PALM BEACH, Florida (5 Aug 2004) 'Below the thunders of the upper deep; Far far beneath, in the abysmal sea... His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep The Kraken sleepeth; faintest sunlights flee About his shadowy sides: above him swell Huge sponges of millennial growth and height; And far away, into the sickly light, From many a wondrous grot, and secret cell Unnumbered and enormous polypi Winnow with giant fins the slumbering green. There hath he lain for ages, and will lie Battening upon huge sea-worms in his sleep, Until the latter fire shall heat the deep; Then once by men and angels to be seen, In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die. A 16-year-old boy named Alfred Tennyson wrote this imaginative picture of sub-sea life, which wasn't published until 1830. He wasn't Lord yet, he wasn't England's poet laureate yet. He was never a diver. Scientifically, it's a mess. Tennyson thinks sponges grow like oaks and that squids and octopuses (polypi) have "giant fins." But the poem is still anthologized and remains a scary, magnificent mind-picture of what lies beneath the mysterious sea, "below the thunders of the upper deep." The Kraken itself is some sort of primeval monster, whale-like, asleep in the depths of the ocean, sucking in "sea-worms" for breakfast, lunch and dinner, waiting for the Last Judgment, when divine fires shall boil the sea and bring him bellowing to the surface, to die. The Kraken is modeled after the Leviathan in the biblical book of Job. Divers had to hold their breath, breathe through reeds or pipes, or wear 200-pound suits until 1943, when Jacques Cousteau invented the "aqualung." The first underwater photos were taken by W.H. Longley in 1923 off the Dry Tortugas, using primitive equipment. Today, the underwater realm of the ocean is like a much-visited, short-rental hotel. We can go there easily, but the clock is ticking all the time, and we must check out promptly or pay a late fee with our lives. It is a realm we can only glimpse. We cannot linger overlong in it or dwell in it permanently. The Palm Beach Post's John Lopinot is our Resident Amphibian. While the rest of us were melting in one of the hottest summers on record here, Lopinot sought the cool, cerulean spaces beneath the ocean's glassy ceiling and brought back rainbowed trophies. They have names as magnificent as their colors: The green moray eel is Gymnothorax funebris, meaning "the murderous naked-chested creature." | | The scallop-headed hammerhead shark, one of the most curious-shaped creatures on earth, has had its name misspelled in most scientific literature. It should not be Sphyrna zygaena, but Sphyra zygaena. "Sphyra" means "hammer" in Greek. The shark's name means "dreadful-joined hammer-creature." The hawksbill sea turtle has a pretty name, too: Eretmochelys imbricata, "the shelled Paddler with Roof Tiles on its Back." The porcupine fish is Diodon hystrix, "the Twin-Toothed Hedgehog." The manta ray is Manta birostris, "the twin-prowed manta," because it seems to have two big steering prows on its head. Manta is from mantichore, which goes all the way back to Aristotle's De Animalibus. It describes "a fabulous monster having the body of a lion, the head of a man, porcupine's quills and the tail or sting of a scorpion." The manta ray's stinger-tail obviously scared and impressed the ichthyologist who first named it. It still stings today. But why plunge into dictionaries when you can see the astonishing realities themselves, living in liquid crystal, as far apart from us as it is possible to be? All life on this orb originally came from the sea. Here are a few postcards from the Old Neighborhood. Allison Paladino of West Palm Beach swims over a manta ray in the waters off Palm Beach. These large rays typically grow to 14 feet from tip to tip (some have been recorded as long as 22 feet) and cruise near the surface of ocean waters, filtering plankton. Their enlarged pectoral fins give them a disc-like shape, used for swimming, much as birds use their wings for flight. A porcupine fish peeks out of an elephant ear sponge on a reef off Riviera Beach known as The Bluffs. This fish can grow to 3 feet long and usually lurks in recesses on the reef. A member of the puffer family, it can inflate itself and erect long spines all over its body when disturbed. A loggerhead turtle lies among gorgonians off Palm Beach. These turtles nest in large numbers on local beaches, although researchers say the turtles' nest numbers are down this year. Gorgonians look like plants but are actually colonies of animals attached to rock on the bottom. They feed by extending polyps that catch plankton floating by. A scalloped hammerhead shark swims away after eating a fish on the surface. This large shark was found just off Palm Beach in about 15 feet of water. It is considered an oceanic fish, but it sometimes cruises the shallows. It is wary of divers and generally moves away when approached, but sometimes makes a close pass. It is considered dangerous, especially in the vicinity of spearfishing activities. A green moray eel pokes out of a hole on the South Double Ledges reef off Palm Beach. This common eel can grow to 8 feet long and hides during the day in recesses. It forages in the open at night, and it constantly opens and closes its mouth for respiration — but many think this action is a threat. SOURCE - Palm Beach Post |
