# Sea and River-side Rambles in Victoria/Chapter 2

CHAPTER II.
"To one who has been long in City pent, Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven,—to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament."—Keats.
There are certain times and seasons when the mind, so dependent on a healthy state of the body for a vigorous development, worn out by constant toil and anxiety, becomes thoroughly unstrung, and unless a change of scene and companions can be at once obtained, it soon becomes impaired, and sooner or later the consequences are seen in one of the many tedious nervous diseases unfortunately so prevalent in this country. A change into the interior is scarcely likely to prove as beneficial to the man of sedentary habits as a run by the sea, where the "stormy winds do blow," and where the long lost appetite quickly returns, and the mental faculties resume their wonted spirit and energy.
We write from experience, for rendered irritable by long confinement, and as a climax, the intense heat of the anniversary of the well-remembered Black-Thursday, when the inhabitants of our tank, one after another, were found lying, not "scentless" certainly, but "dead," and the numerous fresh-water Algæ, so carefully preserved, each in its separate bottle on our mantel piece, waiting until we had leisure to investigate them, had withered, we hastily packed up a few choice books, a good supply of glass sample bottles, ​the use of which will be apparent by and by, a few quires of blotting paper and muslin strapped between well-seasoned boards, and our microscope, determined to explore some of those glorious dark crannies and sheltered nooks which for months past had formed the subject of our dreams, day and night, and which add so considerably to the charm of Sea-side rambling. But where to go then became a matter of grave consideration,—Hobson's Bay, Geelong, Queenscliff, all had something to recommend them, but we wanted companionship and quiet as well as fresh air, and so Warrnambool was decided on to be visited first, with a hope to call, as our leisure would allow, at all these places on our return. The trip to Lady Bay, a few years since one of so much discomfort, having to be made in diminutive crafts, not particularly well provisioned, is now really an enjoyable one, and where it formerly occupied from a week to an indefinite period at the caprice of the winds, is now performed in about eighteen hours in steamers, well officered and well furnished in every way. The weighty point "where to go," being thus decided, we were before many hours had passed over our heads safely ensconced on board the "Lady Bird," and in spite of the gloominess of the morning, the mere anticipation of what we knew to be in store for us soon dispelled all the feeling of "hippishness" which had beset us for many weeks previously. Although steaming along the coast for a considerable portion of the passage, there is nothing of interest to observe after passing the Heads, except the few chance vessels which may be sighted, and the Cape Otway ​Light, always anxiously looked for. So far then on our way, after watching awhile the phosphorescence of the waves as our vessel dashed through them, we turned in, and were awakened at an early hour in the morning by the announcement that Warrnambool was in sight; our toilet quickly made, we went on deck just as we steamed past Curdie's inlet, where, it will be remembered, the "Schomberg" was wrecked, and in a short time the pretty little town which was to be our temporary abiding place, loomed out from its shelter of thick timber. We now pass the mouth of the river Hopkins (about a mile from the port,) which is barred by a reef of rocks whereon the surf dashes heavily, it is a pretty object, the rugged crags dotted here and there, on which rest lazily enough a group of Cormorants, and the little blue Heron, reminding us of the singular tail pieces which illustrate some of Bewick's works. The white sand hummocks thrown up on shore are objects of interest to the stranger; but the anchor drops as we steam into the snug little Bay, so well protected by the dense bed of Kelp, and the Gulls and Terns fly screaming overhead, indignant apparently at our intruding into their usually quiet haunts, but we shall make acquaintance with them anon we dare say. After being landed by the worthy Harbour Master, we prefer, having suffered severely from the feeling of mal-de-mêr, worse infinitely than the reality, to walk to the town, to the residence of an old friend, where the inner man, a dreadful sufferer on these occasions, being recruited, we saunter out through the town. We had resided here for many years, but in a comparatively brief ​absence observed marked improvements, thanks to the Local Powers, (the Road Board, and the Municipality,) good roads, Government buildings, a Light-house, Obelisks to serve as land-marks, and a tramway to the Jetty, all proving the importance, from the large agricultural population surrounding it, of this little town. There are now too several respectable hostelries, where but a few years since there was only one, and the visitor will find comfort in any of them.
We have an intense horror of being idle, so adopting the advice of Goethe not to—
"Defer Until to-morrow, what may to-day be done,"
We call upon, and capture a Correspondent on Natural History topics, whose zeal in scientific pursuits we had long been aware of. Greetings interchanged, for Naturalists require no formal introduction, we started with the intention of exploring the rock-pools westward of the town. Arrived at our hunting ground after crossing the Merri River, noticing as we climbed the hill a species of the rush-like Xerotes in flower, we found the sea far too rough, and the sky too unpropitious to allow of our peering into the haunts of such creatures as we are in search of; yet nothing daunted we recross in our frail punt, bottling by the way a pretty species of a Diatom, (a Gomphonema), which fringed its sides, and away by the beach towards the Hopkins, to see what might turn up, since we verily believe with Wilmot, whose delightful "Summer Time in the Country," we would wish was more generally known, that "open eyes are always learning,—a garden, a wood, even a pool of ​water encloses a whole library of knowledge, waiting only to be read." How much more will the wide expanse of Ocean afford us, so densely filled with vegetable and animal life, that the mind grows fairly "dizzy wi the thought."
Unpromising as were our first glances, we walked along, sniffing the delicious odour of the seaweed, chatting of and arranging our plans for future rambles, when our friend exclaimed exultingly, "Quo minime credos gurgite, piscis erit" and truly here, where and when we least expected, our attention was arrested by millions of minute gelatinous-looking objects; we take up one, banded with pink of the faintest hue, another, and another finds its way into bottle No. 2; these were evidently a species of Acalepha or Sea-blubber, but we were unable to identify them, intermingled with them, and somewhat alike in appearance, though differing in shape, were numerous specimens crested with purple, of the bladder of the Portuguese man-of-war, (Physalia) included by Cuvier amongst the Acalephes Hydrostatiques, from its large swimming bladder, which, being easily compressed, enables it to regulate its specific gravity at will—to rise or sink at pleasure; hanging too from its under part are cilia or arms, and various other organs, which probably serve the purpose of nutrition and reproduction. According to Owen, these appendages are of three kinds—urticating, digestive, and (probably) generative. The urticating tentacles being the longest, hollow, and provided with muscular fibres, of which the most conspicuous are longitudinal, and serve to retract ​them; they contain many corpuscles of a reniform shape, and are richly provided with thread-cells, whose filaments are of the spiral kind. The gastric appendages are shorter and wider, and are provided with stomata, which are applied to the prey, seized and benumbed by the tentacles. If the prey be small, it is sucked bodily into the gastric sac; if large the sac becomes distended with its juices and dissolved parts, the gastric secretion being a very rapid and powerful solvent. The mouth of each sac is wide, with a broad everted lip, armed with a series of "nettle cells." The whole gastric appendage is highly contractile, and in constant motion in the living animal. Great was our joy as we sat examining these gem-like creatures, quite forgetting the old adage, that "time and tide tarry for no man," until a huge wave compelled us to decamp hastily, and when well beyond its reach we observed on looking round, our collecting bottle into which our treasures had been placed, floating away high on the crest of one wave, now deep down in the trough of another, fairly out to sea,—a sad loss! for before it could be replaced, the tide would have carried away the very specimens we were so anxious to procure. After mourning awhile, and at length somewhat appeased by the consolations of our companion, we set to work anew. Anon, something very much like the object we had lost so prematurely appeared about fifty yards a-head, but bottles are unfortunately too common objects of our shores, so we sauntered slowly towards it, hoping at the best to find the wherewith to make an impromptu aquarium, when to our great joy, here, ​uninjured, well-stoppered, and with its inhabitants none the worse for their trip back to their native element, was our lost one; this inspired us with fresh vigour, and not finding much that we cared for on the beach, we set to examining the huge Kelp roots, and they were well worthy of it, as the keener eyes of our fellow-labourer soon detected. We had but a moment since been recalling poor Forbes' amusing account of his suicidal Starfish, (Luidia), (see his "British Starfishes," page 138), and we had an illustration of it with an Ophiurus, also a Starfish, but so named from the lizard-like appearance of its arms, which we had turned out from one of those same densely-matted kelp-roots;—off went first the extremity of one arm, as it lay in our hand,—then, with an impudent twist, the smallest bit in life of another, whilst horror-stricken we called hastily for a collecting-box to receive him, or rather all that was left of him,—little enough indeed,—since all that was secured entire was his disk, and on a glass-jar on our mantel-piece he wandered for many weeks amidst his rejected members, which still maintained their vitality, frequently protruding their suckers. Sir John Dalyell mentions having picked up a single ray of a Starfish, which in a few days reproduced four additional ones, all smaller than the original, but this after a time dropped off, leaving the animal more perfectly symmetrical, and the renovated creature entered vigorously on its new career.
But let us examine these suckers more closely, since they seem to act pretty much in the same manner as the leather toy we, as school-boys, amused ourselves ​with, and by them there can be little doubt that progression is effected. Their mechanism, we learn from Gosse, is very simple. At the bottom of a furrow in each ray are rows of minute pores, through which the suckers are protruded, the base of each sucker being expanded into a little globular vesicle, which lies above the pore in the interior of the ray; the walls of this vesicle are muscular, and therefore contractile, and it is filled with a fluid. When an animal wishes to protrude and extend any given sucker, it contracts the vesicle at its base by an effort of the will; the fluid is thus forced into the tubular stem which is therefore compelled to elongate, and on the removal of this contractile force, the fluid returns to the bladder, either by the elasticity of the tube, or probably by its muscular action, and the sucker is gradually withdrawn.
We are treading shells under our feet at every step, and as yet have said nothing of them, beautiful as they are, and must reserve it now for another chapter, since we cannot dismiss forms varied as they are graceful, with any hurried remarks.
* ↑ Comp. Anat. Inverteb., p. 176.
* ↑ "Aquarian Naturalist," p. 267.
* ↑ Gosse's "Life," p, 102.