Anyone who has spent much time along
the Rhode Island coast is familiar with one of the most ancient creatures on
Earth, the horseshoe crab. More closely related to spiders and scorpions than
to crabs, they evolved more than 300 million years ago, long before the
dinosaurs, and they have remained mostly unchanged ever since. With 10 eyes,
blue blood, and six pairs of appendages, they can look somewhat frightening. Just
don’t believe claims that their tail – called a telson – is poisonous or can
sting. Not true.
What is true about these remarkable
creatures is that horseshoe crabs are far less common at their spawning grounds
than they used to be. The days of seeing hundreds or thousands of horseshoe
crabs scurrying about in local coves are mostly over. And their decline has
implications for a whole host of other marine life. Some sea turtles, for
instance, feed on horseshoe crabs, and many shorebirds, including the very rare
red knot, consume horseshoe crab eggs to fuel their migration northward. Humans,
too, depend on these surprising animals, because their unusual copper-based
blood has properties that are used by the biomedical industry to ensure that
our medical devices, vaccines and intravenous solutions are free of harmful
bacteria.
The cause of their decline is
somewhat uncertain, though large numbers are harvested for use as bait in the
eel and conch fisheries. They also get stranded on beaches and accidentally
flipped upside down by waves, which gives gulls and other predators easy access
to their sensitive parts. And some die during the process of draining a portion
of their blood for biomedical testing.
In Rhode Island, assessments of
horseshoe crab populations by state and federal agencies have found them at “low
levels of abundance” ever since a management plan was put in place in 1999. Scott
Olszewski, a marine fisheries biologist at the Rhode Island Department of Environmental
Management, who conducts spawning surveys at several area beaches, said that
despite efforts to manage the population, their numbers have not rebounded.
About 30 to 40 fishermen obtain permits each year to harvest horseshoe crabs in
the state, and they are allowed to take up to 14,500 for use as bait and
another 34,000 for the biomedical industry (though those in the latter category
are released back where they were captured after some of their blood has been
collected).
“When horseshoe crabs decide it’s
time to spawn, they come up on the beach in massive numbers, which makes
harvesting them pretty easy,” said Olszewski. That’s why the fishing season
often closes just a few days or weeks after spawning begins.
Other scientists are now paying
close attention to horseshoe crabs as well. Researchers at Sacred Heart University are overseeing teams of volunteers who are monitoring them at multiple
locations in Long Island Sound, including at Napatree Point in Westerly. And
others are doing the same on Cape Cod and in the Mid-Atlantic States.
At Napatree, volunteers led by the
Watch Hill Conservancy go out at high tide on full moon nights from May through
July to count and tag the animals. It’s an enjoyable few hours working by
moonlight to the sound of the lapping waves, and it helps provide insight into
the natural history of an ecological oddity that will likely outlive us all.
To learn more about becoming a
horseshoe crab volunteer at Napatree, contact the Watch Hill Conservancy at napatreenaturalist@gmail.com. And if you see large numbers of spawning
horseshoe crabs at other coastal locations, report them to Olszewski at scott.olszewski@dem.ri.gov.
This article first appeared in The Independent on May 19, 2016.