Showing posts with label gloucester. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gloucester. Show all posts

Monday, July 11, 2016

New England's Worst Sea Monster?


Massachusetts has several sea monsters in her history.

Daniel Webster saw a sea serpent off of Duxbury, and Gloucester had numerous modern serpentine sightings. Moby Dick is tied to us to a small extent, and Jaws is tied to us to a great extent. We are the new, hip place for Great White Sharks to go, and we even had a Killer Whale in town last week. Lovecraft knew what he was doing when he put Arkham in Massachusetts.

However, our nastiest, ickiest sea monster is larger than a Blue Whale, and the only thing on Earth larger than it is a distant cousin of it. 

There's no way to avoid it, as it goes where the ocean pushes it. We have no sensors to detect the presence of it, and we don't know if one is around until people start being injured by the hundreds. 

Bullets don't harm it, a missile would go right through it, it survived an asteroid strike and you can hack it to pieces without lessening the danger it poses. Oh yeah, it's positively dripping with poison. It may also be immortal.

It'd take a shipload of Hit Points to kill one of those, huh? Thankfully, Godzilla incinerated this monster with his nuclear fire-breath in that 1970s movie, right? Wait... what??

It's real???

No...

Yes.

This monster that we speak of is a Lion's Mane Jellyfish. The LJM is a species of Cnidarian, a phylum that encompasses the Jellyfish family.

It is prevalent in the northern Atlantic, as it prefers colder water. They can not tolerate warmer waters, and are rarely found below 42 degrees north latitude. They dine on zooplankton, just like other giant creatures do. They are pelagic (open ocean) for most of their lives, but they tend to drift into bays as the currents dictate.

It is the largest known jellyfish, and holds the World's Largest Thing title if you don't count stretched-out Bootlace Worms. Massachusetts holds the world record for LJM (and, thusly, everything else), a feat they performed when a LJM washed ashore in a town that I cant find the name of. If anyone knows, hit me up in the comments.

This Lion's Mane Jellyfish that washed up in Massachusetts was 7 feet across. The tentacles, when stretched out, were over 120 feet long. The largest Blue Whales are about 20 feet shorter. That's a lot of jelly! You'd have to slaughter every character that Charles Schultz ever drew to make a corresponding amount of Peanuts Butter to get a PB&J out of that sucker, and that's before we find a football field's worth of bread to house the whole sandwich.

Most of that length is Tentacle, and each of those tentacles is lined with poisonous barbs that would break off into human skin quite nicely. The barbs get fired off like harpoons any time something- like you- touches the tentacle. The poison, while generally not fatal to a healthy adult, can cause critical burns. A jellyfish has thousands of such tentacles.

Now, something like that floating around in the middle of the ocean isn't much of a problem for most of us, and is just a small part of the general Cowardice that keeps me from doing things like Carnival Cruises or joining the Navy. 

However, there is nothing to stop one of these creatures from washing ashore in Massachusetts. What beach it hit depends entirely on the currents.

from USGS

"Washes ashore in Massachusetts" doesn't mean "one washed up here, once, in 1870." We are well within the range of these things, and they have inflicted mass injury in New England before.

Rye, New Hampshire is a nice place to go beaching. However, it wasn't so nice in July of 2010. A LMJ the size of a trash can lid with 20-25 foot tentacles washed into a group of bathers. Officials attempted to remove it, which only broke it up into innumerable pieces.

This, plus the wave action that breaks jellyfish apart, loosed the barbs from the tentacles, and the sea around Rye was a puddle of pain. The barbs can sting long after the jellyfish is dead, and long after their removal from the host creature.

Thinking that the danger had passed, bathers in Rye went back into the water... water that was filled with microscopic, poisonous, floating barbs. Over 150 people were injured

Most of the injuries were minor, because, as bad as it was, swimming into a spread-out infestation of barbs is different than directly contacting a LJM and getting thousands of stings at once. Still, five people needed to be taken to the hospital. The rest were treated on-site with vinegar and baking soda. Old salts swear by meat tenderizer, as well.

As you can see from my handy map of the currents off Massachusetts, had that beast not become trapped in the surf off Rye, it very easily could have moved with the currents down the Massachusetts, visiting Boston, Plymouth, Cape Cod...

You won't know that it's here... until the screaming starts. If you see it, it's already too late.

photo by Dan Hershman

Monday, November 2, 2015

Massachusetts Town Names That No One Else Can Pronounce


Scituate

Sort of like "sit chew it," but not really.


Leicester

"Molester" without the first name of the slap-happy Stooge. Remember, the "r" is non-rhotic.


Billerica

Silent "e," and "rica" is pronounced like My Friend Flicka.


Gloucester

The people who make the Gorton's Of Gloucester commercials pronounce it wrong. It's actually sort of like "Gloss Stir"... if you pronounce that last R, that is.


Worcester

I was a security guard at the Worcester Centrum one year, and I saw Kenny Rogers botch this one. "Me and the boys travel across the land, but we always love it when we come back to War Chester." Someone up front shouted the proper word, causing Rogers to make a confused face and say, a bit more properly, something that sounds a bit like Rooster. The town is sometimes pronounced like the steak sauce, and vice-versa.


Somerville

The best way I can explain this without maxing out the syllable-syllable-syllable thing is to say that the Beach Boys or the Heat Miser should live here. Ironically, this is where Winter Hill is.


Leominster

Lemon-stir, quite possibly named so that people with a jar of water and some sugar would never forget how to make lemonade. Bree Sisson, the WBZ newsie from Jacksonville, always stumbles over this one. I forgive her.


Chicopee

Sort of like "chicory," but not really. This mostly just fools foreigners, but it fools them badly.



Sandwich

One thing that I discovered when I moved to Cape Cod is that about 20% of the people I know pronounce this as "Sammich." It goes up to 35% if the town name is dropped mid-sentence.


Tyngsborough

"Ting," not "Tying." Also, note the over-lettering of what should be "boro." Many towns, including Middleboro and Foxboro, refuse to use the ugh ending. No, none of these town names end in a way that rhymes with "cough."


Rehoboth

People who write dictionaries- who may just have one guy who specializes in the little ruh-hoe-buth parts of dictionaries- know how to tell you how to pronounce this. I can't do it, at least not in print.


Cataumet, Waqouit, Weqauquet, etc...

Cape Cod's town names are easy, but they make up for it by having impossible village names.


Woburn

The "o" is pronounced exactly like the "u" is pronounced in "tuba," because... well, f*ck you.


Haverhill

More "shave" than "have." A rare pronounced R sound in a Massachusetts town name.


Cotuit

"O" as "uh," then the last part of "Do it to it." Yes, the "o" is a "u" sound and the "u" is an "o" sound. We may one day be invaded by a foreign power, but they will not sneak up on us if they have to talk at all.


Fairhaven

You'd think that "fair" is in this word, but you'd be wrong. The "ir" was put in that word just to fool the British. The remainder of the prefix is pronounced like a longer way to run... provided that The Sound Of Music is set in Mission Hill.



Duxbury

Childe Stephen made a relatively quick leap from Dorchester to Quincy to Duxbury in the 1970s. Duxbury is about where, after Busing, the Boston accent runs into the more clipped Cape Cod accent. I spent 4th and 5th grade being removed from regular class for Speech Therapy, and all of it was me, over and over, having to say words like "farther" and "carnivore" as they exorcised my Southie accent like I was Regan MacNeil. As for pronouncing Duxbury, some people pronounce the end like Miss Sisson's first name, some say it sort of like "berry," and some say it sort of like the last part of Kitty Purry. The first part is like "Ducks," and not at all like Frank Dux from Bloodsport.


Tyringham

"Tier," not Tie."


Cochituate

Next....


Hyannis

More "Buy Ann this" than "Uranus."


Nahant

Just as confusing backwards as forwards.


Eastham

Looks easy enough. The end can be a deal-breaker. I threw this article up on the Eastham FB page, and there is some debate ongoing. 'Ham or 'Hum, choose your side wisely. It is tied very heavily into how one pronounces "Chatham." I'm an Upper Cape guy, this is Outer Cape stuff, and I can't be the one who makes the call.


Housatonic

Should be in Texas, and used as an adverb.


Wellesley

Also should be used as an adverb.


Mattapoisett

This isn't that hard to pronounce, but you have to stare at it for a second before you do so.



Quincy

Your favorite TV coroner pronounces his own name wrong, there's a Z in this.


Assinnippi

A little bit of Mississippi, in Norwell.


Assonet

Sounds like a crude name for pantyhose.


Cambridge

More "I came, I saw..." rather than Cam Neely's first name.


Padanaram

The nice part of Dartmouth, but it sounds like a level of Hell.


Truro

A rare Massachusetts word that pronounces both "r" sounds. It fools people who try to fake a Boston accent by dropping every "r." The actor who portrayed Cliff Clavin would have Jacksonian seizure if "Truro" came up mid-sentence on the teleprompter.


Amherst

No "H."


Acushnet

"A cushy net," minus the "y." The town seems to be named after a hammock.


Groton

Rhymes with "cotton," I think. I don't get there much.


Athol