A moving visit to the Monterey Bay Aquarium – Monterey Herald

Even asleep, we’re in movement. Breath comes out and in. The guts beats. We toss and switch. And consider the numerous methods we cross distances in our desires. We will run and soar over impossibly large gulfs. Effortlessly, we are able to transfer in the way in which many people want we might when awake. Asleep, we are able to fly! In my desires, nonetheless, it’s not the freedom and loft of flying that I want for. Slightly, solely then can I transfer suspended, comfortable and free from restraint by means of water. Solely then can I swim like, properly, a fish.

To fulfill my curiosity in regards to the methods animals who reside within the ocean get round, I arrived on the Monterey Bay Aquarium for an early morning go to. There I used to be greeted by senior biologist Mary McCarthy, curator of fish and invertebrates and Erica Kelly, director of exhibition content material. How and why do Large Seabass, sardines, jellyfish, octopuses and extra get from place to position? Plenty of the animals’ motivation for transferring is, no shock, to get one thing to eat or to not develop into any person else’s one thing to eat.

In what methods can these animals transfer that people can’t? An octopus can spit water as a type of communication, to repel undesirable company, to help motion and to interact in play. And wouldn’t you want to have the ability to squirt ink to foil an enemy? As a author who has spit ink greater than as soon as, I’d certain prefer to have that inbuilt skill! Octopuses can change not solely the colour of their pores and skin with a purpose to disguise but additionally the feel of their pores and skin!

Earlier than this current go to, what I liked greatest on the Aquarium had been the jellyfish. No shock, proper? Watching them, I’m reminded of ballet dancers in pink tutus, of clouds at sundown, and of open parachutes descending. Watching the jellies swish motion causes my cares to dissipate, and I obtain a much-desired sense of being unburdened. With my ft firmly on the ground, it’s as if I too am floating with my head below water.

An enthusiastic scientist, McCarthy is a strolling Aquarium encyclopedia. Information about what we’re seeing is intrinsic to her, and, fortunate for us, McCarthy likes to share it. Watching a college of sardines swimming altogether, one goes rogue, altering path, then recognizing its folly, the little fish turns round and joins the opposite. McCarthy tells me there isn’t essentially a pacesetter although this group of swimmers jogs my memory of bicycle racers.

“Are they drafting?” I ask. “A little bit,” McCarthy solutions. “Fish have a lateral line with hair cells, tiny sensory hairs, that are triggered by pressure, so that’s one way they can tell what’s happening around them. That lateral line is how they keep track of their neighbors.”

“The finlets that small fish have,” McCarthy tells me, “help them to be fast. Big fish like seabass don’t need them because they don’t need speed.” Clearly, the seabass on the opposite aspect of the glass has rank right here. He’s in no hurry to go anyplace. Although the downturned look on this one’s face jogs my memory of my grandfather’s expression when disgruntled, I’m certain this well-fed seabass isn’t displeased, simply rightfully proudly owning his house.

On the Aquarium, in fact, it’s not solely the ocean creatures who’re engaged in motion, guests are too. Proper in the mean time, standing transfixed, wanting up on the fish, as I’m making an attempt to restrain myself, McCarthy says, “It’s interesting to see how people relate to the animals. Sometimes people will lie down at the sardine roundabout and just watch them.” Observing the fish in perpetual movement is compelling, getting the chance to witness what, throughout the open ocean itself, few of us get to.

Although I’m impatient to see and study extra in regards to the jelly fish, and we do get there, first we head over to go to the Nice Pacific Octopus. There he’s in full view, swimming in his tank in a relaxed method, stylishly extending leg upon orange leg. That is magnificence in movement. Whereas standing there, I develop into enraptured, and my life adjustments. Yeah, that sounds a bit dramatic, I do know, and it’s not like one thing monumental transpires, however a giant, delicate factor does.

By permitting himself to be seen figuring out we’re watching him, to not retreat right into a hiding place, and to look at us, the octopus conveys a way of consciousness and curiosity— consciousness, maybe. This high quality of presence is greater than what I’d seen when viewing any of the fish, and greater than I might have anticipated. Even having examine octopuses and watched films about them, I’m mesmerized by this creature, by his nearly variegated orange coloration, so many legs with so many extra sucker cups, the convenience and class of motion, the massive bell and (am I reaching too far?) expressive, attentive eyes.

I’ve misplaced a way of time, have momentarily practically forgotten about my guides and no matter else the day might subsequent maintain. This expertise causes me to recalibrate my sense of place on the planet. A lot of life’s that means comes from relationship — the moments once we expertise reference to one other, know empathy and respect, the instances we see and really feel seen. It’s not that I really feel acknowledged by the octopus; it’s that I sense I’m seeing this creature in his being-ness. To name this witnessing the “identity” of one other species, one fairly completely different from my very own, could be a stretch. However perhaps not. In spite of everything, what do I do know? I’m solely human.

Del Rey Oaks author and poet Patrice Vecchione is the writer of a number of books together with, most not too long ago, “My Shouting, Shattered, Whispering Voice: A Guide to Writing Poetry & Speaking Your Truth” and “Step into Nature: Nurturing Imagination and Spirit in Everyday Life.” Her titles can be found wherever books are offered. Extra at patricevecchione.com