The Oyster’s Garter

Just a quick note that I installed a widget that lets you get an alert of a new post emailed to you. You can see a link to the feature just over there in the right hand column.

I was innocently collecting water samples when this peculiar fish started trying to snuggle:

Having no idea what it was, I ignored it until I finished my work. But it followed me back to shore, swimming just underneath my legs:

When we surfaced (the fish still with us), my dive buddy told me that my not so little friend was a remora, and that it was trying to attach to me. AIEEEEEE! Remoras usually hitch rides on sharks or turtles using the suction provided by the plate on their head. The ridges are movable and create a vacuum.

Remoras are thought to be harmless hitchhikers, eating the parasites off its host and whatever else comes by. (Somehow that didn’t make me feel any better - that remora was not so small.) There’s also some neat mythology around them. According to this website:

The ancient Greeks and Romans had written widely about Remoras and had ascribed to them many magical powers such as the ability to cause an abortion if handled in a certain way. Shamans in Madagascar to this day attach portions of the Remora’s suction disk to the necks of wives to assure faithfulness in their husbands absence.

The ancient Romans actually attributed the death of Emperor Caligula to Remoras. They were believed to be fastened onto his ship, holding it back and allowing the enemy ships to overtake it.The Latin name Remora actually means “holding back” (McClane 1998).

Apparently remoras do sometimes attach to divers. Is this because of the drastic decline of shark worldwide, and especially in the Caribbean? Was my remora lonely and desperate? Is this a remora shifting baseline - shark & turtle riders now forced to ride mere divers? Or did my remora and I just have a special moment? Since the remora a) didn’t speak English; and b) swam back out to sea once I got out of the water, the mystery remains.

Perhaps I’ve had too much sun, but I feel that I can only properly thank Rick for his latest That’s a Moray Monday in limerick form.

In the field, the Net’s hard to find,
My blog reading falls far behind.
But today I did see
Rick’s sweet tribute to ME!
And my encounter with the moray kind.

Oh woe! For Rick’s time I did waste!
By typing away in great haste,
I wrote the wrong common name
I quiver in shame
Next time I will cut and paste.

But the goldentail moray’s so fine,
I’m flattered that Rick thinks it’s mine,
For Gymnothorax miliaris
Is definitely the eel I saw - is
My rep for invert love on the line?

Screw inverts, into backbones I foray,
Because it’s the Goldstein-tail moray!
In gold, black, or spots
This eel’s toothy and HOT
Who could ask for anything more, ay?

Diving in the morning, and processing samples into the night. I have learned it takes 2 1/2 hours to pump 20 liters of water by hand, and another 2 hours to scrub 10 tunicates. I am a tunicate scrubber, and a bad and naughty blogger. Though now I have two hands to do it with!

Sorry for this totally bragging post, but Miriam’s 2007 post on why it’s difficult to photograph the North Pacific Gyre and why it will be difficult to clean it up is a reference for the Wikipedia entry on North Pacific Trash Heap. I just think that’s awesome.