Look at that cute face! We are thrilled to announce that sharks have finally made it into our photo contest winner’s circle. Congratulations to Michel Labrecque for this wonderful picture of a charismatic blue shark, taken off the Rhode Island coast. If you’ve been reading our blog over the past year you know we love to celebrate the really big fish in our ocean, and Michel has captured this inquisitive shark with grace and beauty.
According to Brian Skerry, blue sharks are especially cooperative subjects, and will often come peer into his camera lens. He says, for the most part, they have always been very polite (unlike the “hyper and jacked up” makos – who he loves diving with nonetheless).
The blue shark in this picture does seem very curious. And I know you are all curious, too, about when there will be more sharks! Wonder no more – according to the Shark Week 2013 Countdown Clock, we only have 95 days to go!
Do you have a great photo of New England’s oceans to share? Enter our photo contest! Each month, Brian Skerry will lead our team of judges to select a winner, who will receive a copy of Brian’s book Ocean Soul.
Entering is easy! Explore New England’s oceans, take some photographs and then share them with our online community on Flickr™. All you need to do is add your photos to the New England Ocean Odyssey group and tag them “PhotoContestNEOO”. Find out more here.
This fish looks like it was designed by Stephen King, with its angular gaping mouth, needle-like teeth, and beady eyes. Imagine your reaction if you were enjoying a refreshing dip in the ocean then you looked down and saw that face staring up at you. I pride myself on surfing with the sharks in the bracing New England ocean, but seeing that crazy face by my feet might just leave me unhinged for a minute. These fish range throughout the North Atlantic, and as far south as Florida, so I know they’re around.
Really, though, your odds of encountering a monkfish are very low and if you did, they probably wouldn’t attack you. They usually hang out on the ocean floor, where they lie in wait, lure in prey with a filament-like “esca” that sprouts from between their eyes, and snatch up whatever unfortunate little fish happens to show interest.
I would really love to see some Crittercam footage of a monkfish swimming up from the dark, cold depths and rushing a cute little unsuspecting puffin. Pow! Like a shark attack, but smaller and uglier. I’m going to be thinking about this the next time my feet are dangling off my surfboard (although researchers think the puffins were diving down 10 or 20 feet when the monkfish nabbed them). Still – as if the shark anxiety wasn’t bad enough.
Monkfish are also called goosefish, bellyfish, allmouth, and lawyer (that last one seems a little harsh).
These fish have been found almost 3,000 feet down.
They can eat things larger than they are, and are not very picky. Cod, lobster, and birds are all fair game.
Monkfish was not considered marketable in the U.S., until a government funded marketing campaign convinced people they were missing out on something that Europeans had been onto for a while.
Julia Child and a large monkfish. Copyright 2000-2007 Getty Images, Inc. [Steve Hansen/TimePix]
While monkfish have yet to show any interest in eating us, we do seem to enjoy eating them. In New England alone, commercial landings have averaged 35 million pounds a year since 1990. Hopefully this important and unique Gulf of Maine dweller will be able to withstand the fishing pressure that is now upon them. Given the state of collapse of our cod fishery, healthier bottom dwelling fish stocks are being increasingly targeted to help sustain the fleet. This sort of action might backfire if populations of monkfish and other groundfish begin to plummet as the cod have, leaving fishermen with less and less. Worse, there are pressures on groundfish other than fishing, like warming seas and ocean acidification, which make it important that we set some habitat aside for our ocean ecosystems to adapt and build resiliency to our changing environment.
As odd looking and voracious as monkfish are, they are an important part of our New England ocean ecosystem. I hope that our fisheries managers and researches keep tabs on monkfish populations so we don’t imperil this true ocean oddity. Especially since I haven’t seen that Crittercam footage yet.
If you’ve been following New England Ocean Odyssey over the last several months, we’ve introduced you to some pretty remarkable fish found in the Gulf of Maine—from color-changing flounder to vivid sea ravens to reclusive Atlantic wolffish. But the ocean sunfish can definitely compete with any of these creatures for the title of strangest-looking fish in New England.
Even aside from their huge size, these fish look unusual. Their extended dorsal and pectoral fins mean they can be even taller than they are long. Their tail fin is folded in on itself to create a bulky appendage called a clavus, creating a stubby, round shape that has led German speakers to call them Schwimmender Kopf, or “swimming head.” Mola mola also share some features with sharks, like the dentricles that cover their skin instead of scales and their protruding dorsal fins that can scare swimmers and boaters. They swim slowly and awkwardly by gently moving these fins back and forth.
As unusual as adult ocean sunfish are, juveniles are even stranger. Baby sunfish are iridescent and covered in protruding spikes that disappear as the fish mature (ocean sunfish are closely related to puffer fish).
Sightings of Mola mola are relatively common in the Gulf of Maine in the summer months. Part of the reason they’re so easy to spot is that they spend a lot of their time lying sideways on the surface, basking in the sun.
Unfortunately, the time ocean sunfish spend near the surface also means they are vulnerable to certain types of fishing gear, like gillnets. They also frequently suffer from eating plastic bags they mistake for jellyfish, one of their favorite foods. Despite these problems, Mola mola populations appear to be stable, and hopefully these strange fish will be a common sight in New England’s waters for many years to come.
For more information on ocean sunfish, check out this great TED Talk!
This is not what I planned to talk about on Earth Day this week. But last week was tough. The tragic events at the Boston Marathon last Monday turned into a long and difficult week here in the Boston area. My family and friends are taking this hard.
Yesterday my husband and I were struggling to fill the last day of our kids’ spring break with something resembling a vacation. An errand to drop something off at my office in downtown Boston turned into a last minute trip to the New England Aquarium (which is one of the 6 million reasons why I love living here, by the way). My husband and I followed the kids to the entrance in a fog, then found ourselves getting drawn in to the sea life exhibits all around us.
We watched our children become totally engaged with the shark and ray touch tank. We saw a bamboo shark laying eggs, wrapping the large egg cases around a pole. When we found out there was a display with live shark eggs, and you could see the baby shark moving around inside, we forgot everything else for a while. You can see one of the eggs, an epaulette shark, above. It is so beautiful.
These egg cases are sometimes called “mermaid purses.” I have seen them on the beach before, but I’d never seen one with a shark in it. It seemed like a miracle to see that tiny little shark just getting its start in the world.
A giant Pacific Octopus at the New England Aquarium.
We also saw the giant Pacific octopus playing with a big green ball (I know the picture is blurry, but it’s still pretty cool). It looked like it had been chewing green gum and blew a huge bubble. We watched the sea turtles in their temporary home in the penguin exhibit, and saw the sea lions sporting and frolicking like puppies in their pool.
A close encounter with a New England Aquarium mascot gets a smile.
I’m not going to say we feel completely better, but for a couple of hours we forgot everything except for the cool stuff we got to see. My youngest son even got to hug a giant sea turtle. Since it was the last day of spring break and we’d had a tough week, we decided to have ice cream for dinner. In celebration of Earth Day, mine was green.
Earth Day is not just about terra firma. The ocean provides way more habitable space on the planet than the land does. It should be called Planet Ocean (as one of my ocean heroes, I can’t remember which one, has said). It provides us with around half of the air we breathe, regulates our climate, and gives so many of us the food on our plates. And yesterday, for my family, the ocean provided a welcome distraction from a very sad time.
As we move on with our lives, let’s all try and remember what special things we have to love, to take care of, and to enjoy. And make sure to take some time to check out a live shark egg if you have the chance. It might make you feel better about the world.
This story starts with a state fisheries employee out fishing on his day off. Three miles off the coast of Gloucester, he stumbled on a large group of spawning cod on an otherwise nondescript gravel sandbar. Recognizing the opportunity to study this unusual group of fish, researchers later returned to install passive acoustic monitoring equipment.
This underwater laboratory works in two ways—first, it records the sounds cod in the area make (cod vocalize by inflating and contracting their swim bladders, making faint grunting noises that can be difficult to hear on a recording). Second, it picks up information on the location of individual cod that the researchers catch and tag with acoustic signals. This monitoring has allowed the scientists to track where male and female cod are over time, at what depth they’re swimming, and when they’re making noise.
The scientists also discovered that cod tend to spawn near the surface—potentially to avoid fishing gear dragged along the bottom.
While this information about spawning behavior is interesting on its own, it could also have even bigger implications for the way we protect our cod populations. Now that scientists know what a group of spawning cod sounds like, researchers can scan the ocean—potentially with self-propelled robots equipped with microphones—to locate previously undiscovered spawning sites. As scientist Sofie Van Parijs told theCape Cod Times, “Killing them where they spawn is a great way to drive a species to extinction.” Finding groups of spawning cod could help fisheries managers create temporary or permanent areas off-limits to fishing to protect these fish when they’re at their most vulnerable.
Scientists believe this technology could be similarly helpful for cod, but there are some challenges standing in the way of putting it to use. First, there is limited funding for more research. Second, there is currently no set way to include this information in fisheries management process, so scientists will have to work closely with managers to see if it can be considered when setting up new areas closed to fishing. Lastly, the oceans are noisy. Between all the sounds made by other marine animals and the deep rumbles of commercial boats, it can be difficult for microphones and scientists to hear the noises cod make.
If these problems can be resolved, the quiet grunts of cod could mean a big step forward for the conservation of this depleted species.