Sea and River-side Rambles in Victoria/Chapter 6

by Samuel Hannaford

CHAPTER VI.

"Of gay and curious shells
 Corallines and fresh seaweeds spreading forth their
delicate branches."

But we must not forget that other parts of the coast demand our attention now, for although we prefer the bracing breezes of Warrnambool, there are many who run down from the hot streets of Melbourne to spend a few days or weeks in the quietude of Geelong, for gloomy though it may appear to some, the searcher after a knowledge of Marine objects will find plenty that is novel, much that will interest him in Corio Bay. "However dull," says Edward Forbes, "a country may seem, however uninteresting its human population, the creatures that live on its surface, or swarm amid the waves that wash its shores, afford a constant and inexhaustible source of amazement and instruction. The Naturalist is at home everywhere, and finds a museum where the ordinary voyager sees nothing but a waste. In the Polar regions he is intensely happy, but in the tropics he is in Paradise itself. No district is so poor and barren, but it has treasures for him, and none so rich, but that all its gold would fail to prevent his rushing after a new butterfly, or climbing the rocks after a new flower."^[1] To impress this fact on our readers is the aim of these pages, which will we trust assure them that there is much to be learned, —great happiness in store for those who will follow our advice. To be at the Sea-side without some occupation is one of the dreariest things which can fall to a man's lot,—by occupation let it be remembered we do not mean the abominable pastime,—novel-reading,—so often indulged in, and called recreation, but that in which the mind can participate and be prevented from falling into that listless state which too often succeeds a season of idleness and desuetude.

A more beautiful little Bay than this can scarcely be imagined,—a perfect basin surrounded by high bluffs on the town side, above which are the Botanical Gardens, and over the water, in the back ground, are the pretty Anakies to complete the landscape. Here the sea is ever calm, and seldom disturbed by the huge waves and bleak winds which form so unpleasant a feature at other parts of the coast. This now is a piping hot day, so we are glad enough to leave the dusty streets to embrace any stray puff of wind lurking about. The Shore birds are silent enough; but see how the water birds are sporting about in the greatest enjoyment, perpetually turning over and over in the water, now diving and only raising their bills just above the surface to breathe, their bodies still remaining submerged. How we envy them as we pant here, shrivelled up almost by the sun's rays. The Bird Bank across the Bay is covered with Pelicans, their bills pressed down on their breasts, Gulls, and Cormorants,—the latter have a loose piece of skin under the throat, but not as is the case with the Pelicans, for storing their food, but rather to admit of their swallow being extended when meeting with some tit-bit rather larger than usual; we expect they are pretty well gorged now from the indifference with which they regard us, and our endeavours to get them on the wing. There too in addition to the White Ibis and the Dotterel, which we have mentioned previously as frequenting the Warrnambool Coast, we have the Sooty Oyster Catcher, (Hæmotopus fuliginosus) from Lake Connewarre, and the delicate Greenshank (Glottis glottoides.) We can scarcely particularise the species of Ducks which occasionally wheel over our heads as we progress, but we have seen near the Lakes, the Mountain, the Black, the Teal, the pretty pink-eyed (Malacorhynchus membranaceus) (Sow,) the Shoveler, and many more. Look through this glass now at that group of silvery-breasted Grebes (Podiceps) gliding along the surface of the water as they alight; out of the water they are (except on the wing) perfectly helpless, only standing with great difficulty; but once in their own natural element, their broad oar-like lobed feet enable them to swim and dive with great facility; a specimen of the lesser Grebe ornaments our shelves, presented by a friend who had picked it up under the light-house at Queenscliff, against which it had flown, and by its side, standing about nineteen inches high is the very beautiful Stone Curlew, (Œdicnemus grallarius), whose brilliant dark markings looming out from its light cinereous plumage, render it a prize to the Ornithologist,—let him look for it here!!

But to work, yet let us first remark to our readers, (as we should have done earlier), no matter of what sex they be, that searchers after sea-side treasures must not regard their personal appearance, nor hesitate to adorn themselves with the paraphernalia of the craft in the shape of sundry sized "billies," or tin cans, suspended on a strap or string, for collecting; a hammer, such as is used by Geologists, is indispensable—one end tapering to a fine point, the other blunt, and let the handle be tolerably long and well seasoned; a cold chisel is often of very great assistance, and a small muslin net made so as to fasten to a walking stick is the most useful instrument the Sea-side collector or diver into Ocean's mysteries can employ; wet feet, as a matter of course, will fall to our lot, but no matter so long as we keep moving and the spoil is plentiful. The rocks just left dry by the retreating tide, with here and there a few very shallow pools we will search first; Tops (Trochi), Cerithium, Natica, and the brilliantly-colored bivalves Aviculæ, are in profusion;—taking lip the stones, one by one, we meet with so many interesting forms that we must needs be moderate in our gatherings or our pots will soon be overcrowded,—it is well therefore to select only such as cannot easily be obtained at any other time, leaving the more common to be collected as leisure offers;—to arrive home after a day's fag on the rocks, to reach which we may have had a preparatory row, or a tedious walk on a soft sandy beach, with hosts of creatures to " bed and board," which to do successfully inculcates some acquaintance with the habits of each, is indeed a bore, and likely to damp the ardour of even the most enthusiastic of our readers. Strolling quietly along "improving" (we hope) "the shining hour," by recounting past experiences, we turn over those stones under which it is probable what we are in search of may be lurking;—for a time we are unsuccessful, but at last our zeal meets with its reward. We find a thin flat ribbon-shaped gelatinous creature of a dirty white colour, writhing about into all manner of crevices to prevent its being detached, twisting itself into curious shapes, but always adhering so tenaciously to the rock, that it is scarcely possible to remove it without mutilation;—however, Naturalists have a certain amount of perseverance, and done will we never be, so at last when the patience of our companions is well nigh exhausted, we have a specimen fairly bottled. But what is this creature, do you ask? One glance through our pocket lens, shows us it is a Planaria— we know it at once from its Hydatid appearance. Under the higher powers of a* microscope the digestive apparatus is well worthy of examination, it will be found to be arborescent, the nutritive juices being dispersed along the sides of the animal. These creatures, though belonging to the Entozoa (internal parasites), are not parasitic, but creep about on the Confervæ and Algæ, found in situations similar to those we are now working in. The small specks on the anterior part of the body, have been said to be eyes, but Rymer Jones^[2] thinks their claim to such an appellation not only unsubstantiated, but actually "negatived by experiments," which go to prove that in the pursuit of prey, no power of detecting the proximity of their food by the exercise of sight is possessed by any of them. Be this as it may, we secure a few specimens to mount for the Microscope, and again to work;^[3] away wriggle ere we can lay hands on them, myriads of the small pink Nereis, not very unlike the Centipede in appearance, having legs regularly disposed on each of the numerous segments of which its body consists, but belonging, as will readily be seen, to the Annelida, a class named from Annellus (a small ring), in which are comprised creatures whose bodies are composed of a succession of rings, the leech and common earthworm being familiar illustrations, but there is even yet a more interesting type which inhabits those small elongated tubes which are so abundant in low water on this beach; these tubes are apparently made of grains of sand, particles of which, from being waterworn, shine out like diamonds, and are cemented together by some substance (what it is we know not) which exudes from the body of its occupant, a Terebella belonging to the division Tubicola of Cuvier. Our own experience enables us to confirm the remark of Mr. Lewes, that "Amateurs are not fond of Worms," but the peculiar structure of some of them, the beauty of their tentacles when expanded (in Terebellæ or Serpulæ for instance), demand careful examination from those having a love for Natural History. The Keeper of one of the bathing houses here has lately exhibited to the frequenters of his establishment a tiny impromptu Aquarium, in which, amidst other things, were groups of Serpulæ, whose tentacles carefully expanded when everything around was quiet, were withdrawn with great rapidity on their being touched or otherwise disturbed.

The wonderful process of the Terebella multiplying itself by gemmation, described in such a spirited manner in the "Sea-side Studies, (page 61,) is far too interesting not to find a place in our Work;—it is quite a new feature in its history, although it has been long known to occur in nearly allied Annelida, the tail of the Nereis, for instance, being still the tail of its offspring, and however often the body may divide, still the same tail remains attached to the hinder portion, so that this part of the animal may be said to enjoy a kind of immunity from death.^[4] "When," says Lewes, "the animal (Terebella) reproduces by this budding process, it begins to form a second head near the extremity of its body. After this head, other segments are in turn developed; the tail or final segment being the identical tail of the mother, but pushed forward by the young segments, and now belonging to the child, and only vicariously to the mother. In this state we have two worms and one tail. It is as if a head were suddenly to be developed out of your lumbar vertebrae, yet still remain attached to the column, and thus produce a double-headed monster, more fantastic than fable; or suppose you were to cut a caterpillar in half, fashion a head for the tail half, and then fasten this head to the cut end of the other half—this would give you an instance of the Syllis budding. But in some worms the process does not stop here. What the mother did, the child does, and you may see at last six worms forming one continuous line, with only one tail for the six. The tail indeed is the family inheritance, but reversing the laws of primogeniture, it always descends to the youngest; like that elaborate display of baby linen which was worked with such fondness for the first-born, and has become in turns the costume of successive pledges as they appeared on this scene of life with a constant diminendo of interest in all but parental eyes. The separation finally takes place, and then we perceive the children and grand-children are not quite the same as their ancestor." As we have before mentioned, the fact had not hitherto been observed in the group Tubicola, (or animal flowers), yet two of our author's Terebellæ gave him a sight of it. "The first," he tells us, "died before the separation took place; the second, after a day or two's captivity, separated itself from its appendix of a baby, and seemed all the livelier for the loss of a juvenile which had been literally in that condition of 'hanging to its mother's tail,' which I have heard applied in metaphorical sarcasm to small boys anxious to be with their mothers. The young one only lived four days." We need not apologise for this long extract, it is the most graphic description we have met with for many a day, and we only wish we could follow out the author's learned arguments in confirmation of the experiments of Bonnet and M. Peltier.

But what means that piteous cry from our companion on a-head who is wading about sans shoes, sans stockings? Has a monster Poulpe taken fancy to his posterior extremities, or has some daring young Mollusk, caught in the act of shoeing her pretty foot, retained one of his fingers in her grasp (he is a bachelor) as she closes her habitation? We hurry to the rescue, but he has only stepped on "this nasty thing" we discover, and he holds it up to us with a derisive look, as much as to say, "catch me beachcombing any more!!" but it is a prize indeed which has caused him this alarm, a Crustacean, very unlike the Lobsters and Crabs generally met with 5 it is the Ibacus Peronii of Leach, and belongs to an order of Macrorous Decapods (Scyllarideæ), or in plainer terms, long-tailed, ten-footed Crustaceans,—feet all of equal length. When full grown it measures about five inches, the carapace much wider than it is long, with a lamellar prolongation on each side which covers the feet. The eyes instead of being situated near the external angle of the carapace are far distant from it. The abdomen is short, suddenly narrowed from before, backwards. It is commonly known as the u Kangaroo Crab," from a habit of striking the water with its flabelliform tail, and bounding into the air, and with the same apparatus it swims rapidly—it being, as in many other Crustaceans, specially constructed for that purpose. Our bathing-house acquaintance has captured many fine specimens, of one of which a sketch is given at the end of this chapter.

Swimming about occasionally amongst the seaweeds the pretty Syngnathus may be met with;—the common name of Pipe-fish it receives from its tubular snout, and long attenuated body: this is the marsupial fish which formed the subject of a paper read by Mr. Becker, before the Philosophical Institute of Victoria, (Transactions, Vol. 1, page 14, 1857,) but the fact that the ova were hatched in a pouch attached to the male, had long previously been known, the female transferring them to her Lord and Master who performs all the duties of incubation;^[5] here alone is an interesting process for the Aquarium keeper to watch. Allied to the Pipe-fish is the Sea Horse (Hippocampus) so called from its snout resembling the head of a horse; it is a great pet, as was instanced by the crowd of persons visiting the bathing-house when a specimen was exhibited there, and will well repay any additional care which the Naturalist may bestow on it. We give elsewhere a sketch of this singular fish, but it must be seen alive before any idea can be formed of its quaint way of poking its snout into all manner of crevices, and twisting its tail around any object which may present itself; pity that we cannot convey to our readers the beautiful rapid rotatory motion of the dorsal fin, not unaptly compared to the screw of a steamer. The Male Hippocampi like the Pipe fishes take an active part in the reproductive economy.

Let not our readers rashly venture into the water here, for the fish-stall of Mr. Baker, in Malop-street, has revealed to us that such things as Tiger and Ground Sharks of most uncomfortable dimensions are to be met with, still much may be gained by carefully turning over the rubbish washed up by the tide. Seaweeds are seldom met with, if we except the beautiful olive Sargassum, with its broad oak-shaped sinuate leaves, and the grape like brown clusters of the Hormosira Banksii, in all its several forms, so carefully figured by Professor Harvey in his History of the Seaweeds of Australia; the Jelly fishes always abound, but are generally in a state of decomposition, and the slug-like creatures from the touch of which one almost shrinks, are worthy of more attention than we are at first inclined to give them. It will astound some of our readers to hear that these slimy creatures (Holothuria, or Sea Cucumbers,) belong to the same division as the Starfishes and Sea-eggs, and like them have suckers, varying perhaps in different species, by which progression is effected, and for plumose tentacles they have the most beautiful that can be imagined. There is one habit however they have, which is more singular than pleasant,—the getting rid of their intestines whenever handled. Forbes does not think this is the case, but our own experience confirms the statements of other writers, and Rymer Jones gives as a reason, that "the slightest irritation applied to the surface of the body causes such powerful contractions of the integument that the thin membranes of the cloaca unable to withstand the pressure, become lacerated, and large portions of the intestine and other viscera are forced from the anal aperture." Sir John Daly ell however states that they have the power of reproducing the alimentary canal.

For the mode of manufacturing these creatures into a substance much used by the Chinese, and called "trepang, we must refer to the 'Curiosities of Food,'" a work of much interest, not long since brought out by Mr. Simmonds, remarking only that a large quantity is annually exported, we believe, from Northern Australia, and only a few years since a Company was started in Western Australia for carrying out this Fishery, but its operations were limited during the brief period of its existence.

But the rapidly rising" tide puts an end to further exploration for to-day,—we have scarcely lost sight of the Town—so panoramic in its appearance—and yet we have had occupation enough, and our collecting bottles are full, so leaving our companions to rest awhile to sniff the evening breezes in quietude, we saunter homewards, recruited in health and spirits, and infinitely the wiser for our intercourse with Nature, cordially agreeing too with Bryant that—

"To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness and a smile,
And eloquence of Beauty, and she glides
Into her darker musings with a mild
And healing sympathy that steals away
Their sharpness ere he is aware."

1. "The Naturalist at Home and Abroad."—Forbes.
2. "Animal Kingdom," page 147.
3. There are also terrestrial Planariæ, no less than 12 species of which Darwin (Nat. Voy., p. 27), speaks as having found in different parts of the Southern Hemisphere, some obtained in Van Diemen'a Land being kept alive for nearly two months on rotten wood.
4. Rymer Jones, Animal Kingdom, page 312.
5. Proceedings Zoological Society, 1834, p. 118.