Type specimen of Cubiceps capensis in the Natural History Museum of London’s dry specimen store, which houses most of the Museum’s skeletons, skins and stuffed fishes. Many specimens in the collection are well over 100 years old. James Maclaine, senior curator of fishes at the Museum, often uses BHL when conducting research on specimens in the collection. Photo by: Kevin Webb, NHM Photo Unit.

Twitter is a popular communication channel amongst the scientific community. Scientists use the platform to communicate with colleagues and share their research findings with both other scientists and the public.[1]

Twitter may also be a valuable source of data for researchers. For example, ecologists from the University of Gloucestershire found that “Twitter-mined” data is useful for phenological studies, such as winged-ant emergence or the appearance of house spiders in the fall.[2]

Twitter conversations can also spark unexpected discoveries. For example, a recent @BioDivLibrary Twitter conversation helped uncover a connection between the scientific literature and a museum’s collections.

It began with Boops boops, a fish — commonly called a bogue — native to the eastern Atlantic. @BioDivLibrary posted an illustration of the species in response to a tweet from Deborah Paul (@idbdeb), who shared the species as an example of a name uncovered while experimenting with parsing taxon names as part of the recent BHL data mining workshop at the University of Illinois.

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Boops boops #SciArt from “A history of the fishes of the British Islands”, v. 1 (1868), in #BHLib via @SILibraries ➡️ https://t.co/A37BOVJ4Ru pic.twitter.com/HZVxA1ntoT

— BHL (@BioDivLibrary) June 18, 2019

The illustration, published in A History of the Fishes of the British Isles (1862-65), was based on a specimen collected in October 1842 and deposited in the Museum of the Royal Cornwall Institute at Truro. The text also mentions a second specimen, which was presented to the British Museum by a “W.P. Cocks, Esq.”. Paul tweeted an inquiry to see if anyone could help track down the current location of the specimen.

… and did you see this?! https://t.co/WzTtJjf6iN ~ specimen collected October 1842 ~ deposited Museum of the Royal Cornwall Institute at Truro ~ Wonder where it is now? Any help @NHM_Digitise? Who has Boops boops specimen from 1842? @ASIHCopeia @SPNHC @GBIF @DiSSCoEU @iDigBio? pic.twitter.com/TuJ09ueKGK

— Deborah Paul (@idbdeb) June 19, 2019

@NHM_Digitise called on James Maclaine (@beardiddley), senior curator of fishes at the Natural History Museum in London, for help tracking down the specimens. Pulling from a reference in Albert Gunther’s Catalogue of the Fishes in the British Museum, Maclaine responded that the Museum likely held the “W.P. Cocks, Esq.” specimen (with the label reading “Cork” instead of “Cocks”) and proceeded to tweet a picture of the specimen itself.

We do have one of the other ones in the reference I think (assuming W.P.Cocks and W.P.Cork are the same person!). From Albert Gunther’s Catalogue of Fishes, 1859, vol.1, p.419. pic.twitter.com/uZ5gibJmOm

— James Maclaine (@beardiddley) June 20, 2019

Here’s what the Cocks/Cork specimen looks like! The missing one will probably be dried too. pic.twitter.com/sFdaUMn5jW

— James Maclaine (@beardiddley) June 20, 2019

Beyond providing an example of the kinds of discoveries possible on the Twitterverse, this conversation also highlights the value of scientific literature for providing information on museum collections.

“Sadly, despite their many other qualities, the Victorians weren’t great at recording some details which we now would consider essential, so it is often difficult to determine the history of a 19th century fish specimen,” shares Maclaine.

When information is missing on specimen labels, the literature may be able to help fill in the gaps. For Maclaine and others managing collections, having access to this literature through BHL is incredibly valuable.

Can I just say as well, I LOVE BHL, I use it nearly every day!

— James Maclaine (@beardiddley) June 20, 2019

Maclaine finds BHL’s collections particularly useful when researching type specimens, the specific specimen used to describe a new species and the “typical” example of that species.

“Types are the most important part of our collection and are essential to any research on the species that they represent,” explains Maclaine. “However, many currently lurk unrecognized on our shelves, and it’s part of my job to find them, correctly identify them as types, and then update our records accordingly. This is where BHL comes in.”

James Maclaine, senior curator of fishes at the Natural History Museum in London, with a seabream collected from Cornwall by naturalist Jonathan Couch in 1843. The specimen is housed in the Museum’s dry specimen store. Photo by: James Maclaine.

Maclaine uses BHL sometimes several times each day, using the taxonomic name finding feature to locate literature on specific species, downloading relevant documents as PDFs, and linking to useful references using page permalinks.

“BHL has been fundamentally useful in two ways,” asserts Maclaine. “Firstly, it’s very easy to quickly get old references. Secondly, being able to download them is very helpful too. When investigating potential type specimens, I often have to go back to those first original species descriptions in the 19th century journals, which is now so quick and easy to do online. If I’m lucky, the species author will give a collecting locality, a collector and a measurement. If all three of those and the species name tie up with the specimen, I can be fairly certain that it was used when the species was described and is a type.”

Maclaine first discovered BHL via Eschmeyer’s Catalog of Fishes, a fish taxonomy database of all known fish names, the history of those names and where they were first published.

“One day I noticed a blue hyperlink next to a reference with the message ‘See ref. at BHL’, and that was that,” recalls Maclaine.

James Maclaine, senior curator of fishes at the Natural History Museum in London, inspecting specimens in the Museum’s dry specimen store, which houses most of the Museum’s skeletons, skins and stuffed fishes. Photo by: Kevin Webb, NHM Photo Unit.

As the manager of the fish collection at the Natural History Museum, Catalogue of the Fishes in the British Museum (1859-1868) is one of the most useful books in BHL’s collection for Maclaine’s work. In fact, it was this title that led him to the “W.P. Cocks, Esq.” specimen that he shared on Twitter.

Managing a 250+ year old collection means that Maclaine is responsible for ensuring that the information available for the specimens in his care is correct and up-to-date. BHL not only helps him provide reliable data for current researchers, but is also a valuable contributor to the legacy he will leave for future researchers.

“I have to think of all the generations of curators and researchers who will come after me and think, will what I’m doing be clear and comprehensible hundreds of years after I’m dead?” says Maclaine. “So, it’s great that I can now download the relevant references and then attach them to the specimen record so that everyone can see what I’ve done and why. I think the only bad thing about BHL is that it means I now spend less time in our Museum Library, another fantastic and irreplaceable resource!”

James Maclaine, senior curator of fishes at the Natural History Museum in London, inspecting specimens in the Museum’s dry specimen store, which houses most of the Museum’s skeletons, skins and stuffed fishes. Photo by: Kevin Webb, NHM Photo Unit.

By making their literature digitally available, our Partners have ensured that anyone, anywhere can access important collections data. We’re proud to be a part of empowering new discoveries and connections, whether that be through a Twitter conversation or the diligent work of a museum collections manager.

References

A version of this post was originally published on the blog of the Margaret Smith Library, SAIAB. It is reproduced with permission from the author, Sally Schramm.

From the cover of The life and work of Margaret M. Smith / Mike Bruton (c.1986)

The Library at the South African Institute for Aquatic Biodiversity is named for Mary Margaret Smith (née Macdonald), the first Director of the JLB Smith Institute of Ichthyology. Macdonald attended Rhodes University College in Grahamstown from 1934 to 1937. She was awarded her B.Sc. degree in 1936, majoring in physics and chemistry (with distinction), and became a senior demonstrator in the Chemistry Department.

James Leonard Brierley (JLB) Smith (1897-1968), Associate Professor of Organic Chemistry, and Mary Macdonald, were married in 1938. With her not liking the new name “Mary Smith”, she was from that time always known as “Margaret Smith”.

JLB Smith with White steenbras , Knysna ca. 1950

JLB Smith, a keen angler, developed a more formal interest in ichthyology, the study of fishes. His young wife soon became involved in his hobby and accompanied him on fishing trips and collecting expeditions.

Margaret Smith drawing on a boat in the Seychelles.

Typical lab conditions, Shimoni, Kenya 1952.

In 1946, the Department of Ichthyology was established at Rhodes University and J.L.B and Margaret Smith were able to devote all their energies to the production of an authoritative book on the sea fishes of southern Africa.

Margaret and JLB Smith review art proofs.

One of their greatest problems was a lack of suitable illustrations. Undaunted, despite no artistic training, Margaret Smith, took on the task. The first edition of The Sea Fishes of Southern Africa, published in 1949, contained her exceptional illustrations.

Plate 32. The sea fishes of Southern Africa. 1949. By JLB and Mary Margaret Smith. Art by Mary Margaret Smith. Contributed in BHL from Cornell University Library with permission from the South African Institute for Aquatic Biodiversity. CC-BY-NC-SA.

Plate 12. The sea fishes of Southern Africa. 1949. By JLB and Mary Margaret Smith. Art by Mary Margaret Smith. Contributed in BHL from Cornell University Library with permission from the South African Institute for Aquatic Biodiversity. CC-BY-NC-SA.

She in turn taught what was to become a group of acclaimed natural history artists.

After the death of JLB Smith in January 1968, Margaret Smith continued her ichthyological research in Grahamstown. At the end of 1968, the South African Council for Scientific and Industrial Research (CSIR) and Rhodes University decided to establish the J.L.B Smith Institute of Ichthyology. Margaret was appointed the first Director of the new Institute, now the South African Institute for Aquatic Biodiversity (SAIAB).

Margaret and JLB Smith with their dog, Marlin.

The Margaret Smith House, a women’s residence at Rhodes University, likewise honours her contribution to our local university and to international science.

Margaret Smith died in 1987. She had given 49 years of service to ichthyology.

Margaret’s achievements, the fine building, the reference collection of fish which she so adequately preserved, the status of the institute as a museum of international standing, are there for all to see. What is less known is the woman herself in her private life which few could know much about. This may be summed up in two words: for all her public flamboyance, she was a kind woman. Nobody with a hard-luck story was ever turned away … she helped innumerable people. If something was needed and could not otherwise be got she would dip into her pockets, and never say a word. [1]

The Biodiversity Heritage Library holds a collection of JBL Smith’s Ichthyological Papers, edited by his wife, Margaret Smith, and published in 1969, the year after his death. Contributed by the Library of the South African Institute for Aquatic Biodiversity, the two volume work was published by the J.L.B. Smith Institute of Ichthyology.

Coelacanth re-discovered off the coast of South African in 1938. Smith, J.L.B. “A Living Fish of Mesozoic Type.” Nature. v. 143 (1939). In: Ichthyological Papers. Ed. Mary Margaret Smith. 1969. Contributed in BHL from the South African Institute for Aquatic Biodiversity.

One of the highlights of the publication is the description of the “re-discovery” of the coelacanth, believed to have become extinct in the Late Cretaceous, around 66 million years ago, but rediscovered off the coast of South Africa in 1938. Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer, curator of the East London Museum, discovered a specimen from amongst the catch of a local trawler, Captain Hendrick Goosen, and contacted J.L.B. Smith regarding the discovery. Smith subsequently named the species Latimeria chalumnae after Courtenay-Latimer.

You can read more about the life and achievements of Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer as part of the #HerNaturalHistory campaign.

Reference

A version of this post was originally published on the blog of the Margaret Smith Library, SAIAB. It is reproduced with permission from the author, Sally Schramm.

Willie and I look forward to our first born towards the end of April/beginning of May and we both pray it will be a lover of all that is beautiful in nature. Willie wants it to be a botanist — I want it to be a lover of birds and animals.
Eric Latimer’s diary, 25th November 1906

Marjorie Eileen Doris Courtenay-Latimer (1907-2004) is ubiquitously remembered and celebrated for her part in recognising that the large fish trawled by Capt. Hendrik Goosen and the crew of the Nerine in December 1938 was an astonishing find. This was to be identified as the first live coelacanth known to Western science. JLB Smith, the ichthyologist who first described it, named it Latimeria chalumnae after Marjorie, and the Eastern Cape river mouth near which it was found.

Commemorative postcard on the “re-discovery” of the coelacanth.

Reading the Border Historical Society’s The Coelacanth journal Commemorative edition in honour of Dr Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer (2004) we find a life dedicated to a great deal more than that single event. Her contributions to the Eastern Cape town of East London, and to the Museum in particular, were immense.

Born two months prematurely, surviving practically every childhood disease known — and the Flu Pandemic (1918-1920) — the apparently frail Marjorie’s interest in “all that is beautiful in nature” intensified as her family followed father Eric Latimer to his postings at a succession of often isolated railway stations in the Free State and Eastern Cape. The entire family walked and picnicked, collected, recorded and illustrated specimens, thoroughly appreciative of the wild areas around them.

Keeping natural history journals and scrapbooks became a life-long habit for Marjorie. Here we read in 1938, “Every where everything was beautiful — watched, talked and breathed nature. Every scrap of this day was heavenly”.

The Coelacanth Vol. 42 (1) Centrepiece.

We also read of Marjorie, aged 24, as the first curator in 1931 (at £2 a month, with a petty cash allowance of 5/-) of the new and sparsely provisioned East London Museum, with its meagre collections; setting up displays (initially from her family’s own collections) and dioramas; her dedication in building collections both cultural and of natural history; her awareness of the museum’s value and interest to the public and especially to children; and of the planting of the indigenous museum garden. All this was accomplished in the early years with very little help; we read only of one named assistant Enoch [Enoch Elias], who helped Marjorie lug the coelacanth back to the Museum in 1938.

Other contributions tell of her stint on Bird Island in Algoa Bay for six weeks in 1936, with her parents as chaperones (mother enthused, father dreadfully bored); of her botanical and fossil-collecting field trips, often with close friends, specifically of the excavation and mounting of the almost-complete dicnodoni skeleton Kannemeyeria simocephalus.

Marjorie recounts many of these events from her early life and career, and explains how they ultimately contributed to the coelacanth “discovery”, in a 1979 paper published in the Occasional papers of the California Academy of Sciences. For example, it was because of her employment at the East London Museum that she met JLB Smith, with whom she developed a professional relationship that she called upon following her discovery in December 1938. And it was during her time on Bird Island that she met Capt. Hendrik Goosen, who became a regular source of specimens for her collecting activities for the Museum — and ultimately the supplied the famed coelacanth specimen.

Marjorie summarizes her story and the events that culminated in her famed discovery as such:

“This story is one of the most astounding records of a woman’s intuition, for:

had I never gone to Bird Island;
had I never met Dr. JLB Smith who, of all the scientists I met as a young girl struggling with meagre funds in a small Museum, always gave encouragement and never criticism;
and had I not gone to the wharf to wish the men a Happy Christmas,

there never would have been a coelacanth discovery in South Africa, on 22 December 1938.”

Marjorie was an author of scientific and popular literature on a wide variety of topics and was an active member of diverse museum, historical and natural history societies. She supported conservation and the establishment of nature reserves such as Potters Pass, East London, and Gonubie Nature Reserve. Finally, we read of her numerous civic awards, honorary fellowships, and her Honorary Doctorate from Rhodes University.

Dr Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer PhD (Honoris Causa) 1971.

Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer Collection. Thomas River Historical Village. (Pic: Mike Schramm)

On her retirement as Director from the East London Museum in 1973, Marjorie moved to Witselbos in the Tsitsikamma area. Her house Mygene was named for her childhood nickname “Genie”, from the popular song “Jeanie with the light brown hair”, “… I see her tripping where the bright streams play, Happy as the daisies that dance on her way …”

Having done a brick-laying course at the East London Technical College, she tackled a kitchen extension with aplomb. She painted and sculpted in clay. She still kept in touch with friends and colleagues world-wide. Forays into nature continued as ever.

Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer Collection. Thomas River Historical Village. (Pic: Mike Schramm)

She returned to East London in the 1980s. On her moving to frail-care shortly before her death in 2004, a collection of Marjorie’s personal effects (including the certificate and house plaque above) were left behind in the house which she had recently occupied.

Fortuitously, these were subsequently recovered when the house was sold ten years later. A serendipitous chain of events led to the display of some items at Thomas River Historical Village near Cathcart, Eastern Cape. The Village is the site of the original Thomas River Station — where Eric Latimer and his family had lived in the late 1920s.

Saving History (Daily Dispatch 18th Oct 2014).

The original Thomas River Station, built in the late 1870s. (Pic: Mike Schramm)

Among the treasures found was the album presented to Marjorie on her 90th birthday in 1997 “with appreciation and admiration” by the South African Museums Association. There is a facsimile copy at Thomas River Historical Village. Many of the contributors are a who’s who of prominent naturalists, authors and artists, all friends and colleagues.

Contribution by Richard Liversidge, ornithologist, previously Director, McGregor Museum, Kimberley. Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer Collection,Thomas River Historical Village. (Pic: Mike Schramm)

The many happy memories recalled through the warm contributions would have delighted Willie and Eric Latimer. Their first child was a daughter who truly was a “lover of all that is beautiful in nature”.

Marjorie Courtney-Latimer — a life lived richly beyond the coelacanth!

Workflow Meets Deluge

Henry Weed Fowler must have loved fish.

Ichthyology dominated his entire career. He started as a museum assistant at the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia in 1903. Other experts in his field soon recognized his prolific skill. In 1918, an assistant curator at the Smithsonian, Barton A. Bean, reached out to Fowler (then still an assistant) for help identifying fishes collected by the United States Exploring Expedition. Fowler dove into the work. He delivered a lengthy 750-page manuscript in two years, helping to discover 18 new species of fish in the process.[1]

For reference, the average field book here at the Smithsonian Institution Archives is 110 pages.

In 1925, Bean again sought out Fowler (then an associate curator) to identify fish from a 1907-1910 expedition by the steamer Albatross in the Philippines. Over the next several years, the pair published three manuscripts together (one | two | three), after which Fowler published three more of his own (one | two | three). Then, Fowler additionally completed six massive manuscripts – thousands of pages of independently written material – that were never published. Fowler passed away in 1965 after becoming a Curator of Fishes in 1940.[2] His unpublished manuscripts were transferred to the Smithsonian Institution Archives in 1975.[3]

Fowler, Henry Weed. Manuscript of Henry Weed Fowler on the fishes of the Philippines, unpublished, circa 1930-1941. Families Argentinidae and Serpidae. Digitized in BHL by Smithsonian Institution Archives. https://biodiversitylibrary.org/page/55806651.

As a part of the BHL Field Notes Project, Smithsonian Institution Archives is digitizing one-of-a-kind field notes and manuscripts so they may be accessed online by researchers who may otherwise not be able to access the material. Logistically, each field book is assigned a unique identifier in the Archive’s Field Book Registry which we use to help track the item throughout the digitization process. On average, one unique identifier means one 110-page field book. We can normally digitize and deliver at least 30 field books per week.

Here’s where it got tricky: Fowler’s six unpublished manuscripts were grouped under a single identifier, MODSI6368. One 28,000-page item, 254-times larger than normal, and estimated 2.5 TB worth of images. One field book to outweigh them all.

Fowler’s unpublished manuscripts in the digital imaging lab, with imaging tech Charles Zange for scale. Photo by Mignonette D. Johnson. Smithsonian Institution Archives.

The eight-Hollinger-box, 153-folder field book arrived in Staging in late February. Our team held a meeting. We needed a new approach.

Logistics of a Tidal Wave

Proceeding as normal would irreversibly skew project deliverables. Loading a 28,000 page manuscript in the BHL portal wouldn’t be the most useful approach for researchers. After detailed discussion, we settled on a plan: break out the manuscript into sub-elements at the folder level instead of the title level, photograph at ~650ppi so we wouldn’t have to adjust the camera during the day, and bulk scan smaller items that required a higher resolution.

This new approach offered several advantages. Adjusting the camera several times a day adds up and slows down imaging; removing the need to adjust constantly would save us time and make imaging the manuscript more efficient. Treating each folder as a separate sub-element would mean creating smaller, more manageable digital objects closer to the average 110 pages we usually work with. This would shorten descriptive metadata per image in our Collections Management System (CMS) records; otherwise we would be embedding page-long collection notes into each image. It would also allow us to take advantage of how BHL manages multi-volume titles. This in particular is a method already successfully implemented by our fellow Field Notes Project partners at the Missouri Botanical Garden on their George Engelmann material, so we knew it could be a user-friendly way to present the extensive Fowler manuscript.

We had a plan. Now we had to see if it would work.

Fowler, Henry Weed. Manuscript of Henry Weed Fowler on the fishes of the Philippines, unpublished, circa 1930-1941. Order Synbranchii. Digitized in BHL by Smithsonian Institution Archives. https://biodiversitylibrary.org/page/55811117.

Results after the Storm

The first Fowler image came through the camera on March 14, 2018. Our team finished photography on April 17th. Delivery to the Biodiversity Heritage Library is ongoing (stay tuned!). Here are a few statistics from the Fowler photography project:

• Final page count: 28,735
  • 153 folders, average 187.8 pages/folder (1.7 times larger than average field books)
• 24 days of imaging and metadata processing
  • Average 1197.29 images/day
• Highest one-day count of photography: 2,415 pages
  • 345 pages/hour (5.75 pages/minute) for 7 hours by one technician
• 2.59 TB storage footprint
• Widespread sense of accomplishment

Spread the Word across the Seas!

Fowler has started to make his way online. As the team moves to another collection (Edmund Heller), check out some of the other worldwide journeys by Smithsonian researchers at the Smithsonian Transcription Center and the Smithsonian Field Books Collection. Thank you to our many volunteers, both online and here in the lab, for your passion and dedication in support of this project!

The BHL Field Notes Project is funded by the Council on Library and Information Resources (CLIR).

Citations

Monday, May 28, marked Jean Louis Rodolphe Agassiz’s 205th birthday. Louis Agassiz was a famous Swiss paleontologist, glaciologist, and geologist who made critical advances in the fields of ichthyology and glaciology. During his lifetime, he received the Wollaston medal, was named a member of the Royal Society, the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, and the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, and served as the head of the Lawrence Scientific School at Harvard University. And last, but certainly not least, Agassiz founded the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard University.

Born in Môtier, Switzerland, in 1807, Agassiz’s original interests laid in medicine, but he developed an affinity for zoology, particularly ichthyology, after meeting Georges Cuvier, renowned French naturalist and zoologist. In 1826, Carl Friedrich Philipp von Martius asked Agassiz to study a collection of fish brought back from an 1819-20 expedition to Brazil. The endeavor marked the launch of Agassiz’s work in ichthyology. The project was completed in 1829, and by 1830, Agassiz, fully engrossed in the subject, issued a prospectus of a History of the Freshwater Fish of Central Europe, which was finally published from 1839-42.

Agassiz achieved worldwide fame with the publication of Recherches sur les poissons fossiles, a five volume, gorgeously-illustrated set, published from 1833-43. The work described the fossil fish housed at the University of Neuchâtel, where Agassiz taught as a professor. The stones containing the fossils came from the slates of Glarus and the limestones of Monte Bolca.

Agassiz’s research for Recherches prompted him to develop a new classification system for fish, dividing them into the four groups Ganoids, Placoids, Cycloids and Ctenoids. The division was based on the scales and dermal appendages exhibited by each specimen, as these characteristics were often the only traits preserved in fossils. Though no longer in use, Agassiz’s system served as an important advancement in the study of fossil fish.

Recherches contains 402 lithographic plates, 318 of which are hand-colored. It describes more than 1,700 ancient fish species. To support the continued development of the project, the Earl of Ellesmere purchased Agassiz’s 1,290 original drawings for the work, which were ultimately presented to the Geological Society of London. A complete copy of the work sold at Christie’s Auction House in 2003 for $8,537.

During his lifetime, Agassiz published material about echinoderms, fossil mollusks, embryology, and glaciers. He was the first to advocate scientifically for the advent of an ice age in earth’s history, which resulted in his two-volume work Etudes sur les Glaciers. Agassiz ultimately settled in the United States, and, perhaps most importantly for BHL, founded the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard University in 1859. The museum’s library is one of the founding members of BHL and the contributor of our copy of Recherches sur les poissons fossiles. By the time of his death, Agassiz was one of the best-known scientists in the world.

You can see a selection of the illustrations from volumes 2 and 3 in Flickr and browse the entire work in BHL. We’re proud to have our own history so intricately interwoven with this great man and send a heartfelt birthday wish his way. Happy birthday, Louis Agassiz!

This week, while browsing our Flickr site (which, by the way, has over 15,900 images!), we stumbled across the book Field Book of Giant Fishes (1949), by J.R. Norman and F.C. Fraser, and were intrigued. What exactly was a giant fish by this book’s standards, and what would we find when we delved into the pages of this enigmatic title?

To our delight, we found some surprising species featured within this volume. Species that make you think, “Maybe we aren’t too far off from the dinosaurs.” Some even include creatures that might be responsible for many of the “sea monster” claims sailors have made over the years. Plus, as is always a bonus for us, the descriptions were accompanied by lovely illustrations (by W.P.C. Tenison) of the mighty fish that call our oceans home today. We thought this title offered a great opportunity to showcase some of these aquatic marvels. So, without further ado…

1) Giant Oar-Fish, also known as the King of Herrings. This critter is the world’s longest bony fish, reaching up to at least 11 meters (unconfirmed reports of 17 meters exist!) and weighing upwards of 300 kg! Living 300-1000 meters below the ocean’s surface, it is a rarely-seen deep sea wonder. Nevertheless, many scientists believe that this colossal beast may be responsible for many of the strange sea monster sightings reported throughout the years.

Despite the scarcity of sightings, there are several documented encounters with this species:

• On Dec. 10, 2010, a live specimen measuring 4 meters was caught off the Sinaloan coast of Mexico. One of the fisherman who caught it cautioned that “it might be the devil” and “feared it might swallow them.”
• On April 6, 2011, a 3.5 meter Giant Oar-Fish was found off of the east coast of Taiwan. It is believed that the creature surfaced as a result of the tsunami that hit Japan in March. Thus, it was given the nickname “Earthquake Fish.”
• And finally, in 1996, a 7-meter specimen was caught off of the coast of California. Pictured below is a team of Navy SEALs displaying the beast. (Image from pg. 20, All Hands)

2) Blue Whale. So, everyone’s familiar with the Blue Whale – the largest animal on the face of the planet, and, for that matter, the largest animal known to have ever existed. (Take that, Dinosaurs!). At 30 meters long and 180 metrics tons, this creature is truly a behemoth. However, despite its size, the Blue Whale’s diet consists completely of small crustaceans called krill.

Some very interesting facts about the Blue Whale:

• It’s tongue weighs as much as an elephant (which, incidentally, is the largest living land mammal)
• When fully expanded, a Blue Whale’s mouth is large enough to hold 90 metrics tons of food and water
• Despite this large mouth, the Whale’s throat is so small that it cannot swallow anything larger than a beach ball
• At birth, Blue Whales weigh 6,000 lbs – the weight of a full-grown hippopotamus – and drink an average of 100 gallons of milk every day
• Blue Whale calves gain as much as 200 lbs every day
• A Blue Whale’s Heart weighs 1,300 lbs.

3) Narwhal. Although not a mammoth in proportions, this sea critter nevertheless has many links to mythological associations. For obvious reasons, it is known as the “sea unicorn,” and Medieval Europeans believed that these “unicorn” horns possessed magical powers, such as the ability to cure poison and melancholia. The Inuit people believe the Narwhal tusk came about when “a women with a harpoon rope tied around her waist was dragged into the ocean after the harpoon had struck a large narwhal. She was transformed into a Narwhal herself, and her hair, which she was wearing in a twisted knot, became the characteristic spiral Narwhal tusk.”

• The Narwhal is most closely related to the Beluga Whale, and together they make up the only two living species of the Monodontidae family
• Narwhals are a strictly Arctic species, and rarely venture below 65 degrees North latitude
• The Narwhal’s name comes from the Old Norse word “nár,” which means “corpse.” It was given this name due to its grayish pigmentation, which gave it the appearance of a drowned sailor.
• A male Narwhal’s tusk can grow as long as 3 meters and weigh up to 22 lbs. About 1 in 500 male Narwhals grows a second tusk.
• In the 16th century, Queen Elizabeth was given a carved and bejeweled Narwhal tusk worth £10,000 – the cost of, in those times, an entire castle!
• The Narwhal is one of two possible explanations for the “giant sea phenomenon” described by Jules Verne in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. (The other possibility? A man-made vessel. We like the Narwhal option better!)

We hope you’ve enjoyed these fun facts about some surprising creatures from the sea. Don’t forget that these are only a few of the animals pictured in our book of the week, Field Book of Giant Fishes (1949), by J.R. Norman and F.C. Fraser. The color illustrations from this book can be found on our Flickr site, but there are also dozens of smaller, ink drawings within the actual text, so be sure to check out the book in BHL as well!And remember, it might not be the age of the dinosaurs, but we’ve still got some mammoths living among us!