Having spent most of the morning on board the Kaharoa, I decided to accompany
the Discovery Channel film crew over to the NIWA lab this afternoon where they
were going to film Steve O'Shea as he dissected the most recent giant squid specimen-
the one that we hauled through the streets of Wellington in the boot (trunk) of
Steve's car last week. Although it had only been a few days since I had last been
immersed in squid guts, I figured that a chance like this doesn't come along all
that often so I had better seize the opportunity. However, as we drove along the
Wellington waterfront, we noticed a large crowd of people gathered near Queen's
wharf all shouting at the top of their lungs. We soon realized that today was
the last round of the Wellington dragonboat races and that it might be the perfect
event to catch on film.
For anybody who has not seen a dragonboat, they are very long, very narrow,
and very fast boats holding twenty very strong paddlers sitting side by side.
I believe they originated in Hong Kong. In the bow is a drummer beating out
the rhythm for the paddlers, and standing in the stern is the helmsperson with
a long sweep oar doing his best to keep the boat on course.
Making our way through the crowds, we managed to find a spot both relatively
free of people and with an unobstructed view of the races. Thinking back on
it now, I am not at all surprised by this because the spot they chose to set
up their very expensive camera was not high and safe on the seawall with the
rest of the spectators, but right down there on the water, perched precariously
on a pile of rocks with salt spray blowing in every direction. In addition to
carrying one of their gear bags, I made myself useful by serving as a wind and
salt spray barricade, jumping out of the way each time Peter panned the camera
in my direction.
Since we had arrived just in time for the final races, the excitement level
was at a fevered pitch and tensions were running high. Every team had their
own special, brightly colored, uniforms, with some featuring flowing pennants
that danced in the breeze. Gale force winds are a more appropriate way to describe
the conditions under which these races were held. Trying to maneuver six very
long boats into a straight line so that none of them crossed the starting line
too soon and to make sure that they were in position in the middle of their
racing lane was no easy thing to do.
A
number of boats actually
capsized and more than one sunk before it made its way to the starting line.
Once all the boats were in position, the race began. Never have I seen so much
energy erupt in such a small amount of time--with perhaps the possible exception
of a space shuttle launch. The boats literally burst out of their starting positions
and moved with remarkable speed along the course. Each team's fans cheered,
drums pounded and the race announcer called the play-by-play over the public
address system. It was quite an experience and one that I am very glad to have
witnessed firsthand.
As we were packing up the camera gear before finally heading off to the NIWA
lab, I spotted something that seemed to have come from another time. It was
large, black-hulled sailing ship steaming into the harbor, silhouetted by the
hills of Wellington. I later learned that the ship was a local sail training
vessel named the Spirit of Adventure.
When we finally arrived at the NIWA lab at 5:30 in the afternoon, Steve had
the giant squid arranged on one of the large dissecting tables. This squid,
Steve told us, was a small (1 meter mantle length, approximately 30 kilograms
in weight) but fully mature male that was filled with spermatophores.
Without getting into too many details, I did learn that spermatophores are the
long white, rod-shaped
structures with spring-like coils at one end, that are used by males to
transfer sperm to females during mating. The spermatophores burrow into the
female and find their way to the eggs which can then be fertilized.
To demonstrate that it is not just Architeuthis that are found in a condition
like this, Steve brought out a pail that contained a relatively small species
of squid named Moroteuthis. The writing on the pail said "Moroteuthis, oversized
mature male". I am not sure as to the scientific protocol used for describing
specimens, but in this case we all agreed that it was certainly quite accurate.
After the interview was over and the film crew had packed up their gear and
headed off to the hotel, Steve and I stayed behind to finish cleaning up the
lab and to prepare the squid for preserving. Yet again I found myself up to
my elbows in squid as we carefully slid the squid into a large blue plastic
tub and placed it once again in
the boot of Steve's car. We used the squid to hold
open the door to his lab while he went in search of the breathing masks
that we needed to wear before we could go into the formalin-filled room where
we had placed the other squid last week.
After
donning our masks we entered the room and removed the lid of the coffin-like
tank. Through my mask, Steve could hear me gasp as I saw once again the squid
that we had measured before. I had forgotten how large it was, literally filling
the entire tank. Steve carefully placed the squid in the tank. The new one,
including arms, was barely as large as the other one's mantle. Thinking again
about the largest known recorded squid being almost sixty feet long, I began
to think that perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea that I was not going to be able
to get to dive to the depths of Kaikoura Canyon in the Deep Rover after all.