This is the time of year that hundreds of Horseshoe Crabs come ashore to spawn. One of their known habitats is Great Bay, New Jersey. Great Bay is a large bay dividing Ocean County, and Atlantic County, New Jersey.
Horseshoe crabs aren’t true crabs or crustaceans, but are chelicerates, and are most closely related to arachnids, such as spiders and scorpions. They live primarily in and around shallow coastal waters on soft, sandy or muddy bottoms. During a spring full moon and high tide, which we just witnessed, they tend to spawn in the intertidal zone. They have been around, and haven’t changed much for about 480 million years, and are sometimes referred to as living fossils.
During the mid-eighties, I was still living and working in New York City. I had been diving for fifteen years, and had just become a PADI divemaster. I also owned a sailboat, which was moored at City Island, in the Bronx. Now I was looking for a weekend home by the water. A friend told me of a community in southern New Jersey, called Mystic Island.
The community of Mystic Island was dug out of the wetlands, about twenty years before. For quite a number years, the area supported huge radio antennas. These antennas were supported by gigantic cement blocks. The story goes that the German Government leased these radio antennas. It is also said that the order to sink the ship Lusitania in New York Harbor was transmitted through these antennas. Consequently, the antennas were dismantled.
Then the area was sold to a developer, who dug out the wetlands to form a series of canals leading to Great Bay. The material from the new canals were deposited to form land, so houses could be built. The houses were very basic two-bedroom homes. Of course, the biggest feature was that each house had a forty-foot dock. They couldn’t remove the cement blocks, so they built the canals around them.
Having visited the area, I quickly bought a house there. Now I had a weekend getaway from the city, and a place to keep my sailboat, and the motorboat I bought there. Okay, you’re saying what has this got to do with Horseshoe Crabs? Well, just a short walk on this dusty road was Great Bay. There was a marina, and a small restaurant. There was also a small, protected sandy beach, for the resident’s use. One weekend, probably about this same time, I strolled to the beach to witness dozens of Horseshoe Crabs clamoring onto the beach to spawn. I also witnessed what really saddened me. There was a half-dozen teen-age girls, horrified by what was happening. They were really frightened by these harmless creatures. They thought that their tails were poisonous. Actually, they didn’t understand poison from venom, much less that they were completely harmless. I asked them how long they had been living in the community. I was told all their lives, and also that their fathers made their livelihood in the boating and fishing industry. It really devastated me, that parents with knowledge of the sea, could not teach their children the very basics about it. Very sad.
I vowed to change that if the opportunities ever presented itself. Unfortunately, the opportunity did present itself twenty-years later, either by circumstance or design. It was when I was a refugee from Hurricane Katrina, now living in Mobile, Alabama. I started working for the Dolphin Island’s Sea Lab, and Estuarium. I was an aquarist, working, feeding, and taking care of the animals. We had a “touch tank,” and two of the residents were a male, and female Horseshoe Crab. It was a great experience explaining to visitors, especially children about these wonderful creatures. The other animal I bonded with was the octopus. My first encounters with an octopus started on my night dives, especially the many times I spent on Bonaire. Another time I was diving off of Palos Verdes, just south of Los Angeles. The spot was where the old aquarium stood. There was a small, very rocky beach below. So, suited up in my dry-suit, I couldn’t believe how cold the Pacific was, I descended into this cavern, which held a wonderful variety of marine life. There was a series of rocky ledges, with various size holes. One held an average size octopus, and it would come out if you put your hand in the hole, so it could touch it with one of its arms.
I always enjoy talking to adults, and children, urging them to explore our underwater world, even if they just snorkel.
