This is the 15th year of continuous daily publication for 365Caws. All things considered, it's likely it will be the last year as it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to find interesting material. However, I hope that I may have inspired someone to a greater curiosity about the natural world with my natural history posts, or encouraged a novice weaver or needleworker. If so, I've done what I set out to do.
Sunday, June 17, 2018
Yakking About Bioluminescence
Day 247: Quoting Wikipedia, "Noctiluca scintillans, commonly known as the sea sparkle...is a free-living, nonparasitic, marine-dwelling species of dinoflagellate that exhibits bioluminescence when disturbed...Its bioluminescence is produced throughout the cytoplasm of this single-celled protist, by a luciferin-luciferase reaction in thousands of spherically shaped organelles, called scintillons." And that was the basis for an outfitter-run kayaking paddle into the Nisqually Reach and McAllister Creek from 8-11:30 PM last night. I got home at 1 AM, still sparkling with the thrill of having completed one of my Bucket List projects: witnessing bioluminescence with my own two eyes.
We set out from Luhr Beach just before sundown, ten clients in five tandem kayaks and the outfitter (a biology researcher) in his single. We shot about a mile out into Hogum Bay, and then as darkness settled over us, we turned inland, paddling a hundred or so yards off-shore toward McAllister Creek. Sam (the outfitter) knew what to expect, and naturally sighted the first glints of bioluminescence long before anyone else did, but within ten minutes of his first announcement of the phenomenon, it began showing itself to the rest of us. At first, it appeared as only a few quick sparks of light, but as the night grew darker and our eyes adjusted, the flashes became more frequent until with each stroke of the paddle, it seemed like silvery fireworks were bursting in the disturbed water, thicker in some areas, absent in others, and sometimes clumped up into larger masses. It shimmered like glitter, each flash lasting only a microsecond. Sam explained that each single cell stores only enough energy for one flash per day, and that the organism uses the effect as a "burglar alarm," protecting itself against one predator by luring a larger one to eat its pursuer.
A lot of what Sam related as we paddled through the field of seaborne "shooting stars" pertained to the history of the area: the settlement, the agriculture, the politics. I contented myself with watching the fire in the sea, dancing beneath the water's surface. I've never been much for human history. It seems so dull when placed alongside the wonders of the natural world.
The bioluminescent effect grew in strength as the night deepened and as we paddled back to our starting point, each stroke of the paddle was outlined in a milky glow and ripples of light followed. Sometimes a single star-like glint would linger on the paddle blades, or on our fingers as we trailed them in the water. Then as we approached the boat ramp, the phenomenon appeared to dwindle as artificial light assaulted our eyes. No doubt the sparkle was still present, but as with so many things, the influence of Man dominated, repressing the magic of Nature.
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