A Visit to the Monterey Bay Aquarium (August 13, 2007)

While visiting Palo Alto and its environs for a family reunion last week I broke away to the CA coast for the day to visit one of the up-and-coming aquaria in the United States, the Monterey Bay Aquarium ("MBA"). Situated directly on Monterey Bay, not more than a few miles from the Monterey Canyon (which reaches a depth of 10,000 feet just a few miles from shore, making it the deepest ocean canyon on the West Coast) and on the street (Cannery Row) made famous by John Steinbeck in a novel of that name from the mid-20th century, is this Aquarium. It opened to the public in 1984 after seven years of planning and building, and is situated on the site of the former Hovden cannery. This essay will briefly tell you about one aspect of "Aquarium history" and then recount a few things I saw on a picture-perfect Monday in August when I visited the MBA with a friend.

Aquariums in America

Most cultural or artistic attractions in America owe their origin to European predecessors. Aquaria are no different. Designed in the mid-19th century in London and Dublin, the first aquaria were built on a philosophy that only could have grown up in the 19th century--that nature in its diversity was to be appreciated for its own sake and not simply to be exploited for its economic potential. The aquarium "movement" came to the United States in the last half of the nineteenth century through the unlikely channel of PT Barnum, who had traveled to England to enhance the collections of the American Museum in New York, which he had just sold to pay off some debts. Though he was more interested in showing off the "freaks" of nature for popular consumption than of cultivating scientific interest, some of his successors in NY and Boston began a tradition of independent-standing aquaria, for the education as well as entertainment of people, in their cities. By the late 19th century, the aquarium was established alongside of the natural history and art museums as a staple in the big city cultural attractions.

The Monterey Bay Aquarium

Sardine packing began on "Sardine Street" in Monterey early in the 20th century. As early as the 1910s, however, a suggestion was made to locate an aquarium on the street. Instead of founding an aquarium, the effort foundered and would not come to fruition until the 1970s. Why? Well, it is a story about a dad and two of his girls. Dads (as well as moms) love to do things for their daughters, and rich dads are no different. So, at the encouragement two of his daughters, one of whom had done work in marine biology at Moss Landing (the research station near Monterey run by a consortium of seven California state university campuses) and one who studied marine algae at UC Santa Cruz, high-tech pioneer David Packard, along with his wife Lucile, provided a "one-time personal gift" of $55 million (yes, you read that right) in the late 1970s to construct the aquarium. One might say that this was the most signficant CA gift for the sake of a child since Leland and Jane Standford founded a university and dedicated it to the memory of their son, Leland Jr., in 1891. It might be of little surprise to learn that the Executive Director of the Aquarium when it opened in 1984 was none other than Julie Packard. In any case, with this show of support behind it, the MBA was off to a flying start. With the riches of the canyon just miles away, the joint effort of a research station with its boats and underwater equipment nearby (which Packard got going in 1987 with a $13 million gift), and the funds and concern of the Packards and others, the MBA was ready to take off into, to mix metaphors, the stratosphere of aquaria. One can check out their excellent web page for description not only of exhibits at the MBA but also for pictures of the dozens of fish and other marine life that reside in the canyon and the MBA.

At the Aquarium

With the cool coastal breeze in our face and the warm CA sun at our back, we entered the aquarium and immediately were entranced by the "deep sea" and "kelp forest" exhibits, but the most arresting of all for me was the "jelly" exhibit. Now, just to get things straight, this wasn't the jelly that Smuckers sells; it was an exhibit of Sea Nettles and Jellyfish of striking colors and movement.

Before I speak briefly about the Jellyfish, however, I should mention a few facts we learnd from an aquarium "intro" presentation. What I didn't really know is that even though the ocean covers about 2/3 of the earth's surface, it includes about 99% of the livable space in our world. That is, terrestrial objects only live on the land or in the air immediately above the land, while sea creatures can live anywhere in the depths of the sea, which sink to more than 30,000 feet in some places. Of the 99% of the livable space in our world, the "deep sea" (i.e., where light no longer penetrates) occupies about 95% of it. Thus, most of the space for living in our world is "in the dark." Not only is this a great metaphor for the way that most of us live our lives, but it is sobering to those who think that the entire universe, or its most important elements, are right before our eyes. Though most of the livable space in our world is in the deep sea, only 2% of the deep sea has been studied. New species of living creatures are found almost every time a university or aquarium or museum launches an exploratory mission to the deep. Thus, for all our knowledge, scientific capacity, instruments and money, we are still very much "in the dark" about what constitutes our world.

Concluding with the Jelly's

The most fascinating exhibit to me and my friend in the aquarium was the pulsating, throbbing, gliding, multi-colored, tangled world of jellies. There were the lacy pinkish tentacles of the black sea nettle, the huge expanse of the lion's mane jelly (whose bell can reach nearly nine feet across), the graceful movement of the nearly transparent crystal jelly, the appropriately-named egg yolk jelly and several other varieties of sea nettle and jellies. When looking at these umbrella-shaped creatures with their pulsating movements, one has the sense that they are mysteriously in sync with the rhythms of the universe, rhythms that we can only learn if we be quiet and pay very close attention. Pictures of many of these jellies, as well as many other fish, can be found here on the MBA website.

In the last few months I have been pursuing my interest in natural history with relative abandon. The world of undersea life brings with it a slew of new creatures and vocabulary. You have salps and copepods and bioluminescence and tunicates and photophores and cnidarians and ctenophores (the last two are famous spelling bee words). Indeed, you have nearly the whole world opening up to you. As my friend and I enjoyed a picture-perfect lunch at the Schooners Bistro of the Plaza Hotel (about 1/2 mile down Cannery Row from the MBA), we mused about the words and world under the sea just a few feet from our table. My friend was wondering whether she had bioluminescence, while I was trying to remember which fish reminded me of people I knew. In the end, I concluded that I was just getting a glimpse of a glimpse of life. And, I coudn't be happier.

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