Next time you go fishing, be sure to bring a video camera

Newsweek has a story about the capture of the colossal squid, and it sounds like a) there will be video footage released next month, and b) the boat captain made a good bit of money off of it.

Dolan, the Ministry of Fisheries observer, remembers being surprised at how docile and sluggish the squid was. “It really didn’t put up much of a fight,” he says. “Its tentacles were moving back and forth, but that’s about it. It certainly wasn’t grabbing crew members and pulling them back into the sea.”

As it happens, Bennett had brought along a video camera in order to film a small documentary about Antarctic toothfishing for a New Zealand TV station (that’s Chilean sea bass to you and me). He was able to capture a good bit of footage of the squid being hauled in. Bennett confirms that a production company in Auckland bought the footage, though he declines to specify what he was paid. An official with the Ministry of Fisheries told NEWSWEEK that offers to buy the footage had been pouring in and that some were “longer than a telephone number.” Bennett said that a documentary featuring the coveted footage should be released sometime in April.

We also learn about the future fate of the specimen.

Once aboard, the squid was lowered into the ship’s cargo hold and put on ice for the next two weeks as Bennett and his crew chugged 1,700 miles back to the southern coast of New Zealand. The squid remains frozen solid as preparations are being made to hand it over to the Museum of New Zealand in Wellington. That should happen on March 11, O’Shea says. But first, museum officials have to figure out how to store the thing. “The problem is we haven’t seen it yet,” says museum spokesperson Jane Keig. “We need to get it here to see how we’ll preserve it.”

That won’t be easy, says O’Shea. “We’re dealing with a 450-kilogram frozen lump of flesh. We’ve got to have a specially designed tank constructed.” O’Shea estimates that it could take up to four days for the squid to completely thaw out, a delicate process that will leave him and his colleagues only a small time frame in which to take samples and examine it. Still, those precious minutes could prove more valuable than years worth of colossal squid research. “The scientific value is enormous. It’ll more than double our knowledge,” says O’Shea, who hopes the research will shed light on the species’ hunting and mating behavior, its age and its intelligence (which O’Shea already suspects to be fairly negligible). The brain of a 275-kilogram giant squid is only about 20 grams and shaped like a doughnut, he says, “There’s not a lot of comprehension going on up there.” Might the colossal squid be brighter than its smaller cousin? “Doubtful,” says O’Shea. “In all likelihood, it’s one of the stupidest creatures in the sea.”

Now that’s just mean.

Enter the Lost World of Kent Hovind

There’s not a lot of substance to this short video, but it is a last chance to see shots of Kent Hovind’s Dinosaur Adventure Land in Pensacola, Florida. It was shut down at the time it was photographed — the poor man refused to get building permits, so county authorities closed his little ‘theme park’ — and now that he’s in jail, I imagine it will all wither away into shabby, weathered plywood and cockroach-infested abandoned shacks. At least, we hope so.

Lynn Margulis weblog tour

Here’s an interesting opportunity: Lynn Margulis, the controversial scientist, is going on a ‘blog tour’ to promote her new imprint of science books called Sciencewriters Books. What does that mean? She’s going to hang out for a little while on a few blogs and chat and answer questions. If you’ve wanted to have a conversation with the author of the endosymbiont theory and critic of neo-Darwinian theory, here’s your chance.

The tour will kick off on Monday, 12 March, at Pharyngula. She’ll be sending me a short article that I’ll post that morning, and we’ll collect comments and questions. Later that afternoon or evening, she’ll browse through those comments and answer the ones she finds interesting.

In addition, she’ll be available in the Pharyngula chat room (channel #pharyngula on irc.zirc.org; if you don’t have an IRC client, that link will let you use your browser to join in) from 12:00-1:30pm ET.

So mark it on your calendars: an online conversation with Lynn Margulis, next Monday, 12 March, at Pharyngula.

Another biologist tries to make the science accessible

Here’s a nicely focused blog: R. Ford Denison, of the UM Department of Ecology, Evolution, and Behavior, has a new blog titled This Week in Evolution, and he’s planning to put up one post each week summarizing a recently published paper in evolutionary biology. He has specific criteria:

Each week, I plan to discuss a scientific paper that meets the following criteria:

  1. published during the previous month;
  2. about some aspect of evolution;
  3. published after peer review in a journal with a citation impact of at least 1.0 (i.e., no third-tier journals);
  4. containing significant amounts of data, not just mathematical modeling or discussion.

It’s an excellent plan—check in each week!

The Calamari Wrestler

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A recent article on Deep Sea News mentions the Ritual of 365 Points—since this is such an important reference to cephalophiliacs, I thought I’d repost my summary of a classic movie that hinges on it as a plot point.

I have seen The Calamari Wrestler. It was…indescribable. I won’t even try. The basic idea, though, is that it’s about pro wrestling in Japan, with a dying wrestler who undergoes a magical transformation in Pakistan to keep him alive, which also allows him to become a super-star in the ring. He battles rivals to learn a heartwarming secret at the end.

I’ve put a few frames below the fold. Don’t try to view them as a narrative; this is a surreal movie about wrestling invertebrates.

[Read more…]

Acres of gore

The archives of Natural History magazine contain some strange old stories—like this tale from 1933, when whales were casually slaughtered, and you could write about their death throes in a popular magazine. There’s a memorable image in it, at least.

Unimaginable numbers of squids, which occur in practically all parts of the oceans, are devoured by sperm whales. The certainty of this is, of course, obvious from the bulk of the mighty foragers and the size and number of the schools engaged in an unceasing quest for food throughout all the warmer sea waters of the globe. It was indelibly impressed upon my mind, however, by an incident witnessed during a South Atlantic cruise in the old New Bedford whaling brig “Daisy.” I manned stroke oar in the mate’s boat, and on one occasion our harpooner made fast to a medium-sized sperm whale, perhaps thirty-five feet in length, which showed very little fight, and which we overtook soon after the iron had been planted. The first pricks of the terrible lance, thrust and “churned” by the mate, evidently found its life, for the whale went immediately into a flurry, swimming desperately around the boat, and rolling over and over so that the line encircled it many times. Then, while we watched its dying struggles at close range, the beast began to belch up squids. Barrelful after barrelful of the tentacled creatures, some but freshly swallowed, others in advanced stages of disintegration, floated to the surface all about our boat. Most of them seemed to have bodies a foot and a half or two feet long, but some were larger. By the time the whale floated fin-out and lay still, the slimy carcasses and fragments of squids covered the space of an acre or more.

Biology isn’t always pretty.