The other night we set out to test one of those alternative hypotheses. Klaus from Sweden wanted us to do this. So we did (this guy is an awesome scientist. Ignore his ideas at your own peril. Actually, layperson, Jeff, had the same idea, and that brings up another point about alternative hypotheses. If more than one person brings them up, you’d best listen.
Anyway, these guys asked whether the same lobsters that refuse to eat sea hares are still interested in eating something tastier. If they are just being subordinate, or spooked, maybe they won’t eat anything. Let’s offer them a juicy shrimp after they say pass on the sea hare.
Although the dive was still in the black of night, it was nevertheless a very pleasant thing. We went off the lab dock. No getting the boat ready, with running lights, radio, float plan for Gerry, anchor problems, etc. Just drag our gear down to the dock and jump in. The three of us are only out here on the same day once per week. We took advantage of this to do an operation that really is best done with three divers.
Dan carried the camera and red light. John carried the bag of sea hares. I carried the juicy shrimps in a water-tight bag (I guess I’ve got the least number of years to live if the shrimp-eating great white should appear). Thus, John presented sea hares, I presented shrimps, Dan filmed the mayhem.
Down we go. John spies a bug, moves down to the bottom, and presents a sea hare. Lobster attacks, John floats up, Dan moves down for a close-up. After 10 sec, Dan moves up, and I move down with the shrimp. This operation is orchestrated without words, in three dimensions, completely improvised. Spontaneous movement in three dimensions. We were deep enough (30 feet), where you can control your buoyancy by breathing. Take a somewhat deep breath, and you slowly rise off the bottom. Take shallow breaths and you sink down. The cool thing is, this is not just showing off. John noticed a few weeks ago, and I’ve now seen it too, that lobsters often spy the bioluminescence when you kick your fins or make any other movements, and shy away. So don’t kick down to get into place, let out a long breath, and empty your lungs instead. This is tricky. You can’t hold your breath (this risks getting an air embolism and a consequent underwater stroke), but instead only inflate your lungs a little bit, then let it way out. Yoginis can do this easy, I guarantee you. But it’s a bit tricky for the rest of us. Anyway, presentation 1: lobster eats sea hare, lobster eats shrimp. Not test there, but still nice to know.
Second presentation, lobster didn’t pounce, but then John scared it trying to “make sure”. He pushed the sea hare onto the unwilling lobster a little too aggressively. It tail-flipped out of the picture.
Third presentation, no pounce. Perfect presentation. John backs out, I breathe out, and descend from above. The only light is the red one Dan is using to film the action. I watch the lobster’s antennae; they aren’t allowed to touch me (or the gig is up). Drop my shrimp in front of it. Lobster pounces, starts to eat. All the lights go on. We need to document the white shrimp in the red lobster’s mouth. He eats it right up, oblivious to the light. This is the same oblivion we see after lobsters start to attack and eat sea hares.
Needless to say, this was all pretty cool. Lobster says no to sea hare, yes to shrimp. After the first couple of presentations, I was so excited I somehow LET GO of my bag of shrimps. Damn, where did it go? Swimming around looking for it. Dan and John start to figure out what I’m doing. Not sure if the bag sank or rose, but it is gone. I give the thumbs up signal, which means go up, not ‘isn’t life fine’? We float on the surface while I swear and apologize, apologize and swear. Why didn’t I bring two bags in case this might happen? Now what do we do? Allright, goddamnit, let’s swim back to the dock. Fifteen minutes back to the dock. The boys laze there, while I walk the half-mile uphill in my wet suit (I imagine what it must be like to be a navy seal or Sean Connery) to the apartment and bring back another zip-lock bag of shrimp. Of course, I’m so flustered, that I just remember to bring one bag back.
This scant hour delay seems to take many hours. I’m really pissed at myself, and wondering if my incipient Alzheimer’s has really started to set in. Ok, get our gear back on, and down we go.
Start our three-dimensional dance.
I’m really back to enjoying it again. Being underwater with your trusty research mates. Spy a beast, wiggle your light at your mates, over they come, all lights off, red light coming on means Dan is filming, starting the dance. We present shrimps to several more sea-hare-spurning lobsters. All of them eat the shrimp. I’m pretty excited. I’ve got the next shrimp in one hand, the bag of remaining shrimp in the other. John presents the sea hare, no response, then he gets out of the way. As I move in I notice that he left his sea hare behind. I pick it up as I go to present the shrimp. Lobster eats the shrimp. Yay! Another one.
But wait. I’ve got the Aplysia in the same hand I used to carry the bag of shrimp, but now no bag of shrimp.
Again! Oh, no!!
Then I turn. John hands me the bag. He had watched me drop it. We both snort a laugh underwater.
Come up in time to make dinner and get to bed by 1AM.
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