BOSTON, Massachusetts (20 Apr 2004) -- Do not call them jellyfish. Please. There's nothing fish-y about them. No gills. No fins. No scales. No brains or backbones, either. The correct term for these luminously locomotive sea creatures is gelatinous zooplankton. Or, to be more specific: cnidarians, ctenophores, and salps. Talking point number two: Some species sting, yet most do not. And unless you're the size of Dory the regal blue tang fish in "Finding Nemo," you're probably not in jeopardy should you run into one. Or a couple. Or several hundred, even. Point number three: The more polluted and overfished the world's oceans become, the better these animals like it. They're the cockroaches of the marine world, only infinitely more attractive. Roaches scurry. These creatures perform underwater ballet. Do call them one of the hottest acts on the aquarium-show circuit, rivaling sea dragons, living coral-reef exhibits, and pettable sharks for drawing power. No fins? No problem. These living lava lamps, with their fascinating (if alarming) ecological back story, have become marquee attractions from Monterey, Calif., to Melbourne. "Certain animals are knockout critters," Steve Bailey, New England Aquarium curator of fishes, says during a preview tour of "Amazing Jellies," a special exhibit opening today at the aquarium. "No matter where these animals are shown, they appeal to all demographics." In aquarium circles, according to Bailey, a handful of creatures are prized for their "dwell time" -- the length of time visitors linger in front of the glass. Jellies are "exceptional" in this regard, he says, which helps explain why aquariums around the world have been eager to study, cultivate, collect, and display them the way art museums mount major Impressionist shows. One indication of their popularity is the National Science Foundation having kicked in nearly $2 million for the Boston show, which has been in development for nearly two years. Spread over 5,000 square feet of the institution's West Wing Gallery and given a billboard-size marketing push, the show is expected to be a big hit heading into the summer tourist season. "Once a proven winner is established," Bailey observes, "everyone will pursue it." "Amazing Jellies" is organized into six segments labeled Beauties, Opportunists, Predators, Neighbors, Adaptors, and Survivors. Among the species on display are moon jellies, Japanese sea nettles, lagoon jellies, sea walnuts, and Blue Blubbers, a toadstool-like species found in the waters off Bali. There are interactive exhibits, video displays, hands-on models, and other educational tools designed with schoolchildren in mind, as well as curious adults. Among the show's specially designed display tanks is a 16-foot-long, cylindrical one made in Japan at a cost of $85,000. Housing Pacific sea nettles, the tank gives viewers the illusion of staring through waters hundreds of feet below the ocean's surface. | | "Amazing Jellies" could hardly come at a more opportune, if dwell-time challenged, moment, for the New England Aquarium as it tries to rebound from months of discouraging news. In March 2003, the American Zoo and Aquarium Association stripped the aquarium of its accreditation, citing fiscal and maintenance problems. A planned $125 million expansion has been scrapped and 22 staff members have been let go. Budget cuts were instituted as visitorship declined a reported 14 percent last year. Lately the news has been more upbeat. An anticipated operating loss of $1.3 million turned into a $350,000 surplus last year, and several grants totaling some $5 million have flowed the aquarium's way. Over the past two months a "small uptick" in visitors has also been recorded, aquarium officials say. "Amazing Jellies," meanwhile, is the culmination of a decades-long program to master the fine art of growing jellies locally. A 1998 exhibit titled "The Coastal Rhythms: Creatures on the Edge" included a much more modest jelly display. Staff members took note of the exhibit's popularity and began growing jellies for export to other institutions. At "jelly camp," as Bailey calls it, aquaculturists from all over the globe have been coming to Boston to learn the care and feeding of these delicate, demanding creatures. "There's a real Zen-thing" to growing jellies, says Bailey. "It's very sensitive, fastidious work, like gardening." A lot of aquariums are in the "jelly game" now, he adds. "To some extent, we've made it a business." And a beautiful one at that. |
