Do they prefer the food of their infancy because it tastes better, is more nutrient-rich, or is easier to eat? Maybe they are just nostalgic for the food they ate when they were young.
A few of the youngsters from the most recent brood have moved in with their mom in the tank at home. They were weaned from Bryopsis plumosa to B. pennata once they were a few weeks old, and have been growing steadily.
For a few reasons, not all logically sound, I had assumed B. plumosa would be harder to culture. If an aquarist has a problem with Bryopsis, it is invariably B. pennata. Combined with the fact that B. plumosa is crucial for hatchling survival, and that I had to travel all the way to Tampa to get it, I figured I would have trouble keeping it going. As a consequence, I always shift young Elysia to B. pennata when they were ready to eat it.
Despite my preconceptions, B. plumosa is thriving at this point.
To the uninitiated, the B. plumosa tank would look like a mat of unruly glop. To an aficionado such as myself, it looks like an actively growing, unruly mat of precious food for hatchling Elysia. It is a “half-ten” aquarium: a ten-gallon tank, but only half the height (OK, so it is really only a 5-gallon tank), which provides a lot of surface but only a few inches of depth. The growth form is very different from B. pennata, which tends to be long and feathery. B. plumosa grows more like clumps of moss. I am concerned about the tank being taken over by B. pennata invading from elsewhere in the system, but so far so good on that front.
At the moment, the growing conditions are:
To get to the point of this post, I had enough B. plumosa to throw some to the adults.
Unsurprisingly, the slugs ate it. I did not expect, however, that the largest female would rarely leave the clump of algae until it was completely consumed. She very much preferred the plumosa. I brought another clump home, and she is still sitting on it, along with one of her kids. The tank is full of B. pennata, at all levels, but the slugs stick right to the single clump of B. plumosa on the surface. It may be my imagination, but the big one seems larger and more colorful after a few weeks of eating B. plumosa.
So, anecdotally, even grown up slugs prefer B. plumosa. Another thing to put on the list of things to test more rigorously. For now, one can speculate about why they seem to prefer it, and what cues (smell? texture?) draw the slugs to the algae.
In the meantime, another brood has hatched and has started to grow. I am not sure why (I am not in any way a musical person), but when a new brood starts to eat, Lyle Lovett’s “Fat Babies” runs through my mind almost continuously. I have no idea whether the song has a subtle, subversive message (if so, I apologize for any offense), or whether it is simply about chubby infants not being proud.
They are feeding and growing, and it looks like we’ll have several dozen ready for activities in the spring.
That’s OK. Who needs pride?
One of the goals of the Bahia field season was to look a little deeper at the interaction between kleptoplasty and chemical defense. The general idea went something like this:
Based on this line of thinking, we hypothesized that slugs deprived of light should be less distasteful than those kept in bright light.
To put the hypothesis to the test, we set up two tanks that were nearly identical except for lighting. They were plumbed into the same sump and chiller, so their temperatures and chemistry were essentially identical, but one was illuminated by a high-intensity LED fixture to support photosynthesis (PAR ≥100 mol m−2s−1), while the other was shaded to reduce the light by 100-fold (PAR < 1 mol m−2).
Once we obtained the permit and were allowed to collect, we randomly separated slugs into two tanks that contained roughly equal amounts of Codium on which they could feed. They were allowed to feed at will, because the goal was to test the role of photosynthesis in generating defensive chemicals, not the effect of starvation.
The original plan was to use mucus from experimental (unlit) and control (lit) slugs to make food cubes, then test which ones were eaten by fishes in the bay. However, based on experiments at USG, and the fact that we would not be able to extract enough mucus from our few dozen slugs, we decided to test the effects of tissue extracts from whole slugs. Surprisingly, the students were not as sad as we might have expected that they had to purée their pets.
For the description below, whenever I write “we,” I really mean Ric and the students, because he was very much in charge of this project. Most of the below photos are his.
The process was as quirky as any of the other experiments we have done in Bahia. To make the gel base of the food cubes, we needed to dissolve carrageenan in water, which required heating the water to boiling. The easiest method is to microwave the water, but the only available microwave oven had a single working button (“popcorn”), which turned the microwave on (after a disconcerting delay) for 3.5 minutes. It took some practice and finesse to turn the machine off at the right time, but they managed.
Fish food pellets were ground and added to the carrageenan solution to make the base food cubes. Mucus or tissue were then added to a portion of the food, depending on the experiment.
Once heated and thoroughly mixed, food was poured into silicone ice cube trays to make 1 cm cubes. Silicone O-rings, used to secure the food cubes to clips during experiments, were placed into the molds and held steady with acrylic rods.
Once the O-rings were in place, food was poured into the molds and evened out using a knife. After cooling for a bit, the whole assembly was stuffed into a ziploc bag and refrigerated until needed.
At experiment time, food cubes were attached to monofilament lines to be anchored in the bay. The bottom end of the line was tied to small lead weights, while the top was held afloat by a 16-20 oz soda bottle. Food cubes were secured by O-rings to plastic safety pins tied to the line at regular intervals. Several bugs needed to be worked out. For example, we started with lightweight fishing line, but it had a tendency to break in the surge of the intertidal zone, causing loss of the whole bait line. We shifted to a much heavier gauge, which apparently scared the fish away, because all food cubes were present after 24 hours. Ultimately, we settled on something in between, and could start gathering real data.
Once food cubes were secure, the lines were placed deep enough to keep them afloat at low tide.
Lines were collected after a predetermined time (see below).
For the first round of experiments, cubes were left in the bay for 24 hours. During this time, essentially all of the control cubes (i.e., without tissue or mucus) were eaten, as were most of the experimental cubes. Nonetheless, fish appeared to eat fewer cubes containing tissue from slugs kept in the light, compared to those kept in the dark.
Because there was concern that missing cubes may have fallen off rather than being eaten, they also tried leaving the cubes in the bay for only one hour. There was a slight decrease in consumption, but the overall result was the same: tissue from dimly-lit slugs was eaten more often than that from well-lit slugs. The students were running out of time for these experiments, so the results are preliminary and nothing is statistically significant.
To summarize several weeks of hard work, it looks like there is something to pursue. The sample sizes are small, but there is a consistent effect of slug tissue in reducing consumption by fishes, and this effect is reduced or eliminated by keeping slugs in the dark. Now that the bugs have been worked out, it will certainly be worth trying the experiment again if there is an opportunity to spend a few weeks making food and setting lines.
Thanks again to the USG Slug Club, who pioneered the foodmaking methods, and took care of the slug system while I was away.
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