Helen FieldsScience Writer

This weekend I was in Lawrence, Kansas, where my dad grew up, and stopped by the University of Kansas Natural History Museum. It’s in a great old building atop a hill on the KU campus.

In olden times (the Cretaceous, if you want to get technical – late in the dinosaur times), Kansas was underwater. The west coast and the eastern U.S. were separated by the Western Interior Sea. I love that it has a name, even if it isn’t a very poetic name – like it’s got a name waiting for it, in case the Rockies decide to go back down.

All that water means Kansas is rich in fossils of wacky sea creatures like this guy:

He’s a Xiphactinus molossus, a kind of bony fish. Doesn’t he look mean?

Also awesome: crinoids.

Crinoids are echinoderms, relatives of starfish and sea urchins that leave behind a lot of hard bits. They make beautiful fossils (a couple of these have been colored to show you what you’re looking at.) There are actually still crinoids, but they’re not nearly as diverse as they used to be.

One of the prized possessions of the museum is Comanche the horse. Dead horse! In a glass case!

Comanche survived the Battle of Little Bighorn in 1876, with several arrow and bullet wounds. After he recovered, he became a mascot for the Seventh Cavalry. He did parades and wandered around Fort Riley, about 100 miles west of Lawrence. When he died in 1891, he was sent off to the University of Kansas to be preserved. In 1893 he – or his skin, anyway – helped represent Kansas at the Chicago World’s Fair.

Here’s a great slide show on his restoration a few years ago. They had to build a full-size model to make sure he’d make the corners on the way to his new exhibit space. I love the pictures of him wrapped in plastic for the move. His head’s sticking out, which is reassuring – you wouldn’t want the dead horse to suffocate.

My dad remembered going to the museum on Cub Scout outings to see the snakes. I checked and, yep, they’ve still got snakes. (Probably not the same snakes as in 1950. No word if Cub Scouts still come look at them, but I can’t imagine they’d miss the chance.) They have fifteen species that are found in Kansas, each in its own cheerfully painted case.

I feel like the common garter snake, at right, got the nicest room. All those cheerful Kansas sunflowers.

The cottonmouth seemed particularly mean.

For one thing, it’s got the triangular head that screams, “I AM VENOMOUS.” Also, there were little furry gray things floating in the water that looked a heck of a lot like bits of mouse. I thought snakes swallowed their food whole, but I don’t know, maybe that one put up a fight.

photos: me, of course

Yesterday I wrote for ScienceNOW about how piranhas got their pointy teeth. The main thing I learned about piranhas is, really, they aren’t that bad. I talked to two people who have spent a lot of time catching piranhas in the wild and neither has been bitten, other than a little friendly snapping when the piranha was already out of the water. One had a friend who was bitten, though, and it was kind of nasty – the fish took out a chunk of flesh and the guy had to go to the hospital.

I was writing about this guy, Megapiranha – he’s a 3-foot-long extinct piranha relative with interesting teeth. (If you are a person who is interested in piranha evolution.)

Also totally cool: the pacus, which are related to piranhas and look a lot like them, but don’t eat meat. To quote John Lundberg, one of the ichthyologists I talked to: “They really are frugivores. It’s pretty amazing. The pacus that are in the Amazon and Orinoco, they’ll go into flooded forests during the high water season and they’ll wait underneath fruit trees that are coming into maturity. They’ll just hang out. The fruits drop into the water and they float away. Of course the fishermen see that and they fish with fruit.”

Isn’t that funny? Forget nightcrawlers, somebody get this fish a nice juicy piece o’ fruit. He says he watched fishermen in Suriname take a really long pole and put a piece of fruit on the end – something that looks kind of like a kiwi – and slap the fruit on the water. The pacus totally go for it.

art copyright Ray Troll, 2005

Someone helpfully stopped by my post on sardines and left a link to this blog: Society for the Appreciation of the Lowly Tinned Sardine. It includes many lovely photographs of sardine tins on well-appointed plates – apparently you’re supposed to actually smack the opened can down in the middle of all your tasty garden vegetables and stuff. They also seem to put a lot of thought into the drinks paired with the sardines. Huh.

Wow, check it out: chocolate sardines. Don’t worry, there’s no actual sardines inside those wrappers. I hope. If anyone’s in France around Easter, I want some – you hear me?

The other day I was at the grocery store, and I had tuna on my list. It’s easy, it keeps more or less forever, it fits in cans, I can put it on salads. But then when I was actually standing in front of the canned fish, I was hit by this sudden wave of guilt at using giant, long-lived fish at the top of the food chain for cheap protein. I’ve heard many talks in which people who understand the oceans say we really ought to be eating bait fish. (And I’ve been buying tuna all along, so I don’t know why the guilt chose last Saturday to set in.) I looked at the other cans on the shelf.

Which brings me to today’s lunch:

I haven’t quite been able to figure out the full environmental implications of this choice. Fish are confusing. If you look up “tuna” on the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch website, there are six different kinds of tuna, and whether or not you should buy them depends on how they’re caught. If you look up sardines, they give you two options, actual sardines and atlantic herring – but it seems that what I have is actually a little Atlantic fish called a “brisling” or “sprat,” which the Monterey Bay Aquarium doesn’t cover. (Read about sprat here.)

But I do understand food webs, and sardines are way lower down than tuna are. It’s like eating grain-eating chickens instead of man-eating tigers – it’s a more efficient use of resources. Fortunately, they taste pretty good. I polled my Facebook friends, and the consensus was that they should be on toast. A former choir director also suggested a large whisky and soda. I haven’t added that particular flourish yet, but I can’t imagine a large whisky and soda would make anything worse.

Today I wrote an extremely teensy story for ScienceNOW. It’s at the bottom of this list. It’s about a 300-million-year-old fossil brain. That’s really old. Soft tissue doesn’t usually get preserved, but they found this one with the crazy bright x-rays of a synchrotron.

Those little teeny stories only run with one picture, so I’m really just blogging here to share this drawing of what the iniopterygian (it’s a cartilaginous fish, related to sharks and stuff) might have looked like:

Is it just me, or does this fish look…well…kind of dumb? In a wide-eyed, hopeful way. Sorry bout the extinction, little guy.

Image courtesy of PNAS

Hey, lookit, I blogged. I mean, somewhere other than here. It’s over at ScienceNOW, the daily online news service of Science magazine. The topic: fisheries. Not *all* of the world’s fish are completely doomed. Fisheries scientists have decided that if everyone in the world thinks that all the fish news is totally bad, nobody is ever going to want to do anything about it. (Hey, they’re doomed – let’s just kill ‘em all and have the world’s biggest fish fry.) So they’re embarking on a campaign to tell the good news stories.

You could tell this was kind of a struggle sometimes. I went to part of the scientific session (the blog post was written after the press conference) and Greenpeace guy John Hocevar said, “I’ve been trying to stick to good news but I can’t quite do it.” He hung in there for a while, but then he got to tuna: “Truthfully, the tuna news is mostly bad.” Oh well. He still wrung some good news out of it. And there really are fish success stories.