cross-posted from: https://r1b.it/post/38416

With mander.xyz being down for so long, I've really started to miss my nerdy science memes. So, being an instance owner, I decided to fix that! !memes@r1b.it is the perfect home for all of your biology, chemistry, physics, math or otherwise scientific shitposts and memes :)

This is a drop-in replacement for the late !science_memes@mander.xyz. Like with my other mander replacement, !herps@r1b.it, I do not expect anyone to stick around if/when mander comes back. This is just a temporary home for all of us science lovers. If you do decide to stay tho, I greatly appreciate it!

Little is known about the long-term effects of deep-sea mining on the organic matter that supports life on the seafloor. However, as interest in mining the deep sea for rare metals grows, there is concern that disturbing the seabed could affect the ecosystems of the deep ocean.

The research: Long-term impacts of deep-sea mining on sediment organic matter quantity and quality

• A scientist who was part of a major 2008 expedition exploring the promise of deep-sea mining writes in a new analysis that what they found offshore of Papua New Guinea ended his enthusiasm for the nascent industry.
• The biodiversity documented by their remotely operated vehicle — added to the fragility and uniqueness of the geology and ecology they documented — was clearly too special to perhaps permanently decimate for electric vehicles and renewable energy.
• “I entered this project in good faith, working with the mining company to help determine whether or not deep-sea mining at Solwara I could be conducted with minimal harm to the marine environment. I exited convinced that there is no viable path forward for hydrothermal vent mining, anywhere in the ocean.”
• This article is an analysis. The views expressed are those of the author, not necessarily of Mongabay.

When I set sail on the MV NorSky in the summer of 2008 to probe the depths of Manus Basin off the coast of Papua New Guinea, I believed in the promise of deep-sea mining. As an early-career deep-sea ecologist, I was swayed by arguments in favor of this emerging industry. It offered a new way to obtain the metals needed for the renewable energy revolution, one allegedly free of the human rights and environmental abuses of terrestrial mining. The company was Nautilus Minerals, and the plan was to mine an active hydrothermal vent field called Solwara I.

What is a hydrothermal vent and why would anyone want to mine one? When seawater is drawn down into the earth and heated under enormous pressure, it rises through cracks in the crust, erupting from the seafloor in metal-rich plumes. Those metals are deposited on the walls of a growing chimney. Deep-sea miners call this structure a seafloor massive sulfide. They can be rich in gold and silver, as well as copper, zinc, lead and rare earth elements.

By most estimates, Solwara I is among the most valuable seafloor massive sulfides ever discovered. And it is not only rich in metals, it is rich with life.

The dumbo octopus is a species only found in the deep sea. Image courtesy of the NOAA Office of Ocean Exploration and Research.

The communities that grow around hydrothermal vents depend on the chemical energy of the vent plume. The geological process that deposits metals also supports ecosystems found nowhere else in the ocean. These vent fields are rare: the total area of all known hydrothermal vent fields is smaller than the island of Manhattan.

Understanding how these rare communities are connected across oceans is critical to understanding how mining could reshape the deep sea. Which is how I found myself aboard this ship, on an expedition to study the biodiversity and connectivity of hydrothermal vent communities at Solwara I.

Hydrothermal vents can be ephemeral. They turn over to a decadal rhythm, with old vents shutting down and new vents opening as the geological forces driving their formation fluctuate. For Nautilus, the dynamic nature of these vents presented an opportunity. Unusual for a hydrothermal vent field, Solwara I lies immediately beneath an active submerged volcano. The natural dynamics of the site present the possibility that the ecosystems it supports could be resilient to mining impacts. Solwara I already experiences natural disturbance. Perhaps it could endure a little unnatural disturbance, too?

It wasn’t a bad hypothesis, but it needed to be tested.

The first thing you see as you approach the towering edifices of Solwara I are squat lobsters, small crustaceans of the genus Munidopsis that look like hermit crabs pulled from their shells. Startled by the lights and noise of our remotely operated vehicle (ROV), the underwater robot we use to study the deep sea, they would launch themselves into the water column. Legs and claws spread wide, they’d drift back to the seafloor.

Only then do you see the vent plumes, great billowing black clouds. Surrounding these plumes are swarms of pale, eyeless shrimp of the genus Chorocaris. The ROV’s lights reflect off a glittering spot on their carapaces, a sensory organ like an eyespot that senses the black-body radiation (thermal electromagnetic radiation) emitted from the vent. These shrimp can “see” the heat of the hydrothermal plume, allowing them to swim close enough to feed, but not so close to boil.

A squat lobster documented in coral at a depth of 669 meters (almost 2,200 feet) on a seamount. Image courtesy of ROV SuBastian / Schmidt Ocean Institute.

You are guided to the mouth of the vent chimney by a bull’s-eye of biodiversity. Two fist-sized snails dominate the vents of Solwara I: a ghostly white snail with a paper-thin shell covered in long, stiff hairs from the genus Alviniconcha, and an abyss-black snail with a thick, heavy shell, from the genus Ifremeria. Alviniconcha prefers the warm waters immediately around the vent outflow, while Ifremeria likes its home a little cooler. Together, they create concentric rings of snails that encircle the vent.

Closer still, scale worms crawl through crevices. Mussels crowd around small cracks where cooler vent plumes emerge from the seafloor. Limpets cling to the shells of Ifremeria, but avoid the bristles of Alviniconcha. Crabs scuttle across mounds of snails. Octopuses and eelpout fish wind through rocky outcroppings. In the sediment, at the base of the chimney, a predatory snail from the genus Eosipho lies in wait for a hapless Alviniconcha or Ifremeria to fall from their perch at the top of the chimney.

Even around the periphery, and among the so-called inactive areas, where hydrothermal venting has slowed or stopped, strange communities form. Predatory glass sponges that look like lollipops hunt for copepods that drift through their domain. Cold-water corals sprout from rocky outcrops, brittle stars wrapped around them. An octopus broods her eggs. A chimera, a cartilaginous fish in the order Chimaeriformes, drifts slowly past the ROV.

What I learned studying the communities that thrive around Solwara I, as well as hydrothermal vents across the Western Pacific, is that, though these ecosystems are dynamic, they are also deeply interconnected. Those connections are fragile. The impacts from mining would be catastrophic to the communities at Solwara I, and the knock-on effects would threaten surrounding ecosystems.

There is a curious paradox in the deep sea: while most of the seafloor is characterized by exceptional biodiversity and extremely low biomass (there are lots of species, but few individuals of those species), hydrothermal vents tend towards the opposite. Biomass is high. Biodiversity is low.

Not so at Solwara I, which hosts both incredible biodiversity and tremendous biomass. Of all the vent ecosystems in the ocean, the hydrothermal vents of the Western Pacific, including Solwara I, are the most biodiverse.

Alviniconcha snails and Austinograeid crabs around a deep-sea hydrothermal vent in the Northern Mariana Islands. Image courtesy of MARUM, University of Bremen and NOAA-Pacific Marine Environmental Laboratory.

Faith displaced

I entered this project in good faith, working with the mining company to help determine whether or not deep-sea mining at Solwara I could be conducted with minimal harm to the marine environment. I exited convinced that there is no viable path forward for hydrothermal vent mining, anywhere in the ocean. Solwara I may present the best-case scenario for mining a hydrothermal vent, but the best-case scenario is not good enough. Nautilus Minerals thought otherwise, and they applied for the world’s first commercial deep-sea mining permit.

Nautilus Minerals received a commercial permit to mine Solwara I from the government of Papua New Guinea in 2011. Despite clearing the last regulatory hurdle, they were never able to start mining. Unable to secure a ship and reeling from several blows to their business, the company went bankrupt in 2019, its assets auctioned off, its three massive mining robots rusting away in Port Moresby. That same year, in response to both growing pressure across the Pacific and increasing local resistance to the Solwara I project, Papua New Guinea instituted a 10-year moratorium on deep-sea mining within its waters.

Today, the deep ocean off the coasts of Alaska, American Samoa, and the Northern Mariana Islands face a renewed threat from deep-sea mining. Though an early pioneer, the United States has long sat on the sidelines of this developing industry.

Now, under directives from the Trump administration, the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management (BOEM) and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration have begun the process of permitting mining across vast regions of the deep seafloor in both U.S. waters and the high seas, beyond any nation’s borders. While most presume that polymetallic nodules, metal-rich cobblestones scattered across the abyssal plain, are the prime target for this new push to mine the deep, the permitting process under consideration and the executive order that kick-started this process include not just nodules, but hydrothermal vents and metal-rich crusts on seamounts.

Just this month, BOEM released its recommendations for leasing areas of the seabed around the Mariana Trench, doubling the size of the initial proposed area and adding 33 million acres (more than 13 million hectares) of seafloor, on which the only potential significant mineral deposits are locked in hydrothermal vent sulfides.

Potential effects of mining-generated sediment plumes and noise on marine creatures. Image courtesy of Drazen, et al. (2020).

Polymetallic nodule mining promises access to the abundant mineral resources of the abyssal plain, including cobalt, nickel and manganese, with a lighter touch than hydrothermal vent or seamount mining. But nodule mining is not without its own environmental risks.

The nodules are habitat, and removing them from the seafloor threatens the animals that depend on them. The sediment plumes produced by mining tools can spread throughout the water column, threatening seafloor ecosystems as well as commercially important fisheries. With significant research and technological advances, those potential impacts may yet be overcome, but nodule mining is not ready, yet.

There’s an argument that permitting is the only thing holding back deep-sea mining, that with the renewed push from the Trump administration to develop the industry through an expedited permitting process, deep-sea mining is inevitable.

Deep-sea mining is a wickedly challenging endeavor. At full scale, commercial deep-sea mining will be among the most logistically complex offshore operations ever undertaken, with robotic technologies as yet unproven. An expedited permit is no guarantee of success: even in the best-case scenario, with a commercial license in hand and mining tools waiting at the dock, Nautilus Minerals failed.

The deep sea does not offer guarantees, except for this: near limitless potential for discovery.

We have barely begun to explore the deepest places on our planet. Less than a tenth of a percent of the deep seafloor has ever been observed. As researchers, explorers and even miners increase our presence in the deep ocean, we will discover new animals, ecosystems and ecological processes. Some, like hydrothermal vent communities, will be so unlike anything seen before that we lack the necessary biological framework to predict their existence.

See a related Mongabay & CNN investigation: China’s deep-sea mining fleet may also track US submarines

Collage of 24 newly described Amphipod species living in the Clarion-Clipperton Zone of the deep sea. Image courtesy of National Oceanography Centre, Southampton, CC BY.

We’ve found octopuses brooding their offspring and skates laying their eggs in the warm waters of diffuse flow vents, for instance. At a long-inactive hydrothermal vent field, scientists discovered more than 30 new species of snail in communities that endure by living off traces of chemical energy that persist long after the vent stops. In the Indian Ocean, we found another surprising snail, this time with a shell made from iron. When brought to the surface and exposed to air, it begins to rust.

Hydrothermal vent mining has largely — but not entirely — fallen out of favor with the principal companies pushing for the rapid development of the deep-sea mining industry, but this potential for discovery is not limited to seafloor massive sulfides.

In a hadal trench, Chinese scientists uncovered a hitherto undiscovered ecosystem, the deepest animal habitat ever observed. In Pacific nodule fields, researchers delighted in the discovery of a whiplash squid that hides among the cobblestones, waiting to ambush its prey. On ferromanganese crusts on the Rio Grande Rise, Brazilian scientists found vibrant communities built atop cold-water coral reefs. On the Blake Plateau, at the site of the very first experimental deep-sea nodule mine from the early 1970s, U.S. researchers documented a coral reef larger than the state of Vermont. It is the largest cold-water coral reef in the world and it wasn’t discovered until half a century after it was almost dredged by a deep-sea miner. This near miss on the Blake Plateau highlights just how easy it is for enormous ecosystems to go unseen in the deep, even in areas being explored for deep-sea mining.

How will deep-sea mining operations respond to the discovery of something truly novel on the seafloor? Within the first two to three years of a full-scale commercial deep-sea mining operation, we will nearly double the amount of time humans have spent observing the deep seafloor. Within the 30-year operational life of a polymetallic nodule mine, the likelihood of discovery is guaranteed, and not just new species of nematodes or interesting snails, but whole ecosystems and ecological processes, with the potential to fundamentally change our understanding of life on Earth.

A discovery on the scale of hydrothermal vent communities or cold-water coral reefs would mandate an operational full stop, a complete overhaul of any environmental management plan, and years, if not decades, of focused study. When deep-sea mining companies are the only ones with the resources and capacity to monitor these sites, how do we safeguard this potential for discovery?

Discovery is inevitable. The tragedy before us now lies in rushing to exploit the deep sea before we understand what we could lose.

Andrew D. Thaler is a deep-sea ecologist, conservation technologist and ocean educator. He is also a Public Voices Fellow on Technology in the Public Interest with The OpEd Project.

Banner image: A squat lobster in the deep sea. Image by Schmidt Ocean Institute (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0).

Banner image: A pair of nudibranchs on coral in Manta Ray Bay, Yap in Micronesia. Image by Betty Wills via Wikimedia (CC BY-SA 4.0).

New conservation effort launched to protect coral reefs in Yap

Conservation groups have launched a new initiative to safeguard coral reefs in Yap, a state in the Federated States of Micronesia, through both scientific innovation and traditional stewardship.

The Yap Resilience Hub, a partnership between The Nature Conservancy (TNC) and the Great Barrier Reef Foundation (GBRF), is a three-year project that seeks to support local conservation efforts through 2028.

“Coral reefs are central to life in Yap and across island communities because they provide food, support livelihoods, and sustain cultural practices,” Berna Gorong, capacity building manager at TNC Micronesia & Polynesia, told Mongabay by email.

The reefs are traditional fishing grounds managed under community and clan tenure and “closely tied to identity, stewardship, and daily life,” Gorong said.

The Yap Resilience Hub plans to rely on a steering committee of government, traditional leaders and community representatives to help identify candidate reef areas for protection. The reefs will be selected based on five criteria, Gorong said, including their ecological condition and potential for recovery, connectivity to other reef systems, and community and governance readiness.

Once priority reefs are identified, she said the project will support local action plans, ensuring that community priorities and local leadership remain at the forefront of the conservation strategy. “Capacity building and capacity-needs assessments will be central so local partners can sustain the work beyond the project period,” Gorong said.

“By pairing community priorities with science, planning, and capacity building, [the project] aims to strengthen reef resilience and support the long-term well-being of Yap’s people and coastal communities,” she added.

While many Micronesian reefs remain relatively healthy compared to other global regions, they face increasing pressure from rising seas and climate change.

Dawnette Olsudong, a researcher at the Palau International Coral Reef Center who has conducted assessments on coral restoration in Yap and isn’t involved in the project, said proactive measures are important.

“I am hopeful that the launch of this project will strengthen our understanding of reef conditions and improve our ability to make informed conservation and restoration decisions,” Olsudong told Mongabay. She noted her research has helped identify sites that communities perceived as degraded and in need of restoration.

The Yap Resilience Hub project is part of the Resilient Reefs Pasifika initiative, funded by the GBRF.

The tiny Amazon molly (Poecilia formosa) has always fascinated researchers because, according to the rules of evolution, it shouldn't have survived as a species, let alone thrive as a species for over 100,000 years. Using advanced genetic mapping and comparison techniques to track how the Amazon molly's DNA has changed over time, a new study set out to uncover the genetic secrets behind this apparent rebellion against evolutionary theory.

The molly undergoes asexual reproduction and gives live birth to its young, which are its clones, because the species is made up entirely of females—much like the all-female Amazonian warriors of Greek mythology, from whom it gets its name, not the Amazon Basin (where it doesn't live).

As per Muller's ratchet, a standard evolutionary theory, they should have gone extinct because clonal organisms accumulate harmful mutations over time due to a lack of genetic diversity.

The genetic evidence from this study, published in Nature, shows that the Amazon molly picks up mutations faster than its sexual relatives, yet somehow avoids the expected genetic decay—the secret behind this surprising act of resilience is gene conversion. This process purges harmful mutations by spotting damaged genes, "copying" a healthy version of the same gene from another part of the fish's own DNA, and "pasting" it over the faulty region to overwrite the mistake.

Accidental origin of the species

The Amazon molly didn't slowly evolve into a new species, it was the result of a 100,000-year-old accident. A long time ago, near Tampico, Mexico, a female Poecilia mexicana mated with a male Poecilia latipinna and created the hybrid—the Amazon molly. Every fish of that species alive today traces its lineage back to that single cross.

Unlike hybrid animals like a liger or mule, which are sterile and cannot reproduce, the Amazon molly is fully capable of reproducing asexually. Inside the mother's ovaries are specialized cells that undergo a modified version of meiosis—a type of cell division in sexually reproducing organisms—where the pairing up of chromosomes from two parents and swapping genetic information before dividing doesn't occur.

Instead, the mother produces eggs that already contain a full, double set of DNA that develops into new fish that are genetically identical to the mother. This form of cloning is called apomixis.

For a long time, scientists believed sexual reproduction was essential for long-term survival because it shuffles genes, removing harmful mutations and combining beneficial ones. The Amazon molly, however, gets the same advantages without ever mating.

Previous studies hinted at its high genetic diversity and signs of gene conversion, but detailed, haplotype-resolved genomic data were still missing.

Clues hidden in the genetic code

In this study, the researchers filled in this knowledge gap by creating a highly detailed and complete map of the entire genetic code for the Amazon molly and its two parent species using advanced long-read sequencing technology.

The researchers combined Hi-C and trio-binning to unravel the Amazon molly's genome. While Hi-C showed how DNA folds into chromosomes, trio-binning separated the two parental DNA sets, letting them study each lineage independently.

They found widespread presence of gene conversion, which supports two different pathways to reverse or correct unwanted genetic mutations: adaptive, or positive, selection, which promotes beneficial genetic mutations that enhance an organism's fitness, and second is purifying, or negative, selection, which helps reduce the presence of harmful genetic variations within a population.

The team also observed a higher rate of genetic repairs happening near DNA that carry crucial biological instructions, such as immunity or cell signaling.

Another fascinating detail revealed by the genome map was that out of the two sets of DNA present in the Amazon molly, one from each ancestral parent, is that the P. mexicana half of the fish's DNA is mutating and changing faster than the P. latipinna half, with changes mirroring those happening to the original species in the wild.

The study sheds light on long-debated questions about the evolutionary costs of asexual reproduction and establishes gene conversion as a powerful mechanism for effectively offsetting the negative effects. The findings give rise to a new question for future studies to explore: Do other long-lived asexual species avoid Muller's ratchet through the same process or is there something completely different at play?

(if you can't see the thumbnail)

Most people walk past pyrosomes on beaches or see videos of scuba divers swimming through them and think they are some kind of massive jellyfish, a giant sack of eggs, or a weird mutant cucumber. However, they're actually a colony of thousands of individual organisms called tunicates!

There exists a single "original" tunicate, and the rest of the tube is made up of thousands of genetic clones that are built over time. They all live inside a single gelatinous tunic and connect within it, sharing a common water intake/exhaust system. Each individual zooid pulls water in, filters out plankton for food, and pushes the filtered water back out into the central tube. That collective exhaust builds and acts like a jet propulsion system, slowly moving the whole giant colony through the water. How cool is that?!

They are also intensely bioluminescent through a chemical reaction known as the "Luciferin-Luciferase reaction". A specialized enzyme (luciferin) oxidizes a light-emitting compound (luciferase) inside small light-producing cells located on each zooid. If you touch one or stimulate the pyrosome with light, it triggers a chain reaction that passes the signal to neighboring cells, creating a wave of blue-green light across the entire colony. Divers have called swimming inside a hollow pyrosome tube "swimming through a tunnel of stars."

What are some of your favorite aquatic weirdos?

Jake Tiffin was filming the usual route around the Farne Islands when he heard an orca surface to breathe—and managed to capture one of the most remarkable moments ever recorded off the English coast: a six-ton killer whale launching itself skyward, spinning through the air, before crashing back down into the North Sea in front of a boat full of astonished tourists.

For decades, orcas had been nearly absent from UK waters. Fishermen and boatmen along the Northumberland coast couldn't remember ever seeing them. But in 2025, after vanishing for 40 to 50 years, these apex predators are returning in numbers that have shocked even experienced mariners. Five verified sightings have been recorded off Northumberland this year alone—a dramatic reversal that has transformed quiet boat tours into once-in-a-lifetime wildlife encounters.

The return matters because it signals both ecological change and hope for marine recovery. The reappearance of apex predators suggests shifting prey populations and improved conditions in waters long stressed by industrial fishing and pollution. For the communities along England's northeast coast, it means witnessing a piece of natural history most thought was gone forever. In April, fishermen spotted a pod of up to 10 orcas near Northumberland. Then on a recent Saturday, tourists aboard the Billy Shiel boat tour near Seahouses encountered what is believed to be one of the largest pods ever documented off the coast: around 30 orcas feeding together. Martin Kitching, coordinator of The North East Cetacean Project, told the BBC that boatmen across every port in the region reported the same surprise. "Now, all of a sudden, sightings—in Northumberland at least—are definitely up."

For the 19-year-old crewman Jake Tiffin, the experience was surreal. At first, the crew mistook the dark shapes for dolphins. But as they drew closer, the scale became undeniable—massive bulls weighing around six tons, calves performing barrel rolls in the water, and individuals measuring 10 to 15 meters in length popping their heads up to regard the boat with what seemed like curiosity. "They were popping their head out of the water to take a look at us," Tiffin recalled. When one orca breached in his frame, all the wonder of that moment crystallized: "To see a creature that big jumping out of the water is mental."

Wildlife experts believe the orcas are drawn by the bounty surrounding the Farne Islands, home to a massive colony of 6,000 seals and seabirds. The creatures, which can measure up to 32 feet long, hunt cooperatively in pods—a social structure refined over millennia. The increased sightings may also reflect more abundant fish supplies in these waters, suggesting conditions are improving for the entire food web these predators depend on.

The return is not without complexity. While orcas as a global species are not listed as endangered, specific local populations face critical threats. The West Coast Community off Scotland represents a unique pod struggling against pollution and other pressures. Yet the thriving populations now feeding off Northumberland offer a counterpoint—evidence that recovery is possible when conditions align. For tourists watching a six-ton animal defy gravity over the North Sea, it feels less like science and more like a gift.

As a SATCOM engineer, this is pretty cool

On a quiet morning in July 2026, patrol boats near Gabon’s Grand Sud Reserve closed in on three unlicensed trawlers hauling nets through protected waters. The catch wasn’t fish—it was evidence. None of the vessels had valid licenses, and all had switched off their tracking systems. But someone was watching from space.

The tip came from Global Fishing Watch, a nonprofit that analyzes satellite data to spot illegal fishing. In a region where industrial trawling is banned to protect marine life, the discovery was a win—and a rare one. Most illegal fishing goes unseen. In 2024, researchers found that 72% to 76% of the world’s industrial fishing vessels vanish from public tracking, especially around Africa and Southeast Asia. With 30,500 kilometers of coastline across 38 nations, Africa loses an estimated $11 billion to $13 billion a year to illegal fishing—money that could feed communities, fund schools, and protect ecosystems.

The problem starts with a simple switch. Ships use automatic identification systems (AIS) to avoid collisions, but crews can turn them off to hide. Many do. Most African governments still rely on this self-reporting system, even though it’s easy to cheat. That’s beginning to change. In June 2026, 15 countries—including Somalia and six other African nations—signed a pledge at the Our Ocean Conference in Mombasa to share ownership and location data of fishing vessels.

But there’s a better way to watch the oceans: from space, directly. A team at the University of Florida, led by aerospace engineer Norman Fitz-Coy and Ph.D. candidate the author, designed a satellite system tailored for equatorial waters like the Somali Basin—one of the world’s richest tuna grounds. Instead of using polar orbits that waste time over empty poles, their model uses 24 satellites tilted just 20 degrees from the equator. This setup scans the basin every 1.1 hours—more than three times as often as traditional systems.

The tech exists, but it’s not just about eyes in the sky. Radar sensors spot vessels as bright dots, but identifying them requires sharp images taken on the fly. The satellites must decide in seconds which dots to zoom in on. And with only minutes of power per orbit, they must also sort and send just the most important data. Ground stations in Malindi, Kenya, and Hartebeesthoek, South Africa, help download it—but there aren’t enough.

Still, the biggest challenge isn’t technical. It’s human. Satellites can’t board ships or prosecute crimes. They need coastal nations to act—to patrol, to cooperate, and to care. As the research shows, the tools to stop illegal fishing are within reach. What’s needed now is the will to use them.

I used to back in the day, but not too much anymore. I recently checked to see how he was doing, and his views have TANKED. Kinda sad ngl. He does good work

I know we're already half-way through October, but I want to start a little tradition where we nominate and vote for a species to feature each month. I'll then do some research and make a cute little post about them (your help is greatly appreciated!).

So, let's begin the nominations for October's species of the month! To make a nomination, simply create a post in !marine featuring your nominee. And think of more than just fish! I'll take anything that lives in the water, from aquatic mammals to deep-sea bacteria. You don't have to explicitly mention "species of the month", either -- it could be an article, appreciation post, or something else entirely.

You have until the first of the month when I make the post! I'll be sure to make a follow-up post beforehand with a handful of the most popular species that I've noticed

Hey c/marine — I make a small guide called Read Wrong: ten sea creatures, each with one sourced fact that undercuts the postcard version. It started from an itch about how much work a label does. Most of us copy the label before we've actually looked at the animal.

The entry that reframed the whole thing for me is Steller's sea cow. It got read as endless meat — so big, so slow, so many — and it was gone 27 years after it was scientifically described. The label that kills isn't "worthless." Worthless leaves you alive to argue. Infinite leaves nothing underneath to protect.

The other nine (plus the one still going) are here, each tagged with what kind of claim it's actually making, honest count printed: https://telegra.ph/Read-Wrong-Ten-Sea-Creatures-10-18

It's free to read, no signup. I wrote it, so call it self-promo if that's your line — but every fact carries a source and corrections are welcome. Which creature here do you think people read most wrong?

cross-posted from: https://r1b.it/post/7471

The first Weekly Croak! I know it won't be the one-week mark until tomorrow, but I want to post these on Saturdays, lol.

Thank you all!

It's only been one week since I created r1b.it, but I'm already amazed by the amount of support I've gotten. I may not have any applicants to join the instance yet, but there are almost 150 total subscribers across our three communities! I was expecting to be talking to ghosts for at least the first couple weeks, but it seems like I have a notification every single time I check. My numbers may be small, but the fact that they're already above 0 is super fulfilling. I'm already starting to recognize a few familiar faces ;)

Amenities, amenities, amenities

I originally just wanted to dip my toes into running an instance. As such, my current setup is all very cheap and "ad-hoc" because I wanted to make it easy to tear down and undo if I decided it wasn't for me. I've decided that it most definitely is, so I want to begin investing into upgrading my current setup, optimizing and configuring instance settings, and proving additional amenities to you all. I'm not quite sure what that will look like, which is why I'm coming to you for support. Perhaps it could just be a Matrix server? Maybe a wiki? A game server like Minecraft or Terraria? Maybe even static hosting with custom subdomains! It could be pretty cool to make a Single Sign-On "suite" of r1b.it services later down the line.

Though, regardless of what we land on, I want it to be for you, so please give me suggestions for what you might want to see. I want to hear your ideas, even if you're not a r1b.it user yourself. I don't even care how feasible it is, lol. Big or small, fully fleshed out or just the tip, I wanna hear it.

On to week 2!

Once again, I just want to say thanks for the support. I'm super motivated to keep going and provide as much as I can to you all. Hopefully that motivation will only keep the snowball rolling and grow it into something even bigger. This has been a fantasic week, and I can't wait to see what the next few hold :)

cross-posted from: https://r1b.it/post/5660

I think r1b.it beginning to carve it's niche in all things nature and non-fluffy animals. That kinda works out given the name and theme, lol.

Anyway, this niche is certainly... niche, but it isn't completely untapped on the Fediverse. As such, I'm looking for communities that overlap with !herps@r1b.it, !marine@r1b.it, or even the r1b.it instance as a whole so I can link them in their respective sidebars.

I don't believe in consolidating users into individual communities. I think supporting similar communities helps decentralize the Fediverse, which is kinda the whole point, right? I don't want to dominate any particular field; I want to share it. So please, help me find things to link :)

"Late on November 27, the British Divers Marine Life Rescue (BDMLR) received a call that would lead to one of the most significant cetacean sightings in recent UK history. A live-stranded whale had been found on a midnight beach in Trearddur Bay, Wales—and it turned out to be something truly exceptional.
The animal was a female pygmy sperm whale, measuring just 1.7 meters long. For context, there are fewer than 20 recorded sightings of this species in the entire UK. These elusive deep-water cetaceans are rarely seen alive, and encounters with this mysterious toothed whale are treasured events in marine science.
The young whale, likely still dependent on her mother or recently weaned, bore significant injuries from her stranding. Despite the best efforts of BDMLR Medics, attending veterinarians, and Coastguard rescue teams who worked through the night in cold, windy conditions, the animal was too compromised to be successfully returned to the sea. The decision was made to humanely euthanize her to end her suffering.
Yet even in this tragic situation, science prevailed. The necropsy and tissue collection provided invaluable data about this poorly understood species. Pygmy sperm whales possess one of nature’s most remarkable defense mechanisms: the ability to release an ink-like fluid from their gut, similar to the tactics of squids. By studying this individual’s biology, genetics, and health status, researchers gained crucial insights into the species’ lifestyle, threats, and physiology—knowledge that could help protect populations in the wild."