Day 1: Duxbury Reef

The first morning I awoke at 4AM, stumbled around my apartment making coffee, and headed for Duxbury Reef. The wind was biting and the water was utterly freezing, but the tide was way out, as promised. I actually didn’t see all that much out there, which was surprising. Maybe the surf was a bit high. Anyway, here’s my list o’ slugs and some pics.

Nudibranchs Found

1. Aegires albopunctatus
2. Triopha maculata
3. Doto amyra
4. Flabellina trilineata
5. Phidiana hiltoni
6. Cuthona lagunae

After that I headed to the Montara Lighthouse Hostel. Spectacular view, full kitchen, couches, beds, wifi, for $24. Pretty awesome. Spent the rest of the afternoon and evening reading Harry Potter and Patrick O’Brian, and playing with my photos some more.

Day 2: Bean Hollow

The next morning started with a 5AM alarm and a drive down the coast. Cafe Classique was actually open, so I tanked up on drug broth and headed for Bean Hollow State Beach, another one of my favorite spots. There I met up with John, a contact of mine from Flickr and fellow tidepooler. Bean Hollow was overflowing with life, and the weather was mild (i.e. I didn’t feel like dying by the end). Lots of cool slugs, many that I hadn’t seen since last year or the year before. Flabellina trilineata was definitely the most common one we saw, often in clusters. I even found some eggs that I think my have belonged to F. trilineata. Yay.

John knows a whole lot more about intertidal fauna than I do, and he was pointing out a lot of cool stuff I didn’t know about, like hydroids (not the same as sea pens, d’oh), the difference between strawberry anemones and cup corals (the former are red and white, the latter orange), and the absolutely insane spaghetti worm, which uses its two jillion tentacles to gather food. Fantastic morning all around. Onto the slug bill and pics!

Nudibranchs Found

1. Aegires albopunctatus
2. Triopha maculata
3. Diaulula sandiegensis
4. Rostanga pulchra
5. Cadlina luteomarginata
6. Cadlina modesta
7. Tritonia festiva
8. Dendronotus frondosus
9. Dendronotus subramosus
10. Doto amyra
11. Flabellina trilineata
12. Hermissenda crassicornis
13. Cuthona divae

Day 3: Fitzgerald Marine Reserve

Slightly later wake-up call at 6AM, and then down the coast a little ways to Fitzgerald Marine Reserve. Fitzgerald is a well-known spot, with docents and placards and the like, so there were a few other people out there on the reef, but that didn’t detract in the slightest, as there was a ton to see. I’d sent out an email to an iSchool listserv about this morning, so we were joined by a bunch of stout and sturdy iSchoolers willing to brave the icy winds and treacherous algae. All manner of sea stars were in abundance, including your garden variety Ochre Stars, Bat Stars, Six-rayed Stars, and several of the massive Sunflower Stars. The harbor seals were out as usual, some of them getting curious and swimming over to check us out. We found a massive Cabezon in one of the pools, which is a fish that looks like an algae-covered rock. Exactly like one. It took me several minutes looking through the pool before I saw it (this thing was about 1/2 a meter, and not particularly well-hidden), and even when I was standing a meter away pointing at it, people still took 10 or 20 seconds to say “That’s a fish? Oh! I see it!” Pretty cool. Slugs were out too, including the crowd-pleasing Opalescents, and some nerd-pleasing new species for me: Eubranchus rustyus and Cuthona albocrusta (both under 1 cm in length, but spectacular in close up).

Nudibranchs Found

1. Acanthodoris lutea
2. Aegires albopunctatus
3. Triopha maculata
4. Diaulula sandiegensis
5. Peltodoris nobilis
6. Rostanga pulchra
7. Cadlina modesta
8. Doto amyra
9. Flabellina trilineata
10. Eubranchus rustyus
11. Hermissenda crassicornis
12. Cuthona albocrusta

Also, I got a little scolded by the docents at Fitzgerald. I was about to jump in a pool and snag a little Acanthodoris lutea to show people (this is the one that smells like sandalwood), when one of the docents muttered, “We don’t really do that,” to the person next to her. “What I’m doing?” I asked. “Yes. It damages habitat.” “Yeah, you’re right,” I replied, and stopped what I was doing. Later, as we were packing up in the parking lot, another docent came over to us and let us know that he had been watching us from the cliff, and let us know that containers and removing things from the pool is illegal. He let us be since he figured our intentions were innocent enough, what with our cameras and generally unsuspicious demeanor, but told us that next time we should look, touch, but not remove. He was very nice about it, if a little condescending, but it touched a nerve with me. As I wrote last time, I’m trying to codify (or learn about) this idea of engagement as a conservationist and environmental ethic. For me, that involves photography and letting people have a very close look at creatures. When tidepooling, you can get an awful lot out of just sitting quietly beside a pool and watching, but there are some things, like some of the tiny nudibranchs, that you can barely see without removing them from the pool. Often times, letting a group of people see something requires putting it in a dish and passing it around. So while I agree that at a high-traffic place like Fitzgerald it’s good to have a no removal policy, I’m not sure it really supports the level of engagement necessary to fully know the rocky intertidal habitat. Of course, there aren’t a whole lot of people who want to know that habitat quite as much as I do, I guess, and perhaps my level of engagement is somewhat detrimental (although I’d say the warning on the Fitzgerald website that “You may touch marine life, but DO NOT pick it up or place it in a container. If you do they will die” is patently false (I’ve seen biologists from the California Academy of Science do it, after all, and these creatures are mostly adapted to the possibility of at least partial desiccation), and somewhat patronizing. As far as removal being illegal, that’s probably true within the reserve, but I’m not sure it’s true elsewhere. The only other time I’ve come close to running afoul of the authorities was when I met up with a Fish and Game warden, and he told me it was fine to remove things from the pools to take pictures, as long as I didn’t keep them (obviously) or move them around. Maybe I should do some research, and learn to step a bit more lightly.

I’ve been working on a similar project at the iSchool this semester called iNaturalist (check out our development site if you want to see what we’ve been up to). iNaturalist will be a community for naturalists, a place to get information about your local biodiversity, to manage and share your own observations of things in nature, and to meet other naturalists. We define a “naturalist” as anyone with an interest in the natural world, not just hardcore birders, leaders of nature walks, or bionerds like myself. I’ve been thinking about this idea for some time, and it’s been wonderful to finally work with people who agree that it’s important and are willing to help make it a reality. That’s why watching the EOL video this morning was enormously validating: other people think this is a good idea too! Important people, all over the world! Maybe a fully-formed and functional iNaturalist could even work with EOL, either through direct collaboration or exploiting each others APIs.

Watching the EOL video also reemphasized one of the reasons I think iNaturalist is important, because it’s a major difference between the two projects: we must engage nature if we are to value it enough to conserve it. Now with concision: use it or lose it. If I am an environmentalist, I am a utilitarian one. While I love museums and I think they’re important, and while I adore nature centers, guided hikes, and field guides, I truly believe that a deep, informed, lasting understanding of our connection with nature can only be achieved through direct engagement with nature, not these sorts of mitigated experiences. This does not mean going for a run in the park and appreciating a sunny day (wonderful in their own right, of course), nor does it mean touching animals at a petting zoo. I am even tempted to say it doesn’t mean going on a guided bird walk with the local chapter of the Audubon Society. What I mean by engagement is this: seeing a bug on a leaf, stopping to watch what it does, and wondering. What is it? What is it doing? I mean grabbing your fishing gear, thinking about the weather, choosing your lure for a particular fish, catching that fish, and using it in an old family recipe. Engagement is personal, direct, and literal. It’s not for everyone, but I think if more people can have such genuine experiences, nature will seem less like a pretty picture to them and more like an ineffably beautiful necessity.

iNaturalist supports that goal by facilitating people who already have this approach to nature, like bird-watchers and fishermen. By letting them manage and share observations, they’ll not only get a greater understanding of their own data, but will be able to relate it to the data of others. I think the more these data are shared online, the more people will use them to engage in the physical world. Maybe you didn’t even know a cicada really looks like, or what the shed skin of its larva looks like. Seeing someone else’s observations of such things on iNaturalist might make you more away of those things, more inclined to stop when you hear that buzzing cicada and try to seek it out. EOL, if it succeeds, will be a magnificent edifice, an achievement upon which the world can rely, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to serve the purposes of hand-written notes in the bird log or gas-pump banter and gossip. That, I hope, is where iNaturalist will be able to help.

Ok, well remember when I said I might just paste in Flickr photos? Well I went tidepooling today with Nate and Alana down at Bean Hollow, so prepare yourself:

Hopkins’ Rose (Okenia rosacea)

Flabellina trilineata

Two Humans

Also in attendence were Triopha maculata and Rostanga pulchra.

I was shooting with my new Digital Rebel and my 60 mm macro lens, but I mistakenly had the ISO set way high the whole time, so very few of my pictures came out. I was frustrated as hell when I got home and saw them, and have now vowed to make sure I take an automatic shot with the flash for every subject I have, just to make sure I have some decent artifact at the end of the day. Anyway, some pics that were semi-ok:

Olive’s Aeolid (Aeolidiella oliviae)

Cuthona abronia

Modest Cadlina (Cadlina modesta)

Lined Chiton (Tonicella lineata, a kind of chiton, not a nudibranch)

You can see more cool pics of the same guys and more at John’s Flickr page and Ron Wolf’s Flickr page.

Another fun things about the Mycoblitz was that the woods were filled with mushroom folks. Usually I’m out there poking around alone, or at least getting funny looks, but there were a bunch of people out that day. I think I’ve been getting outside with others more in general these days. I even made a birding friend that’s under 60! Remarkable. We were down in Coyote Hills this weekend and saw all kinds of cool ducks, but I didn’t bring my camera (inadequate zoom for birding, really).

FTW.

I learned a ton from my more knowledgeable companions, including a few good spots, and about Yellow Foot (Cantharellus tubaeformis, right) and Hedgehog Mushrooms (Hydnum repandum). Flowers were even starting to come out up there, including trillium, coralroot, and the absolutely ravishing Calypso Orchid (right). My appetite was thoroughly whetted for the flower season down here around the Bay. There’s even a nice stretch of rocky coast up at Salt Point, and although the tide wasn’t exactly low, we spotted a bunch of cool anemones, sea stars, and some massive abalone.

When I got back I saw both Yellow Feet and Hedgehog Mushrooms at the Bowl for about $15 / lb, so, score. A bit.

It hasn’t all been about fungus, though. I saw the little Coast Garter Snake (Thamnophis elegans) above on an especially warm day. There’s also plenty to be found under rocks and logs (some of my favorite places), like the Velvet Ant (Dasymutilla sp.), Black Widow (Latrodectus herperus), and millipede below, all found on a hike in Briones with Jessie.

And I guess there’s some warm-blooded stuff out there too, but who really cares about those guys anyway.

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ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE

I am a single white man looking for the perfect woman for fun and possible LTR. I am hot, but not intimidatingly so, normal but interesting, manly but sensitive, bad but in a good way, nice but not in a bad way, outrageously funny and spontaneous but not offensive or unreliable. My interests include hiking, driving, reading, clubbing, chilling in coffee shops, skydiving, long walks on the beach, and totally hetero dancing. I make an embarrassingly large amount of money but I drive a Prius and subsist on local organic produce that I farm myself. The only thing I like more than cooking this produce is cooking it for company. I am a former olympic athlete who hasn’t gone to seed, and I’m way above making carnal puns on the word “seed.” Unless, of course, you’re into that kind of thing, in which case I can assure you, I am a veritable silo. Of puns, that is.

Did I mention I am also black?

BUSH-HATER SEEKS BUSH-LOVER FOR CROSS-THE-AISLE SEXFEST

I am a liberal, proud of it, and I feel deeply about the many injustices this administration has inflicted upon our nation and the world. That said, I feel the only way to mend the wounds of our divided country is to build bridges, reach out, and learn from each other. So, if you believe gays should not marry, if you think abortion is always and forever wrong, if you watch Fox News, and if you stand by our President, hear me: we need to have sex. Like, right now, at the place of your choosing. Then, maybe, I can tell you about my favorite NPR newscasters, and you can tell me about your favorite rifle. You can show me how to find a deal at Sam’s Club and I can show you how to save the world AND lovingly stroke your ego simply by purchasing an organic, local, seasonal, $12 / pound peach, picked lovingly by unionized migrant laborers who get paid a living wage so they can feed their precious little children and have the time to express their beautiful, beautiful culture. Then, I think, we should have sex again.

PACIFIC SEA MONSTER IN SEARCH OF FRIEND, LTR

Just swam here from the Aleutians, looking for some company in this strange shallow Bay of yours. I enjoy vigorous exercise, travel, mackerel, and sinking ships on still foggy nights. I’m very large, but, you know, not in an unpleasant way. I hear some people are into that, anyway. And please, don’t bother writing if you’re offended by the word “monster.” Get off your high goddamn horse and meet the 21st century.

TIME TRAVELLER SEEKS STABLE 21ST CENTURY WOMAN PREPARED FOR DISAPPOINTMENT

I’m not saying *I’ll* be a disappointment. I mean, I might be, but that’s for you to decide. I’m just saying I’ve been to the future and it isn’t pretty, but frankly, neither is almost any other time in history, so I’m picking this one since it’s not far from the one I started out in, and I think I could use some company for what’s coming. Me: ok, I could tell you all about me but I have a goddamn time machine and I have travelled across all kinds of different periods and eventualities, so regardless of my personality I have little doubt our first couple dates will just concern *that* since they always do. You’ll get to know me along the way. You: preferably with enough winter insulation to last long periods without food, because, like I said, not so nice times around the bend. Proficiency butchering deer a plus, as are martial arts and a knack for fashioning and wielding weaponry from scrap metal. Ability to take a joke definitely required, because I am talking about the big, gigantic, soul-crushing, cosmic kind of jokes here.

Ok ok, this is sounding depressing, and possibly a bit cracked. But seriously. I have a time machine.

As we passed over the northernmost Ridge-and-Valley Appalachians, I wondered how the first geologists and cartographers to fly must have felt, looking down on their theories and certainties and projections writ true. What could be more vindicating? IN YOUR FACE, DOUBTERS!

Speaking of doubters, as I sat down in my aisle seat for the next stretch of my journey, the man at the window was clearly a Talker. You know this immediately. The Talker greets you, and not just perfunctorily. He smiles. I dove into my book, but he asked what it was about. I sketched the plot for him, and dove back in, but he wanted to know what I was going to do in Colorado, which lead to school, which lead to defining the iSchool, which lead to interface design, which, somehow, lead to Creationism. I had on my hands a card carrying believer. And he was not a blind-watchmaker, unseen hand kind of Creationist, this man knew, and believed his bible, cover to cover. So we talked about biology, about the age of the planet, about stem cells, about the veracity of the Bible, and, thankfully, I found that although I disagreed with him on almost every single way we approached the world, we still had a very civil, cordial conversation. We managed to boil our differences down to our approach the unknown. For me, the unknown is something to hypothesize about with sufficient data in hand, but without sufficient data, I’m fine remaining ignorant until more data arrives. He was unsatisfied with that, with the enormity of the Universe, with our inability to comprehend the entirety of even the most commonplace things, and wasn’t satisfied with tempered ignorance, so he required agency, divine intent, and belief. I thought it was fantastic that we got there without yelling at each other. He realized that the only way to break my atheism was to witness a genuine, supernatural miracle, of the burning bush, walking on water variety, so he promised to pray for God to send me one, and I thought that was great. Still waiting for the miracle, but I appreciate the gesture. Sadly, I think the only things that might shake his faith are far more sinister than combusting shrubbery. I hope he never encounters them.

In airports, I always find myself looking at the people waiting at different gates, trying to decide if they look particularly Texan, or Alaskan, or whatever. Does the Oakland flight look more Oaklandish than the SFO one? This almost always fails. Californian flights seem to have a few more Asian folk, and of course there are the accents, but otherwise it never seems to work.

For some reason, I wrote “Bob Costas Mark Hamill’s brother?!” in my notebook. I do not know why.