Each morning before I go work in a landlocked cubicle, I get up, open my laptop, and start reading ocean stuff. One article about marine plastic leads me to a blog about depressing dietary habits of the Albatross which leads me to a critique of ocean plastic removal technology which somehow leads me to an article about how I too can harvest Tilapia from my own back yard. Pretty soon, I have over a hundred tabs open and it’s not even 8 am yet. I am hopelessly lost down the digi-rabbit hole and probably need to start thinking about flossing or some other grooming ritual that will rudely yank me out of my virtual maritime voyage.
This morning from the depths of that gloriously deep armchair abyss emerged a site called www.thescuttlefish.com. How delightful. First of all it’s called The Scuttlefish. And secondly, the scuttlefish recently posted these fantastic illustrations of sharks dated back to the 18th and 19th centuries. (Note credit made to Owen James Burke).
Scuttlefish is a partner site of the Atlantic (appropriately), and check this out for a seaworthy blog description:
Scuttlefish is “designed to evoke the kind of vibe you’d feel after a nice long day at the beach. Or a difficult night at sea. It’s not about animals, or sports or eco, or science, or travel or food or culture, but all of those things and perhaps a bit of lore. Because besides our own human drama, there’s no deeper well of stories, and no more mysterious and rich a frontier than the ocean.”
Plus Scuttlefish features a journal by former fellow desk jockey, Daniel Down who finally decided to “swap life in an office for life under the sea.” Read the entry; it’s harrowing stuff. Proud o’ you, Mr. Down, whoever you are! In some parallel universe, I know that I get to be you . . .
I really love saying “Scuttlefish.” It’s almost as gratifying as watching Cuttlefish True Stories. Wait, wasn’t I going to floss or something?