way out to "Little Eye", over to "Middle Eye" and to our final destination - Hilbre Island. If we had gauged the tide times right - we could stay over there over high tide and watch these mammoth tides engulf the shores of this small island.

Once we reached the shores of this trio of islands we would explore the rockpools and find beautiful little shells - one of which my mother informed me shared my name (almost) "Mya". We'd find crabs, mussels and cockles desperately trying to dig their way in to the sandy substrate with their "foot" before me and my brother Will would, innocently, try to grab them tight with their foot still extended.

On the main island we would walk up the slipway to find houses, a small lighthouse and a path to the most exciting Northward point of the island. We would make our way to this tip which was still surrounded by sea. Once here we would expectantly look to the sea for any sightings of the seals which we often saw from the shore to the North of where we now stood. Soon if not immediately we would see the slopey heads of the grey seal - pop up and I was sure, in my small mind, that they recognised me. If I looked towards the Welsh coast I could see the sand bank which supported a small colony of a couple of hundred lounging seals.

This was my first experience of the sea and it was from those memories and experiences that I developed a love for the sea. I wanted to know so much more about this watery world and I was determined to do just that. Fourteen years later I found myself being invited to lead a guided walk to Hilbre Island for Cheshire Wildlife Trust. It was such an exciting opportunity to go full circle and revisit the birth place of my love of the sea. So I found myself talking to children about the creatures that we were finding on Hilbre Island. There was one girl who had aspirations to be a marine biologist and it was wonderful to see her enthusiasm for all things marine!

One of the things that really struck me is that sometimes it is easy to forget as a "grown up" what inspires children. When in Devon, on my rockpool rambles we see wonderful creatures and such a huge variety of species. The water is clear and the chances for inspiration from snorkeling through crystal clear waters, surfing on crisp, clean waves are pretty vast. But I often forget what simple things can and do engage children.

Hilbre is an incredibly beautiful place with a fantastic array of sea birds and waders and seals. There was a moment when I looked at the rockpools and thought to myself, "there isn't much here". I had to stop myself from going down that adult thought process and remind myself of my 8 year old self - how excited I was to see mussels, crabs and cockles. The fact was that I had an inspirational lady (my mother) to show me all the wonderful creatures and explain them to me and the reality and power of nature are a very mind blowing thing for a small child. For a moment, I might have thought my Devonshire rockpools were more interesting but in reality they are no less inspiring than any other coastal spots no matter what their condition.

Honeycombe Reef at Hilbre Island - a BAP priority species, Mussels and Sea Lettuce.

The steps up from the seal look out point at the tip of the island.

3 young children get inspired & spot seals!

River Dee at Sunset

It was fantastic to meet the families from the Wirral and to meet the Cheshire Wildlife Trust crew and see all the fantastic work that they are doing both on Hilbre and Wigg Island in Runcorn. It was also a great opportunity to remind myself what inspires children...and return to Hilbre once again.

Wear Blue, Tell Two on June 8th

June 8th is World Ocean Day. This is a day to reflect on all that is marine and be thankful for all that the ocean offers. It's also an opportunity to look like a smurf or just wear a stylish HRH Kate Middleton-esque blue frock...whatever rocks your boat on World Ocean Day. http://worldoceansday.org/?page_id=36

The key to the "wear blue, tell two" is to spread the word that is "ocean". There are so many things that we owe to the sea and so many reasons why we have to protect it. As well as being the source of all life - it's enchanting, it's a source of minerals & our climate and much of our global protein. I am pretty obsessed with the sea - it provides me with everything I need in life and more. It may seem like another world but you are in contact with the seas and oceans with every life giving breath you take.

Here's a few facts for you:

1. Over 70% of global atmospheric oxygen is produced by plankton - the phytoplankton.
2. Plankton is the primary source of life in our oceans.
3. Plankton created the White Cliffs of Dover.
4. As plankton decomposes over time and pressure it creates oil (to it's own demise)
5. The ocean absorbs Carbon dioxide as well as produces Oxygen
6. If we lose saltmarshes, seagrass beds we reduce the potential for absorption of CO2
7. c. 71% of the Earth's surface is ocean
8. The deepest part of the ocean is the Mariana Trench at c. 11km deep
9. The Gulf Stream flows 300x faster than the Amazon
10. c.90% of oceanic life occurs in the first 10m - the photic zone (where sunlight can penetrate easily)
11. The Blue Whale is larger than any known dinosaur with a heart the size of a car
12. Fish is the main source of global protein - the only source for many island communities
13. c. 80% of people live within 60km of the coast
14. Plastic kills! There are few species exempt from the impact of plastic - up to 1 million sea birds & 100,000 sea mammals.
15. Barnacles have the largest penis relative to body size in the Animal Kingdom
16. Once the barnacle has made use of his penis - it falls off.
17. Crabs moult their shells
18. Sharks and rays lay eggs called "mermaid's purses" - some are spiral shaped - ouch!! (Horned Shark)
19. Dog whelks drill holes in to mussels to eat their flesh..
20. Starfish can lose their arms and regenerate them!

That will do for now as a sample - I've left a variety to choose from - friendly for young, old or twisted. Or look up your own - find some great facts and leave them in the comments. If you wear blue & tell two - take a photo & tweet me! I'd love to see & hear your fishy tales! Spread the word...

The mystery of the Sailor's Whistle...

Some of you may remember that I spoke about the "Sailor's Whistle" on the Autumnwatch film I presented in in 2010. The "whistle" is made from the bladder of a wrack - egg wrack ideally as they are larger - the bladder wrack produces a totally serviceable whistle but more of a fiddle...

First of all a little marine biology - why do seaweeds have bladders? Well, seaweeds need sunlight to photosynthesise. When the tide is in and the intertidal rocky area turns into a marine forest of swaying seaweed "branches", some seaweeds have evolved to maximise the potential sunlight harvested by making sure it is held high up in the water with these little "bubbles". The gas filled bladders act as a floatation device like a child's armbands!

But, in true human fashion, we found good purpose of these bladders - to make whistles. I had heard that Egg Wrack also had the name, "Sailor's Whistle". So, I diligently collected bladders and tried a variety of holes in a variety of patterns and positions...to no avail. But a lovely lady responded with an email to tell me her Grandfather used to make them!

So the answer is incredibly simple - make one hole in the bladder and blow across it like a flute & voila we have a "Sailor's Whistle". Perhaps there are other versions of "whistle" but I like the simplicity of this version! When I run rockpool sessions & find detached weed, I can now nibble a little hole and produce a little "tweet"...