CHAPTER II.

THE METEORS OF THE SEA.

As the rushing comets dim the brightest luminaries with their radiance,

so the ocean meteors, the moving _medusæ_, seem to excel in the glory

of their light.

The sea-jellies are among the commonest forms of the seashore. In the

summer months the silvery sands are strewn with their glassy disks;

unattractive then, but, once launched and imbued with life, possessed

of many beauties of form and color. They range in size from those

almost invisible to the naked eye, to giants weighing, it is estimated,

over a ton. Many have a complicated structure; yet, in nearly all, the

solid parts of the animal rarely represents over five per cent of the

whole; and in specimens of a familiar northern kind, _Aurelia_, 95.84

is water. Little opportunity for light in such a creature, one would

say; yet the simple jellies are numbered among the chief illuminators

of the upper region of the ocean. I have observed them in the

Atlantic, the Pacific, and in the Gulf of Mexico, in waters of various

degrees of temperature; but, perhaps, the finest exhibition of their

phosphorescence was seen off Boon Island, on the coast of Maine. The

ocean surface seemed fairly bespangled with these living gems, which

appeared surrounded by a halo of light. Each tentacle seemed to glow

with an intense white heat; and, at a short distance, the streamers

resembled delicate lace, wrought in curious designs. Peering into the

depths, they appeared everywhere, moving in all directions, surrounded

by the mysterious light whose office it is difficult to conjecture.

[Illustration:

PLATE III.

LUMINOUS SEA JELLY.

(_Thaumantius._)

PRUNING-KNIFE FISH.

(_Zanclus._)

LUMINOUS CORAL.]

The vast numbers of _medusæ_, and their importance as light-givers,

may be realized from the remarks of Giglioli, who states that their

light was seen from the “Magenta” over an area of forty-four degrees

of latitude, and for nearly thirty consecutive days. During the day

they sank into the greater depths, at night rising to the surface, and

appearing like moderator lamps. With their long groups of tentacles

trailing behind as they pulsate through the ocean waters, they readily

suggest the title, “Meteors of the Sea.”

With few exceptions, the sea-jellies are light-givers. The giant

_Cyanea_,--one of which was measured by Mrs. Agassiz, and found to

be nearly six feet in diameter, and to have tentacles over one hundred

feet in length--emits a pale, greenish light; and, if the entire mass

is luminous, it must present a wondrous appearance as it moves through

the water, like a gigantic meteor. As large as this giant is, weighing

many hundred pounds, it is produced from a delicate little creature

which would hardly be noticed by the casual observer.

One of the commonest forms along the New-England coast is a diminutive

jelly,[4] seemingly blown in glass by some skilful worker. As it moves

gracefully along, it emits a light of a deep aurelian blue, vast

numbers imparting a metallic glitter to the water.

On some calm night, about a rocky point where the current flows

silently along, myriads of these wondrous forms may be seen passing

in review. Peering down into the depths from our boat, we may see a

pretty, shapely jelly-fish, called _Zygodactyla_, a golden _ignis

fatuus_ of the ocean waters; the _Melicertus_, another of the same

family, surrounded by a golden radiance; and a stately _Rhizostoma_,

which Giglioli observed in fresh or brackish water in Batavia, emitting

a fixed, bluish light; while _Zina_, _Coryne_, _Eucope_ and _Clytia_,

and a host of other exceedingly pretty sea-jellies, add to the glories

of the scene.

The delicate _Thaumantius_ (Plate III., Fig. 3) and Oceanea are

resplendent light-givers. The latter, according to Ehrenberg, being

“surrounded by a shining crown,” while _Pelagia_ illumines the deep sea

by its mystic rays.

Although we have established a rule to refer the most of the technical

names, with the more scientific matter, to the Appendix notes, we are

yet inclined to retain in the text, occasionally, some names which are

especially attractive. Thousands of marine animals have no other name

but the generic ones given them by discoverers; but in many instances

they are pretty, and there is no reason why they should not be used,

as they must become the common name of the object, as well as its

technical one.

Other known light-givers are recorded in the Appendix,[5]--all forms of

the greatest delicacy and beauty.

Of a brilliantly phosphorescent form,[6] Professor Alexander Agassiz

says, “When passing through shoals of these _medusæ_, ranging in

size from a pin’s head to several inches in length, the whole water

becomes so wonderfully luminous that an oar dipped in the water up to

the handle can be seen plainly on dark nights by the light so produced.

The seat of the phosphorescence is confined to the locomotive rows;

and so exceedingly sensitive are they, that the slightest shock is

sufficient to make them visible by the light emitted from the eight

phosphorescent plates.”

[Illustration:

PLATE IV.

LUMINOUS SEA-JELLY AND MOLLUSK.

_Beroe forsakii._ _Cranchia scabra._]

Professor Agassiz also states that the _Lucernaria_[7], a handsome

green sea-jelly, emits a peculiar bluish light of an exceedingly pale

steel color. While all these forms are beautiful individually, their

combined forces produce an array of splendors hardly to be described.

Such pyrotechnic displays of Nature are best observed during the

autumn, when the jellies are wrecked and stranded; the waves hurling

them in, and grinding them up upon the rocks, which appear bathed in

warm, lambent lights.

At Spouting Horn, on the New-England coast, this luminous water

is forced through a small chimney or crevice in the rocks, with a

reverberating roar; sending skyward a column of gleaming water, that

breaks in mid-air and falls in golden spray. In drifting along in

a boat at this time, every movement of the oar produces the most

astonishing results. A slight splash is followed by a blaze of light.

By having a companion keep up a continuous motion of the water, I have

almost been able to read the print of a newspaper by the light of

these disintegrated forms. One of the most striking displays of this

phenomenon I have ever witnessed was at the little port of Ogunquit, Me.

Returning, one dark night, from an off-shore fishing excursion, I saw,

as we approached the harbor, an irregular row of lights, apparently

lanterns in the hands of friends. We hailed, and not until we were

nearly in the surf were we undeceived. The rocks were lined with kelp;

and, when the waves came in, the glowing, sparkling mass of _medusæ_

caught upon the weed, remaining, as the water left it suspended,

a blaze of light, until the next wave broke. My companion, an old

fisherman, had also been deceived by the lights; and we drifted there

for some time watching these strange spectres appear and disappear.

The _medusæ_ differ in their methods of illumination. The _Obelia_, as

a free-swimming disk, is non-luminous; but the stem, or trophosome,

out of which it is developed, has a fluctuating light extending up and

down its surface. In many _medusæ_ the light appears to be confined to

the upper portion of the umbrella, to the tentacles, and to the margin

of the disk; but if an oar is thrust through it, or a freshly stranded

jelly is torn and cut upon the sand, every portion seems to become more

or less luminous.[8]

The little jelly-like creatures called “comb-bearers,” or Ctenophores,

are nearly all wonderfully phosphorescent. Instead of moving as do the

ordinary jelly-fishes, they have rows of comb-like paddles which move

up and down in regular measure as they float along. In the daytime the

little fins gleam with gorgeous iridescent hues; while at night they

are brilliantly luminous, even the eggs and embryos of some emitting

light.

The _Beroë_ (Plate IV., Fig. 1) is the most familiar, but the

Pleurobrachia is the most graceful. Drummond refers to these forms in

the following lines,--

“Shaped as bard’s fancy shapes the small balloon,

To bear some sylph or fay beyond the moon.

From all her bands see lurid fringes play,

That glance and sparkle in the solar ray

With iridescent hues. Now round and round

She whirls and twirls; now mounts, then sinks profound.”

[Illustration:

PLATE V.

VENUS’ GIRDLE.

(_Cestus veneris._)

_Phillerhoe._]

So vast are the numbers of these and other light-givers in the northern

seas, that the olive-green tints of the waters are due to them in the

daytime. Mr. Scoresby, finding sixty-five of them in a cubic inch of

water, summed up the interesting calculation, that, if eighty thousand

persons had commenced at the beginning of the world (he refers to the

popular, not geological, reckoning,) to count, they would barely at the

present time have completed the enumeration of individuals of a single

species found in a cubical mile.

One of the most remarkable of the Ctenophores is the “Venus’ girdle”

(_Cestus veneris_), Plate V., Fig. 1. In shape it differs from all

others of the class, as a comparison between it and the Beroë (Plate

IV.), will show. It resembles in the daytime a silvery ribbon, or

girdle, two or three feet in length, moving through the water by

contractions of the body, rather than by the rows of combs that are

found upon the edges. So delicate is this fragile creature, that it

is almost impossible to remove it intact from the water. The mouth is

in the centre, or equidistant between the ends; and on each side of

it depends a short tentacle protruding from a sac. Opposite the mouth

there is an otocyst, or sense-body. The combs, which are so conspicuous

in other forms, are not so noticeable here, yet are well defined; and

when moving along, and propelled by these gentle undulations, the

_Cestus_ is one of the most beautiful objects of the sea. At night

this wonderful sea-ribbon develops a new charm, emitting, according to

Giglioli, a reddish yellow light of singular brilliancy.

The Ctenophores, from their phosphorescence and great numbers, offer an

interesting field for study. _Pleurobrachia_[9] may be found in myriads

upon our eastern shores in the autumn. _Idya_[10] attracts immediate

attention by its wondrous coloring, having a deep roseate hue. After

death, its phosphorescence appears to be intensified, and much of the

phosphorescent display is due to it. In nearly all the Ctenophores the

light is erratic, flash succeeding flash, and seeming, according to

Giglioli, to reside along the zone covered by the vibrating _cilia_, or

little paddles.

In the interesting group of animals known as _Physophoræ_,[11] or

bubble-bearers, we find many light-givers of most remarkable form,

in their structure reminding one of delicate objects in glass; and,

according to Giglioli, all are more or less luminous. In the harbor of

Gibraltar, he observed several beautiful forms, as _Abyla_, _Diphyes_,

and _Eudoxia_; and in the Atlantic, in the latitude of Rio Janeiro,

_Vogtia_, _Praia_ (Plate VI., Fig. 2), _Abyla_, and _Eudoxia_ were

constantly encountered. These are all so fanciful in design, that they

appear to be veritable fairy ships freighted with color-tints and

gleams of light. Their luminosity is not scattered over the entire

body as in many sea-jellies, but seems confined to fixed points, as

in _Eucope_, a specimen of which, observed in the China Sea, seemed

studded with brilliant emeralds, which appeared as marginal knobs at

the base of the tentacles. In the Pacific, several species of _Diphyes_

have been observed, their zooids[12] brilliantly phosphorescent; but

the hydroids of this group, so far as known, are not luminous.

Many beautiful phosphorescent jellies can be observed, as we drift

along, by using a small glass cylinder. With the finger pressed upon

the top, lower the open end near the little creature, then remove the

finger, when the jelly will be drawn into the improvised aquarium. If

the night is dark, the play about its delicate form will be found a

rare study.

Darwin refers to the beauties of the phosphorescent jellies observed

on one of his collecting-tours. He says, “While sailing a little south

of the Plata on one very dark night, the sea presented a wonderful and

most beautiful spectacle. There was a fresh breeze, and every part

of the surface which during the day is seen as foam now glowed with

a pale light. The vessel drove before her bows two billows of liquid

phosphorus, and in her wake she was followed by a milky train. As far

as the eye reached, the crest of every wave was bright; and the sky

above the horizon, from the reflected glare of these livid flames, was

not so utterly obscure as over the vault of the heavens.... Having used

the net during one night, I allowed it to become partially dry; and

having occasion, twelve hours afterward, to employ it again, I found

the whole surface sparkling as brightly as when first taken out of the

water. It does not appear probable, in this case, that the particles

could have remained so long alive. On one occasion, having kept a

sea-jelly of the genus _Dianæa_ till it was dead, the water in

which it was placed became luminous.... Near Fernando Do Norhona, the

sea gave out light in flashes. The appearance was very similar to that

which might be expected from a large fish moving rapidly through a

luminous fluid. To this cause the sailors attributed it; at the time,

however, I entertained some doubts, on account of the frequency and

rapidity of the flashes.”

To Spallanzani is due the credit of first calling attention to the

phosphorescence of the jelly-fishes or sea-jellies; he having observed

it in the Mediterranean jelly, _Pelagia phosphorea_, which is luminous

over its entire surface. He subsequently made some interesting

experiments with _Aurelia phosphorea_, a jelly-fish similar to one on

our coast, and came to the conclusion that the _light-emitting_ organs

lay in the arms, tentacles, and muscular zone of the body, and cavity

of the stomach; the rest of the animal showing no luminosity. The light

seemed to proceed from a viscous liquid, a secretion which oozed to the

surface. One _Aurelia_ that he squeezed in twenty-seven ounces of milk

rendered the whole so luminous that a letter was read by the light,

this being one of the first practical results of the investigation of

marine phosphorescence. Humboldt experimented with _Aurelia aurita_,

and, having placed it upon a tin plate, observed, that, whenever he

struck it with another metal, the slightest vibration of the tin

rendered the animal completely luminous. He also observed that it

emitted a greater light when in a galvanic circuit.

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