(via TOLweb)
(via TOLweb)
Squid don’t just make sperm: they package it up into fairly elaborate little torpedoes called spermatophores, which are either handed to the female with a specially modified arm called the hectocotyl arm, or squirted onto her with a penis. Once on the female (or a male, it really doesn’t matter), the spermatophore everts, forming a structure called the spermatangia, in which all the packed sperm uncoil, ready to do their job, and the whole mass is anchored to the target with a cement body. These structures do show species-specific differences, but here is one example from Heteroteuthis dispar.
Now the curious observation: squid are often captured festooned with spermatophores and spermatangia, and in many cases, the spermatangia may be imbedded deeply into the musculature of the animal — so it’s not simply as if the spermatophores are lovingly placed in an appropriate orifice, they are piercing the female (or the male, again, they don’t care that much), tearing deep into the interior. The question is, how do they get in there?
A few simple observations have revealed the answer. Spermatophores can be triggered by a gentle squeeze, at which time all of their fertilization machinery will fire. Here are some photos of some spermatophores going to work on a squid carcass.
(Read the caption carefully. That’s a human triggering sperm to ejaculate into a dead male squid. It’s gay necrophiliac bestiality! You don’t see that in the papers every day.)
The answer is that spermatophores also release digestive enzymes and actively burrow into the target tissue. Squid sperm show an aggressive persistence and vigorously active assault on the female body that our own pathetic human emissions lack…I feel a little inadequate, but I’m sure women are a bit relieved.
Another interesting observation is the function of the squid penis. It seems to be less an intromittent organ than a kind of hose to direct the ejaculations onto the female. In natural situations, unlike the photographs above, it is responsible for initiating the spermatophore reaction. Each spermatophore has a threadlike extension of a surrounding membrane, and tugging on that triggers the reaction. It’s like a squad of paratroopers leaping out of a phallic airplane, each attached by a static line that yanks the rip cord as they emerge.
Hoving HJT, Laptikhovsky V (2007) Getting under the skin: autonomous implantation of squid spermatophores. Biological Bulletin 212: 177-179.
(from Mark Whittaker’s personal collection of dive photos)
Put them on the first step to a lifelong obsession, and let them play with the Build A Squid game on the Te Papa Museum website. It’s very easy and very cute.
(from Strugnell, JM, Rogers AD, Prodo PA, Collins MA, Allcock AL (2008) The thermohaline expressway: the Southern Ocean as a centre of origin for deep-sea octopuses. Cladistics 24:1-8)
So you’ve got a 30lb. squid. What are you going to do with it? Follow along with the photo guide and turn it into something delicious.
It’s December, and Squidmas is coming. Maybe you’re like me, and the kids have all moved out, so you’re thinking having a little intelligent life at home would be nice. Or maybe you’re kids are still home, and you think they’d love a pretty pet. Or maybe you just love cephalopods, as do we all, so you’re thinking, hey, let’s get an aquarium and an octopus! What a fun idea!
One word of advice: NO. Don’t do it. You can’t just rush into these things.
Here’s a positive suggestion, though. Start reading TONMO, the octopus news magazine online, regularly. If you haven’t been reading it already, you aren’t worthy of owning a cephalopod anyway. If you start dreaming about tentacles, then maybe you can consider feeding your obsession by planning to get a cephalopod of your own.
Second positive suggestion: buy a copy of Cephalopods: Octopuses and Cuttlefishes for the Home Aquarium(amzn/b&n/abe/pwll) by Colin Dunlop and Nancy King. This is essential. All in one place and in a very practical way, it describes all the important information you’ll need to successfully keep a cephalopod in your home, and it may discourage all but the most fervent. Here are a few of the reasons you should not try to keep cephalopods, gleaned from this book and my reading of TONMO.
They are difficult to raise. You will need a well-maintained salt water aquarium, which with all the apparatus required can be quite expensive, and you will need to invest a fair amount of time every day in maintenance. This is a job for a serious aquarist.
They need live foods. What this means for most of us is that you’ll need two tanks — one for the octopus and another to raise the octopus’s food.
A cephalopod’s life is one of heart-breaking brevity. They do not live for long, even in the wild, so no matter what, you’re going to have a pet funeral every six months to a year.
There are few species that you can keep. Most can’t live in the confines of a tank, a few are very dangerous, and many are rare, and it would be unethical to strip natural environments of these precious specimens.
It will eat just about anything else you try to put in the aquarium. The cephalopod and its food will be the only creatures you will have.
Forget keeping one as a pet—a cephalopod in the house is your Lord and Master, and you will serve it everyday. Forget those silly ideas that this will be your little pal, it is going to rule you.
If you aren’t yet discouraged, then you know your proper place in the universe and can consider getting a cephalopod. In order to figure out how to do so, you will first have to buy this book: it contains all the information you will need to proceed. Plus, it’s beautifully illustrated with photographs of the beloved class, so you’ll enjoy reading it, and it therefore makes an excellent Squidmas gift. Then what you may do is purchase a salt-water aquarium and supplies, but at first you should only raise something boring, like damselfish. Master the art of maintaining a stable aquarium for at least a year, and then you may consider obtaining a cephalopod for it. Conceivably, then, you could have one for next Squidmas. But don’t even dream of it yet.