Nothing scientific about juvenile insults
Nothing scientific about juvenile insults
I would like to take the time to comment on Tom Munden’s recent letter to the editor, which appeared on Sunday, May 9.
I appreciate Tom’s interest in our recent success at Kanaloa Octopus Farm, and his thirst for more scientific detail and the use of proper terminology. My appreciation, however, ends there. In his letter, Tom insists that all octopus are born as miniature adults and do not have anything like a larval stage. This is simply not true.
Let me start by saying that Tom’s statement might have some validity in the use of the term “larva.” There has been much scientific debate on whether the strict dictionary definition of the term can be applied to the planktonic stage of newly hatched cephalopods. However, the solution came about in a 1988 paper by Young and Harmen, which proposed the term “paralarva” to describe the post-hatching stage that is planktonic and has a different mode of life than juveniles, sub-adults and adults. The suffix “para” is Latin for “almost” or “nearly.” They go on to say that “the term ‘paralarva’… does not compete with the developmental terms ‘larva’ and ‘juvenile.’ Technically, a young cephalopod can be both a ‘larva’ and a ‘paralarva,’ or a juvenile and a ‘paralarva.’”
Regardless of the terminology, the baby octopus that were hatched in my lab were most certainly not miniature versions of the adults, and I invite Tom to come and see the pictures and videos we have in the lab. Tom’s seemingly benign insult toward me, my alma mater, and the Oceanic Institute, is, in the dictionary definition of the word, juvenile.
Jacob Conroy
Owner, CEO of Kanaloa Octopus Farm
DU, PTA and what it was like
I worked at Pohakuloa Training Area for 12 years, from 1986-1998 as a federal civil servant. I was part of a crew responsible for construction and maintenance of all the live fire ranges and supporting deployed units using those ranges.
On numerous occasions, we were tasked to build specialty targets to be inserted into the impact area, usually by helicopter. An OH-58 spotter helicopter with a range officer on board directed traffic via hand-held radios, we had two three-man crews on two Hueys with an explosive ordnance disposal (EOD) on each. A UH-60 Blackhawk would sling load the plywood targets to the designated area. When we approached the target site, they wouldn’t land for fear of unexploded ordnance and we had to jump a couple of feet to the ground.
We approached the UH-60 on foot with the EOD guy in the lead clearing the path. We were under the UH-60 as it released the plywood targets. We had to lay on top of the targets to prevent rotor wash from sucking them into the rotor of the Blackhawk. The EOD guy would set timed fuses on ordnance he found in the area and we would move on to the next target location.
Our crew assisted the PTA Fire Department fighting range fires. I remember the ground shaking when a large round went off in the fire. Every day was a new adventure at PTA. That was one of the best parts of the job.
Almost daily maintenance of the live fire ranges was required, especially during deployments, to include generators, 12-volt batteries and individual solar panels that made the targets go up and down.
At 6,500 feet in elevation in the Saddle, the wind was always blowing, it was hot and dry and particulate was in the wind.
Yes, I’m concerned about long-term effects on the human body. It’s been almost 20 years since I worked on the ranges and in the impact area. A baseline study needs to be set up to collect data and evaluate depleted uranium contamination.
John Northrup
Ocean View