back to shell index  

Cowries

The shell of the adult cowry really doesn't look much like a seashell at all. It's much too glossy, and it's shaped less like a snail than like an egg with a narrow slit along one side. Seashells usually are shaped like caps, as the limpets are, or they are coiled. The cowry shell appears to be neither.


Cowries are coiled

Actually, if you look carefully at the rear end of a cowry shell (if you can figure out which end is the rear end), you may see the remnants of a spire or crown along with subtle evidence of coiling. If you can bring yourself to break the shell apart, you will see even more convincing evidence of coiling within. The cowry shell indeed is coiled. In fact a juvenile cowry, as long as it continues to grow, looks like a conventional snail, possessing an obviously coiled shell with a gaping aperture. The coiling is mostly to the side of the animal, as it is with the cone shell; so the aperture extends along almost the entire length of the shell. As the young cowry grows, it extends its shell by increasing the length of the last coil (the body whorl), analogous to adding a short length to the outer end of a rope or hose lying coiled on the ground. As it completes its maturation, the cowry folds the outer lip of the aperture inward, shrinking the aperture to a small slit. As it does this, the animal also thickens and decorates the shell of the body whorl, which in the end hardly resembles a whorl at all. At this time, lengthening of the body whorl apparently stops, and further growth is limited to a modest amount of additional thickening and decoration of the outer shell. The size of the shell of the mature cowry does not seem to change appreciably, and small mature cowries of a particular species are not destined to grow up some day to become large ones. There are several other types of sea snails that, on reaching the final stages of maturation, stop lengthening their body whorls and begin thickening and decorating their shells, occasionally with spectacular results. These snails include the horse conchs, the strombs (true conchs), the spindles, and the doves.


Having a polished shell

So the shell of the cowry actually is coiled; but why is it so highly polished? Actually the inner surfaces of all sea-snail shells are highly polished. The difference with the cowry shell is that the outer surface is just as polished. The reason for this is simple; the outer surface of the cowry shell is formed in the same way as the inner surfaces of other snail shells. So now we have pushed the question to the inside... why is the inner surface of a sea-snail shell so glossy? The immediate answer is that the inner surface of the shell is composed of very flat crystals laid out either like tiles or like slightly-overlapping shingles. The surfaces formed by these crystals are extremely smooth. The answer to the question will not be complete until we understand how the snail produces such flat crystals and lays them down in such beautiful order, When the same crystal species (calcite and aragonite) grow in geological formations, they tend to be cubic rather than tile- or shingle-shaped. The same crystal species, with still different shapes, are found arrayed in very orderly fashions over the sensitive surfaces of the gravity-sensing organs (the saccule and utricle) of the inner ear. In our inner ears, and those of other mammals, the crystals are calcite; in the ears of frogs and other amphibians they are aragonite. Mineral crystals of various species are widespread in the animal world, being key ingredients in skeleton, tooth and shell. Therefore, the control of crystal formation and the shaping of mineralized structures by animal tissues is an important general issue in biology, and one that is far from being settled.

Part of the answer undoubtedly is the organic structure that always seems to be laid down first and seems to provide a foundation upon or around which crystals subsequently form. In the seashell, these organic structures apparently are made largely of the same kinds of tough proteins (keratins) that are major components of skin, nails and hair. A typical pattern of seashell construction seems to be first the laying down of a thick outer skin (the periostracum), then the formation of a thick layer (the prismatic layer) of column-shaped crystals just under the periostracum, followed by the laying down of a very thin skin, then the formation of a very thin layer of tile- or shingle-like crystals, then the laying down of another very thin skin, another very thin layer of tiles or shingles, and so on. When the tiles or shingles are aragonite crystals, the surface is called the nacre; when they are calcite, it is called the calcitostracum. The materials for all of these various layers are secreted by specialized tissue (the mantle) lying just inside the shell. The actual formation of each layer must be controlled remotely by the mantle, however, since the layer always is beyond the cell boundaries of the mantle proper.


Shell growth and repair

Control of the formation of each layer very likely involves well-timed changes in the chemicals secreted by the mantle. Because the formation takes place beyond the cell boundaries of the mantle, it is especially intriguing. In sea snails, the region of the mantle in the immediate vicinity of the aperture (or the lip of the shell) apparently specializes in laying the foundation (periostracum and prismatic layer) for new shell. The remainder of the mantle apparently specializes in the much slower process of thickening the new shell from the inside by depositing layer after layer of glossy nacre or calcitostracum. This organization is appropriate for normal growth of the shell (by elongation of the body whorl) or for repair of damaged lips, but it is not appropriate for repairing damage elsewhere in the shell. Therefore, as one might expect, sea snails are good at repairing chipped lips, but they are not good at repairing holes elsewhere in their shells. As the unexposed mantle thickens the shell of the body whorl, it simultaneously thins the unexposed shell of the previous whorls, often leaving coils of delicate, glass-like shell as an inner skeleton.

For the cowry, the pattern of shell formation is modified slightly. Both juvenile and adult animals have mantles that cover not only the inner surface of the shell, but can be extended over the entire outside of the shell as well; and it deposits glossy layers on both sides. The shell of the mature cowry is thickened and decorated from the outside, by deposition of many alternating layers of very flat crystals and very thin skin.


Eating and being eaten

When their mantles are out, covering the outsides of their shells, some cowry species can be spectacularly beautiful, as ornate and colorful as some of the most brilliant sea slugs; other species may be as drab as some of the most cryptically colored sea slugs. Some cowry species can be kept easily in aquarium tanks. In fact some, such as the Honey Cowry (Cypraea helvola) and the Snakehead Cowry (Cypraea caputserpentis) will do well grazing on the small amount of algae that inevitably grow on the walls of the tank. An adult Snakehead Cowry survived on this fare for more than nine years in one of my tanks, maintaining its shell in excellent condition (failure of the edges of the mantle to join at the top of the shell, and subsequent erosion of the glossy surface are signs of stress in a cowry). Many cowries are carnivorous, browsing on coelenterates or other animals, and they probably are food specialists like the Hawaiian cones. Occasionally a carnivorous cowry can be adapted to eating liver or some other easily obtained food. If not, then identifying and providing the appropriate food specialty may be difficult. Cowries often will attack one another if kept in the same tank, apparently reflecting territoriality. Cowries also are eaten by other sea snails (the Penniform Cone clearly is predisposed to prey upon them, for example), so one must be careful in choosing their tankmates. Like some opisthobranchs, cowries may secrete acid when attacked. Their best defense against fish and other visual predators, however, probably is the fact that they generally are abroad at night and hidden during the day.


Cowries learn

The fact that some cowries can be adapted to a new diet is not something that should be treated lightly. Although they admittedly are very beautiful, cowries more-or-less continually grazing on algae or occasionally munching on liver in an aquarium tank may seem to lack behavior comparable in complexity to the fascinating hunting activities of cones and some opisthobranchs. They might be considered the aquarium's cattle-- behaviorally dull and predictable, whereas the cones are the cats-- alert, active, interestingly unpredictable. Perhaps this image of the animal would change if it were known that the cowry can be trained; it can learn. For nearly five years a juvenile measled cowry (Cypraea zebra) from the Florida Keys lived in one of my aquarium tanks with an Hawaiian olive (Oliva paxillus sandwicensis), three cat cones, and a small basket (Nassarius gaudiosus), all from Maui. From the time they were captured, the olive and basket sought out and ate pieces of liver with no hesitation, apparently being predisposed to foraging for underwater carrion; so once each week I placed a few pieces for them on the sand in the bottom of the tank. When it was placed in the tank with the other animals, the cowry at first ignored the liver, choosing instead to graze the algae-covered sides of the tank.

Knowing that the algae would not be enough food for such a large cowry, and having read that this species could be coaxed into eating liver, I decided to try coaxing. Each time I found the cowry grazing near the surface of the water, I held a small piece of liver directly under its mouth, in a pair of tweezers. At first the animal turned away, presumably disturbed by being touched. After three or four sessions, it began to scrape the liver with its file-like teeth. Soon after that, I could let go of the piece of liver and the cowry would hold it with its mouth and continue scraping. It still would not take the liver left on the sand, and if it dropped the piece it was holding it would not attempt to retrieve it. After a few more feedings, however, it would retrieve the dropped liver; and very soon it began to go directly for the liver placed on the sand for the olive and basket. Even if it were high on the wall of the tank, the cowry would turn downward and head for the sand as soon as a piece of liver was dropped into the tank. Clearly, the cowry had learned a new search image (probably olfactory) associated with food.

It seems obvious that learning ability has great survival value for any animal living in a dynamic, constantly changing community, and that learning ability therefore is to be expected. Nevertheless, learning in mollusks remains contoversial. J.Z. Young convincingly demonstrated it in the octopus long ago, but convincing evidence for learning in sea slugs was found only recently, and learning in sea snails remains virtually unexplored.


Looking for cowries

The glossy shell of the cowry is especially susceptible to erosion by the sea, so good beached shells are rare. Living snakehead cowries are abundant and easy to find in Hawaiian tidepools and many other places. Members of the other cowry species are more difficult to find in their daytime hiding places. One good place to look is under large, flat boulders of reef rubble in shallow water. A snorkeler with a pair of gloves and modest breath-holding capacity can turn over such a boulder and inspect both the sand or hard surface beneath and the undersurface of the boulder itself for sea snails (and other animals). Occasionally a small moray will dart out from beneath the boulder when it is lifted; to avoid being startled, lift the edge farthest from you first. A diver that turns over a boulder and fails to replace it in its original position becomes a strong outside agent in local predation. Small fish rapidly converge on the site and devour many of the uncovered animals as they scurry for cover. Probably even greater impact results from predation on newly exposed egg masses. The fish often are so bold that they move in as soon as the boulder is overturned, ignoring the waving of hands, shaking of fists, and growling of the diver. This boldness can be used to advantage by the collector of aquarium fish.

Another place to look for cowries is in small pockets and crevices in a solution bench, reef or basalt formation. Here you also will find urchins and should remember to be especially careful of the wana (long-spined urchins). If you happen to brush against one, even very gently, it will leave a few spines in your skin. When this happens, you will see a purple substance spreading outward from each broken spin, forming a small spot in your skin and stinging slightly as it does so. The most annoying feature, however, is the brittleness of the spines-- they seem impossible to remove. A small puka poker (such as a long screwdriver or kitchen tongs) can be used to remove cowries from crevices or from behind wana. Even with such devices, you inevitably will swim away frustrated at times, leaving a much-desired, beautiful cowry gleaming deep in a hole or crack. On steep, waveswept basalt formations, large cowries occasionally can be found in crevices very close to the water line. Even a small surf can make the search for these animals very difficult; larger surf can make it downright dangerous.


Endemism

Although it is not abundant anywhere, there is one cowry species that we have found in nearly every type of underwater habitat we could reach-- beneath small, isolated boulders on a sandy bottom at 45 feet, inside dead coral heads on patch reefs, inside pockets in solution benches, and inside cracks in basalt formations at the waterline in heavy surf areas. That species is the groove-toothed cowry (Cypraea sulcidentata). This is one of seven cowry species presently believed to be found only in the waters of the Hawaiian Islands, and never to have occurred elsewhere. By virtue of these two constraints, it qualifies as an endemic species. Applied to a species, endemic means that throughout its existance that species has been restricted to a particular locale, such as a particular range of mountains, a particular valley, or a particular group of islands. To the evolutionary biologist, endemism implies that the species arose locally, in response to conditions prevelant in the locale sometime in the past and perhaps persisting to the present. How does an endemic species arise?

More than one hundred years after Darwin revolutionized the science of biology by addressing this very question, its answer remains incomplete and definitely controversial. Do new species arise explosively in response to sudden events such as widescale opening of niches (e.g., by cataclysmic destruction of the beings that previously occupied those niches), or do they arise slowly, by gradual shifts in the gene pool perhaps brought on by changes in environmental pressures and leading to gradual shift to a new niche? In either case, most biologists would agree that critical ingedients in the formation of a new species seem to be isolation from established populations of different species that already are well adapted to the target niche and isolation from members of the potentially evolving species that are not facing the same selective pressures. Just how such isolation has occurred often is unclear. Probably the most obvious isolating mechanisms are geological or geophysical, such as stretches of desert between mountain ranges or stretches of ocean with unfavorable currents between island groups. In this respect, the Hawaiian Islands presently seem to be well isolated.


Where did they come from?
How did they get there?

Most of the inshore species that inhabit the sea around the Hawaiian Islands also are found elswhere in the tropical waters of the western Pacific Ocean and the Indian Ocean. Because its marine life is more-or-less uniform and distinct from that in other regions, this vast tropical oceanic area has been designated the Indo-West-Pacific province. The Hawaiian Islands occupy the extreme northeastern edge of the province; and their links to the rest of the province are tenuous. The islands are swept by surface currents coming from the east, driven by the tradewinds and parts of two major oceanic circulations. One of those circulations is the great North Pacific Gyre, which flows clockwise around the edges of the North Pacific and thence westward across the mid-Pacific, north of the equator. This flow leaves the Indo-West-Pacific in the vicinity of southern Japan, and before reentering the province at the Hawaiian Islands, it passes the Aleutians and the west coasts of North America and Mexico.

The other circulation lies principally to the south of the Hawaiian Islands and is counterclockwise, so that its northern arm, the North Equatorial Current, joins the southern arm of the North Pacific Gyre to form a very broad, westward-flowing stream. The eastward segment of this counterclockwise circulation is part of a much less extensive stream, the Equatorial Counter Current, which crosses the Pacific south of Hawaii, where the tradewinds have yielded to the equatorial doldrums. Before reentering the Indo-West-Pacific province from the east, both of these circulations flow past another tropical marine province, the Panamic. With a few exceptions, such as the Moorish Idol, the inshore marine species of the core of the Panamic province are distinct from those of the Indo-West-Pacific, evidence that neither of the two circulations is an effective transporter of marine organisms in either direction across the Pacific Ocean. If this is true, then how are Hawaiian inshore waters linked to those of the rest of its province?

A possibility might be shortcircuiting one of the two circulations. The likely candidate would be the southern, counterclockwise flow. Its water is warm and should be hospitable to drifting larvae of tropical marine animals, and the distance separating the westward segment from the eastward segment is not nearly as great as that of the North Pacific Gyre. The trick would be to ride the Equatorial Counter Current to a position east of the Hawaiian chain, then cross over to the westward North Equatorial Current, and drift back into the Hawaiian water. With perhaps enormous numbers of planktonic larvae begining this journey from the islands to the west, one might expect pure chance to provide the Hawaiian chain with a continuous shower of young immigrants.

One problem with this scheme is the pool of nearly stagnant water that inevitably lies at the center of any eddy and somehow must be crossed by the drifting or swimming larvae. Although an occasional large storm might penetrate that barrier, there is another, perhaps even more potent barrier, and that is time. Because the Hawaiian chain is so far from its nearest island neighbors to the west, the distance that any immigrant must travel on its circuitous path to the Hawaiian Islands is enormous. Many Hawaiian inshore animals have planktonic phases of very short duration, making the probability of surviving the journey in that form overwhelmingly small. Truly pelagic species, those professional oceanic peregriners that sucessfully spend their lifetimes at sea, can and do visit the waters around the Hawaiian Islands, and perhaps occasionally support a nonpelagic hitch-hiker. Floating debris could accomplish the same thing. However, for many inshore species, the Hawaiian Islands may be totally cut off from the rest of their province.

Even if that is true, it cannot always have been so. Inshore Indo-West-Pacific animals are present in the Hawaiian Islands. In previous geological times, seamounts protruded from the surface between the Hawaiian Islands and the Marshall Islands, and Professor Kay suggests that these may have provided stepping-stones along the immigration route from the west. The journey still would have been so difficult for some species that arriving alive in Hawaiian waters would be extremely improbable, and immigrants of those species would have been exceedingly rare. However, as island biogeographers are quick to point out, under appropriate conditions a single pregnant female could be enough. Furthermore, improbable as it may seem, very-long migrations apparently even without stepping-stones have been accomplished by some mollusk species in the flow of the Equatorial Counter Current. Clipperton Island, at the extreme western edge of the Panamic province, apparently has been colonized by several Indo-West-Pacific sea snails. Among them are the Hebrew Cone, the Chaldean Cone, and six of the thirty-three cowries listed by Kay in Hawaiian Marine Shells: C. helvola, C. maculifera, C. moneta, C. rashleighana, C. teres, and C. vitellus. The presence of these animals at Clipperton and their apparent absence elsewhere in the Panamic province is a puzzle whose solution may lie in the structure of the Countercurrent, in the dynamic competition of colonization, or elsewhere.


Genetic variations

Just as the human species has many physical and behavioral varieties, so do other species; and when a particular variety is determined genetically, it very likely will be the consequence (expression) of several genes rather than one. The combinations found in a generation of offspring clearly will be shaped by the pool of genes available among the parents. With a given gene pool, certain gene combinations will be likely to occur, others will be relatively rare, and still others will be so unlikely to occur that the corresponding physical or behavioral variety is never seen among the limited number of offspring. In a given locale, conditions may favor certain physical or behavioral traits. For example, there might be more secure daytime hiding places for small cowries than for large ones, so that a larger proportion of smaller members of a species would survive to contribute their genes to the next generation; or there might be more-nutritious food available in deeper water, so that those members of a species that instinctively favored deeper water might be better nourished, consequently able to produce more and healthier offspring, thus contributing more genes to the next generation.

Therefore, in a given locale,one would expect the gene pool to change slightly from generation to generation. In other locales, conditions might favor different traits. Migration and interbreeding among members of a species from diffrent locales would reshuffle the gene pools in all locales and slow the shaping of the local gene pool by local conditions. Isolation would allow local shaping to move rapidly. As the gene pool shifted in response to local conditions, some combinations of genes that previously had been impossibly rare would become relatively probable, and heretofore unseen traits would emerge to be tested against the environment. As this process continued, generation after generation, the members of the isolated population could become so drastically changed, physically and behaviorally, that the casual observer might guess that they were not closely related to other members of the species from which they arose.


Island biogeography

The conditions shaping the local gene pool of an animal or plant species in a young group of islands would be determined by two major factors, one being the physical setting itself and the other being the chance colonization of the islands by the various immigrants to them. Because of the tenuous route from the other Indo-West-Pacific islands, even with stepping-stones available, some inshore animals and plants abundant elsewhere in the province never would establish colonies in Hawaiian waters. Thus, any newly arriving immigrant would find not only a new physical setting but also a mixture of established inshore plant and animal life thoroughly unlike that found elsewhere in the province. Because of these differences, survival would be easier for some species, more difficult for others in the new environment; and the competitions between species for food, territories, and the like would have new outcomes. While some species thrived, others, perhaps abundant elsewhere in the province, would establish colonies in the new place only eventually to become extinct there. In fact, extinctions seem to be commonplace in island communities of animals and plants, and they definitely appear to have been so in the Hawaiian Islands. As one might imagine, extinctions could produce geographical distributions of a species that would be exceedingly puzzling (e.g., extinctions in the center of a province could lead to widely-dispersed pockets of a species at the periphery).

Species that successfully colonize a locale will occupy a particular niche in the local community. Niche in this ecological sense is a multidimensional entity that one might conceive as being bounded by the tolerance limits of the members of a species. Since members with different genetic composition (different genotypes) may have different tolerance limits, the boundaries of a niche must be considered to be fuzzy. It is this fuzziness that would allow the sort of gradualistic evolution that I described in the previous paragraphs. The upper and lower temperature tolerance limits, the upper and lower pH tolerance limits, the upper and lower oxygen-tension tolerance limits, the upper and lower salinity tolerance limits, and so forth, all would define boundaries of the niche (but note that probably none of those tolerance limits is likely to be independent of the other environmental variables; e.g., the upper pH tolerance limit very likely will depend on the temperature).

Other dimensions of the niche may include background color or pattern (e.g., the range of colors or patterns over which the the animal is adequately camouflaged either to avoid intense predation or to be an effective predator), substrate types (e.g., the range of substrates into which the animal can effectively burrow), foods (e.g., the range of organisms that the animal can exploit for adequate nutrition), and so forth. The niche also must incorporate the tolerance limits (of various sorts) for the animal's egg-, larval-, and juvenile-forms. Clearly, even without genetic variability, the notion of the niche is sufficiently fuzzy. There is an old ecological principle of questionable value that states "no two species can occupy the same niche in the same locale at the same time." Given the fuzzy and multidimensional quality of the definition of niche, most modern ecologists probably would restate the principle as follows: "the intensity of the competition between two species (in the same locale at the same time) will increase as the degree of overlap of their niches increases."

There are many possible outcomes of such competion, among them being-- extinction of an unsuccessful competitor, coexistence and sharing of resources by competing species without shifts in their genetic pools, coexistence and sharing of resources by competing species after reduction in niche overlap through shifts in the genetic pools. The last alternative corresponds to the gradualistic evolution described previously. It has been proposed as the mechanism that led, among other things, to the adaptive radiation among the Galapagos finches. The purpose of this paragraph, however, was to lead up to another principal, one described in MacArthur and Wilson's Island Biogeography, namely that a new immigrant species very likely will be unsuccessful in its attempts to colonize an island locale where its niche will overlap greatly with that of an already-established colonizer. This might be the reason so many Indo-West-Pacific Cowries were able to obtain footholds on Clipperton, but were unsuccessful elsewhere in the Panamic province; Clipperton may have been the only place with relatively open niches.

Following the logic of MacArthur and Wilson, imagine that the immigrants of a given species of cowry into this setting are very rare, but that two of the early immigrants managed to establish a successful colony, whose population eventually became large. From that time on, any tiny influx of new immigrants very likely would have no effect on the local gene pool, and effective isolation would have been achieved even if the stepping-stone islands were still present. Their absence makes isolation even more certain. The setting now would be ripe for rapid shifts in the gene pool of the colony and the arising of an endemic species.

Oceanic islands typically are rich in endemic species, particularly among terrestrial animals. Occasionally, a cluster of such islands will have an entire group of endemic species that are closely related to one another, but are so different from the members of any other group that they are given the status of a seperate taxonomic grouping, such as a genus or family. For example, the Seychelle Islands have an endemic group of frogs that has been designated as a distinct family (the sooglossids); and the Hawaiian Islands have an endemic group of birds given the same status (the drepanids, or Hawaiian honeycreepers). The arising of entire endemic groups such as these is believed to result from a process called adaptive radiation, whereby early colonizers of a single species give rise to a whole array of new species. The major puzzle in this process is how the arising species manage to stay sufficiently isolated from one another to avoid genetic shuffling. Each instance of effective isolation may very well involve a different set of solutions to the puzzle. With birds and frogs, important ingredients undoubtedly are the advertisement songs or calls that help establish breeding territories and attract mates. In some instances, slight variations in song or call patterns are sufficient to produce breeding segregation among individuals of a single bird- or frog-species.

Among the eight cowry species listed by Kay as being Hawaiian endemics, two are relatively common and easy for the snorkeler to find-- the Granulated Cowry and the Groove-toothed Cowry; three are uncommon or more difficult to find, but live within easy reach of the snorkeler-- Gaskoin's Cowry, the Halfswimmer Cowry, and the Maui Cowry; one is most common at depths that stretch a snorkeler's breatholding capacity-- the Checkered Cowry; and two are rare, deep-water animals-- Rashleigh's Cowry and Ostergaard's Cowry.

Essay written in 1985
Last updated 06/25/07