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May 18, 2006 - A world clothed in greenThe Suffolk Times • May 18, 2006 The dance of the sandworm LA ,- Suffolk Times photo by Barbara Stoutenburgh Most of us wouldn't consider a worm beautiful, but in the eyes of a sand - worm, the opposite sex, with its changing iridescent colors, is what it's all about. Each spring, the full moons and high spring tides find these dancing in our creeks in what to them is a ballet of reproduction. IT LOOKED LIKE THE perfect eve- ning to try for weakfish at the mouth of the creek. It took a little time to convince Barbara it wouldn't be 0o cold out there, but just in case, I old her to put on an extra sweater nd, oh yes, to bring along a pair of loves. Little did I know that later, hen I was busy fishing, she would roduce a steaming cup of hot coffee long with a devilish smile. I tried here and there, where I'd always gotten weakfish,before, but not a strike. How come? The lilacs were out — that was supposed to be a sure sign the weaks were in, but that was years ago. Then that electronic com- panion of Barbara's started to ring. She pushed some cottons on ner cell pnone anu i wuiu sear an excited voice telling her some - hing was going on in another part A the creek. It seems Bob had gone lown to the dock to check on his boat, Nhen his flashlight happened to shine nto the water. What he saw boggled nis mind. Everywhere he pointed his light, he told us, there were wiggling, fish -like creatures charging about. `You've got to see them!" he said. That was enough for me; fishing would have to wait. I told Bob, "We're out fishing but we'll head right in and be over." And so our plans were changed and we were off on another mini adventure. We sped back to the dock, with spray flying as we hit an oc- racional high wave. Then we were into the creek, where we slowed down. By the time we got to the dock it was almost dark. How come dangling hooks seem to have a special knack of catching onto boat cushions, anchor lines and, yes, even my jacket? But again, Barbara was one step ahead of me and had brought along a flashlight, which came in mighty handy in the "unhooking operation. " With the poles finally attached to the rack on the roof of the car, we headed for Bob's place a few miles away on another branch of the creek When we got there, Bob repeated his story. "In all my years living on the creek I have never seen anything like this before. You'll see, they're all over the place." With his flashlight help- ing us along our way to the dock, we seemed to move faster and faster, afraid this mystical event might be over before we got there. Once on the dock, Bob turned a large spotlight he'd brought along on the water and immediately we could see what he was talking about. Incred- ible masses of two- and three -inch worm -like bodies were whirling about in the light. Could they be doing some kind of courtship ritual? They moved so fast it was hard to figure out just what they were. I had stopped by our house on the way over and picked up a fine mesh net that I immediately put in the water. It was no problem getting five or 10 bodies in one scoop. Back I went for scoop after scoop, bringing in they went. We'd take them home for positive identification. Bob shone his light out on the wa- ter and as far as the beam could go, there were little "blips" where these creatures broke the surface of the water in their mad dash after each other in what seemed to be some sor, of mystical dance of ecstasy. For half an hour we watched in amazement, anxious to get back home to identify our mystery dancers. We thanked Bo' for letting us in on this unusual event one we'd learn later takes place each year when we have extra -high spring tides that trigger "the mating game" — the spectacle we'd just witnessed. Back home with our bucket of madly swimming creatures, we were able to see more clearly just what they were. We went to our reference books and found the exact descrip- What tion of what we were triggers witnessing. They were sandworms, this show also known by some of shows? as clamworms, go- ing through their colorful display of courting. Some seemed to hang in mid water and others vibrated the whole length of their body then dashed away. Once I saw a reddish worm release tiny eggs. One book says once the female releases her eggs, the blue -green iridescent males pass over the eggs, fertilizing them with a cloud of sperm. The bucket lit- erally was alive with both males and females. Man has only peeked into the goings -on of these dancers in their water world. What triggers this show of shows? And why and where at the end of a night of ecstasy do they all disappear? Yet each year the perfor- mance is repeated, with few of us eve knowing what .goes on in our creeks. What do spring tides and full moons have to do with these outbreaks of elaborate courtship? We know so little about the world we live in. Yes, we know some of its mysteries. We've even capitalized on these lowlv creatures by creating FOCUS ON NATURE by Paul Stoutenburgh N, Suffolk Times photo by Paul Stoutenburgh Lilacs are blooming and weakfish should be in. If you head out to fish, dress warm, for these spring evenings can get cold on the water. worm farms, where the sandworms are raised and sent out to the fishing world, for they make one of the most expensive but best baits for a wide range of saltwater fish. Yet the word "worm" turns many people off. Most put up with the com- mon earthworm, which, by the way, is closely related to the sandworm. I've seen the roughest, toughest men squirm when it came to picking up a sandworm or putting a worm on a fishhook. Perhaps it's because sand - worms can bite. Yes, they have power ful, scissor -like pincers that can nip if you don't know one end of the worm from the other. Anyone who has poked around our creeks and bays has probably at one time or another come across a sand - worm or two. They live in burrows and under rocks, where they hide during the daylight hours, coming out only when it's dark to search out small bits of marine life that venture near their burrow. It was an exciting night for both Barbara and me. We thanked Bob again for calling us so we could see the famous mating game of the lowly sandworm. One never knows what will turn up on an evening's fishing trip; the natural world never ceases to amaze us.