The 2017 wolf eel wrangle is underway! Seattle Aquarium staff members are systematically performing annual check-ups on the Aquarium’s wolf eel population, looking at the condition of wolf eels’ teeth and gums and measuring their lengths, weights and girths.
In addition, aquarists are updating the wolf eels’ database identification photos, looking for spot patterns and unusual blemishes or scars—and this year, they are passive integrated transponder-tagging (or PIT-tagging) each individual fish. This process involves inserting a tiny chip, which can easily be scanned and read digitally, under the skin of each wolf eel. This will aid in tracking the animals as they progress through different exhibits at the Aquarium. Aquarist Angie Deccio says this reminds us that “our wolf eels are considered non-releasable by Fish & Wildlife because most of the younger ones are captive-reared.”
Although their maximum lifespan is not known, wolf eels are estimated to live at least 20 years. According to Angie, “Some of the recent animals we have lost had their otoliths counted and were estimated to be about 19 years old!” (Otoliths, also called “ear stones,” are hard structures made of calcium carbonate, located just behind the brains of bony fishes. Otoliths have rings that can be used to estimate fish age—similar to rings on a tree.)
With the new PIT tag system, tracking the youngest wolf eels with hatch dates will aid in documenting more exact captive age ranges.
A few fun facts from the first week of wolf eel check-ups:
Average length: 5 feet
Average weight: Approximately 20 pounds
Total number of wolf eels currently at the Aquarium: 14
Age of oldest known wolf eels in the Underwater Dome exhibit: Approximately 15 years old
Want to learn more about wolf eels? Check out our animal fact sheet, then plan a visit to the Seattle Aquarium!
What are the slightly odd-looking (yet enormously cute) fish that could be described as resembling swimming golf balls in the Aquarium’s Puget Sound Fish exhibit? They’re Pacific spiny lumpsuckers, Eumicrotremus orbis, and the last word in their name is derived from two interesting features.
First, the “lump” part: these fish don’t have scales. Instead, they’re covered by cone-shaped plates, called tubercles, which give them their distinctive, lumpy appearance—and also serve as excellent camouflage from predators.
As for the “sucker” part, their pelvic fin is modified to form a pelvic sucker disc, which they use to adhere to rocks, eelgrass and kelp. Pacific spiny lumpsuckers don’t have a swim bladder and are generally weak swimmers, so their sucker disks serve an important function in helping them resist the strong pull of marine currents.
Pacific spiny lumpsuckers are found in shallow bays at depths up to 500 feet, from northern Washington to the Bering Sea, along the Aleutian Island chain to Siberia and northern Japan. Their maximum recorded length is about five inches, but they usually average between one and two inches. Because they’re so entertaining to watch, they’re a favorite of recreational scuba divers—but they’re usually seen only during the winter months.
Come see and learn more about Pacific spiny lumpsuckers at the Seattle Aquarium!
Emmy-award-winning producer of science documentaries Jeff Renner recently hosted the first of our 2017 Sound Conversations events, devoted to Rialto the rescued sea otter and the Seattle Aquarium’s partnership with The Seattle Times in telling the amazing story of his rehabilitation. Below, Jeff shares a recap of the evening. Interested in our upcoming Sound Conversations events? Details and registration here.
It looked like a soggy brown rag discarded on the beach by a careless hiker. But as wilderness ranger Joseph Alcorn approached, he saw the ‘rag’ was moving—it had a head, a tail, four paws and it was shrieking. ’It’ was an infant sea otter—just weeks old, struggling and barely alive. The National Park Service ranger felt certain the tiny otter wouldn’t survive much longer. He called the Washington Sea Otter Stranding Network, which began searching for rescue facilities. Call after call failed to find assistance, until the Seattle Aquarium responded.
Upon first inspection, the Aquarium staff biologists and veterinarian felt the little sea otter had little chance of survival. But as days passed, Rialto—named for the beach on which he was discovered—began to put on weight and gain energy. The transformation was stunning; so stunning that Rialto soon earned the nickname “He Who Will Not Be Ignored.”
It was an amazing story, and it captured the attention of Seattle Times environmental reporter Lynda Mapes and photographer Alan Berner. The human interest aspect of the plucky little otter’s recovery was undeniable. He moved the hearts, the compassion of all who saw him. But Mapes and Berner also saw the remarkable story not readily apparent to Seattle Aquarium visitors: the story of the behind-the-scenes scientific expertise that supports both ground-breaking research and animal rehabilitation. And there was the important marine conservation message exemplified by Rialto. That’s why The Seattle Times decided to go “big” on the story, just as the Aquarium went “big” on the little otter’s care. Both efforts represented considerable investments of time, money and passion.
Lynda and Alan shared this remarkable story as the first guests at the Seattle Aquarium’s Sound Conversation series on March 2. It was like sitting next to Lynda at her newsroom desk, or as a photographic assistant to Alan. Both shared their professional approach, their perspectives, and yes, even their growing sense of affection for this compelling little pup. What emerged from the work of Mapes and Berner, and the stories they shared during the evening Sound Conversations, was the larger importance of expanding our understanding of the health of sea otters along the Washington coast, and the important role they play in the health of our ecosystem.
Although Rialto has moved to a permanent home at the Vancouver Aquarium, his brothers and sisters in the wild act as an important check on sea urchins, a favorite food. Uncontrolled, sea urchins devastate the kelp forests that serve as an important habitat for fish, and absorb part of the impact of waves, protecting sensitive beaches and shorelines. The award-winning work of Mapes and Berner stimulates us all to discard quick answers, to take a more considered view of our environment, to question whether short-term gains truly offset long term costs…and to be more critical consumers of information in this age of “alternative facts.” Lynda Mapes summarized the need well: “We don’t share our toothbrush, because we know we need to watch what goes into our body. We also need to watch what goes into our mind.”
Expect to have your mind “stretched” a bit by our next Sound Conversations guest, writer Jonathan White, on April 6. This Orcas Island resident has travelled the globe, from the Northwest to China to France to the Arctic and back, all to piece together the complex story of tides, featured in his critically acclaimed book, Tides: the Science and Spirit of the Ocean. It’s a story that profoundly affects each of us, and in more ways than we can imagine. The impact and origin of tides has engaged some of the greatest scientific names over the ages, including Aristotle, Copernicus, Kepler and Newton. You’ll learn more about their work, successes and yes, failures.
Think tides only affect the oceans and coastal environment? Not true. The tides impact water well inland, our atmosphere, solid earth and even our own bodies. Jonathan will share colorful stories and examples of each of those impacts, as well as the important effect most familiar to us—along our beaches. The Northwest Coast Native peoples have a saying: “When the tide recedes, the table is set.” The ebb and flow of the tides is fundamental to the flourishing of shellfish, in fact all aspects of our marine ecosystem that are instrumental to the health and prosperity of our region.
Jonathan will outline the impact of “future tides”—the impact of tides on the rotation of the Earth, its distance from the moon, how tides are already amplifying the effect of rising sea levels, and how they are beginning to serve as a potential source of energy—clean, but not without challenges and complications.
It’s no surprise that these colorful echinoderms are also known as the hedgehogs of the sea: they’re round like balls and covered with long, movable spines. They’re also one of the most popular animals in the touch pools of our Life on the Edge exhibit. Read more about them on our website, plan a visit to the Aquarium to touch one for yourself, and learn a few more tantalizing urchin tidbits with this blog post!
True or false? Most sea urchins are venomous.
False. Most species of sea urchins have spines that are solid and do not contain venom. Some members of the families Echinothuridae and Diadematidae have sharp, hollow spines with a venom gland. Also, there are flower urchins in the genus Toxopneustus that have venomous pedicellariae. The banded sea urchin, Echinothrix calamaris, in display in our Pacific Coral Reef exhibit, belongs to family Diadematidae, and is venomous.
Which of the three species of sea urchins on display in our tide pools are commercially harvested in Washington?
Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife regulates the harvest of both green and red urchins in Washington waters. According to records, 23,798 pounds of green urchin were harvested from central and south Puget Sound in the 2016–2017 season, which is now closed. The largest harvest from last season was 170,904 pounds of red urchin harvested from the San Juan Island zones.
And which local species are NOT on display?
The white sea urchin, strongylocentrotus pallidus and the heart urchin, Brisaster latifrons. Heart urchins are the most common urchin found in Puget Sound sediment monitoring. These odd-shaped urchins are deposit feeders and have tiny pincers on the end of their pedicillariae (small, wrench-shaped appendages).
Did you know? Sea urchins sometimes cover themselves in rocks.
Why do they do this? Ask one of our knowledgeable interpreters during your next visit to the Seattle Aquarium!
Lyra Dalton is an avid beachcomber, marine adventurer and cephalopod enthusiast who has been working at the Seattle Aquarium as a youth engagement mentor and citizen science instructor for the past year, as well as doing educational programming and youth engagement at Woodland Park Zoo. She loves to share her passion for marine life, ecology and conservation with anyone who will stick around long enough to listen. A life-long resident of the Puget Sound area, she grew up more in the ocean than beside it and loves to get her hands wet sharing what she’s discovered—in the classroom, on the beach or in her writing. Below, Lyra shares her experience as an educator on a field research excursion with a group of teens.
Waking up to rain on the morning of an outdoor field trip is normally the kiss of death when working with teens. It’s a universal signal that attitudes will be bad, no one will be wearing enough layers, and you will spend the rest of the day talking in an overly cheerful voice trying to pull your students out of the depths of teenage misery. I was taking 20 teens out onto the R/V Centennial, a marine research vessel owned by the University of Washington, to drag a dredge net along a patch of seafloor and look for animals. In good weather, this is an amazing opportunity to see bottom-dwelling animals, spend time out on the water, see what field research looks like, and get a killer view of the Olympic Mountains—what educator could hope for more? In the rain, this is an opportunity to get wet and cold and then dig through freezing sludge with your bare hands.
When we showed up at the boat things were looking a little bleak. It started to rain harder and there were more teens than raincoats present. I braced for the worst, drained the rest of my coffee, and counted the attendees. To my amazement, they were all present. We headed out onto the boat in a break in the drizzle, explored, lowered the net and started to drag it. The rain started again, but as we began to bring up the net everyone gathered outside to watch, crossing the fingers and toes they could still feel that something amazing would emerge. It kept raining, and blowing wind. The winch kept malfunctioning, and the net stayed under water. As I lost feeling in my fingertips, I thought I should maybe pop inside, but a stalwart group of teens remained, watching, waiting and learning. As anyone who has been involved in field research can tell you, for every beautiful day you enjoy outside, there’s likely to be two days where it’s too hot or too cold, and things don’t go as planned. We talked about this and I found that rather than buoying my teen’s spirits, they were buoying mine. These tough Northwesterners had no problem hanging out in the rain for two hours. And when the net finally emerged, depositing a huge pile of freezing mud, they rolled up their sleeves and painstakingly dug through it.
To the people who wince a little when I tell them I work with teens and give me a pitying look, I hand this back to you. I love marine science, have been a patented science nerd for as long as I can remember, and I still felt reservations about sticking my hands into that mud—but the teens did it. They did it with smiles and enthusiasm. There was some shrieking and frozen fingers, but there were also sea cucumbers smaller than my fingernail that they pulled from the sludge. Tiny snails emerged, a baby kelp crab; they pulled out giant fish-eating anemones dripping with slime and passed them around, wondering and laughing at the gelatinous texture. They braved marine worms with rings of terrifying teeth, and carefully placed each animal into tanks for further examination. When they were done, their fingers were so cold that warm water burned when it touched them, but no one regretted a moment.
Once the boat had docked we all huddled indoors while parents arrived to pick the teens up. I looked around at my soaked charges and ventured a question, “So, what did you guys think?” Every student smiled back at me, raised thumbs up, nodded, and agreed, “It was awesome!” They loved it. If I’d said come back tomorrow, I think they would have agreed to then and there.
I work with these teens because they inspire me. Every day I get to see their passion, their drive, and their dreams for the future. I walk away with so much hope and faith in what they can, and will accomplish. Their dedication to marine science and conservation reminds me why I want to work in this field and defies every teenage stereotype I can come up with. This trip on the Centennial was just another reminder of how much teens have to offer, and how important it is that they get opportunities to learn, grow and remind us what they’re made of.
Lyra Dalton is an avid beachcomber, marine adventurer, and cephalopod enthusiast who has been working at the Seattle Aquarium as a youth engagement mentor and citizen science instructor for the past year, as well as doing educational programming and youth engagement at Woodland Park Zoo. She loves to share her passion for marine life, ecology, and conservation with anyone who will stick around long enough to listen. A life-long resident of Puget Sound, she grew up more in the ocean than beside it, and loves to get her hands wet sharing what she’s discovered, in the classroom, on the beach, or in her writing.