Nature writers have found it convenient to refer to the bioluminescent ones as comb jellies or just jellies. This is to differentiate them from their stinging relatives which are usually referred to as jellyfish. So we can be pretty sure— since he is not howling in pain— that what Spud has in his nose is one of the bioluminescent comb jellies.
I grew up on the Gulf Coast and have vivid memories of encounters with both varieties of these animals. Like Wallace, I had a multi-purpose net for catching bugs and butterflies and sea creatures and, once, a cottonmouth moccasin… but that is another story entirely.
One day at the beach I spotted a beautiful pulsing pink jellyfish with long trailing tentacles. I knew this was the stinging type and not to be touched, so I scooped it into my net to take a closer look. After I let free, I watched it swim away, pulsating. About an hour later, my net happened to brush against my right leg… and I discovered that the jellyfish had left some of its stinging cells in the net. Ouchies.
Calamine lotion helped, but my skin hurt for several hours.
As for comb jellies, when my brother and I would seine for bait fish at night, many of the jellies would become trapped in the warp and woof of the net. Back at home, we set the nets in the yard to dry, staking the two handles in the ground with the long net fabric hanging between. In the gathered darkness, the (sadly) entangled jellies began to glow, to luminesce blue, like, yes, Christmas lights.
Nature writers have found it convenient to refer to the bioluminescent ones as comb jellies or just jellies. This is to differentiate them from their stinging relatives which are usually referred to as jellyfish. So we can be pretty sure— since he is not howling in pain— that what Spud has in his nose is one of the bioluminescent comb jellies.
I grew up on the Gulf Coast and have vivid memories of encounters with both varieties of these animals. Like Wallace, I had a multi-purpose net for catching bugs and butterflies and sea creatures and, once, a cottonmouth moccasin… but that is another story entirely.
One day at the beach I spotted a beautiful pulsing pink jellyfish with long trailing tentacles. I knew this was the stinging type and not to be touched, so I scooped it into my net to take a closer look. After I let free, I watched it swim away, pulsating. About an hour later, my net happened to brush against my right leg… and I discovered that the jellyfish had left some of its stinging cells in the net. Ouchies.
Calamine lotion helped, but my skin hurt for several hours.
As for comb jellies, when my brother and I would seine for bait fish at night, many of the jellies would become trapped in the warp and woof of the net. Back at home, we set the nets in the yard to dry, staking the two handles in the ground with the long net fabric hanging between. In the gathered darkness, the (sadly) entangled jellies began to glow, to luminesce blue, like, yes, Christmas lights.
Beautiful!