Survivors from an ancient time

Survivors from an ancient time

Stromatolite formation in the Exumas, Bahamas • Photo by Vincent Poirier (CC BY-SA 3.0)

Originally published 23 March 1998

EXUMA, Bahamas — Cryp­to­zo­ol­o­gy is the study of unex­plained and alleged sight­ings of strange crea­tures not doc­u­ment­ed by stan­dard zoology.

The Loch Ness mon­ster, a pur­port­ed marine dinosaur trapped in the Scot­tish lake by ancient geo­log­ic upheavals or sea-lev­el changes, is a favorite sub­ject of cryp­to­zo­ol­o­gists. The Chu­pacabra, Puer­to Rico’s famous “goat­suck­er,” excites con­tin­u­ing curios­i­ty. And of course the Abom­inable Snow­man, Big­foot, and Yeti range wide regions of the world, tan­ta­liz­ing cryp­to­zo­ol­o­gists with foot­prints and elu­sive sightings.

The Inter­net hums with cryp­to­zo­o­log­i­cal spec­u­la­tion, and books on the sub­ject seem to have a broad audi­ence. Nev­er­the­less, as a sci­ence, cryp­to­zo­ol­o­gy ranks right up there with para­psy­chol­o­gy and astrol­o­gy; that is to say, it is not a sci­ence at all.

Which is not to say that hid­den cor­ners of the Earth do not hold zoo­log­i­cal sur­pris­es. Remem­ber the coela­canth, a fish long thought to be extinct, dis­cov­ered liv­ing in deep waters of the Indi­an Ocean in 1938. Remote forests and deep waters might still hide siz­able ani­mals, yet undis­cov­ered. The prop­er sci­en­tif­ic atti­tude, how­ev­er, is “Let’s wait and see.”

I felt a bit like a field cryp­to­zo­ol­o­gist recent­ly as I snorkeled in the shal­low waters of a tidal chan­nel near Lee Stock­ing Island in the Exu­ma Cays.

Below were dozens of mas­sive ovoid humps, many three feet or more high, like giant dinosaur eggs part­ly buried in the seafloor sand. These strange objects were clear­ly of bio­log­i­cal ori­gin, but unlike any­thing I had seen before. In water made milky by tide-stirred sand, they beck­oned as if from some pre­his­toric dream.

These are the famous Bahami­an giant stro­ma­to­lites, and their sto­ry is as curi­ous as any wide-eyed tale of the Loch Ness monster.

My com­pan­ions and I were guid­ed to this unique site by Joe Aca­ba, man­ag­er of the Caribbean Marine Research Cen­ter on Lee Stock­ing Island.

Stro­ma­to­lites are stony struc­tures built up by liv­ing organ­isms, in this case by algae and cyanobac­te­ria (pho­to­syn­the­siz­ing bac­te­ria). The microbes live in gooey mats on the top sur­face of the struc­tures. The mats trap fine sed­i­ments car­ried across them by tidal cur­rents. As the mats are made opaque by sed­i­ments, the microbes move upwards seek­ing sun­light. Lay­er after lay­er of sed­i­ments are cement­ed into grow­ing columns or domes.

Large stro­ma­to­lites were com­mon in the seas of the ear­ly Earth, but they are rare today. They are found only at a few sites in the Bahamas and at Shark Bay in west­ern Australia.

For more than 3 bil­lion years after the for­ma­tion of the Earth, all life on the plan­et was micro­scop­ic, ances­tral to the algae and cyanobac­te­ria of the Bahami­an stro­ma­to­lites. These soft-bod­ied microor­gan­isms left a scant fos­sil record — except for the grit­ty, endur­ing stromatolites.

Fos­sil stro­ma­to­lites have been found in sed­i­men­ta­ry rocks of all con­ti­nents, rang­ing back 3.5 bil­lion years. They have been an impor­tant focus of pale­oe­col­o­gists study­ing the ear­ly evo­lu­tion of life. Oth­er sci­en­tists use fos­sil stro­ma­to­lites to recon­struct ancient phys­i­cal environments.

For these stud­ies, obser­va­tions of mod­ern “liv­ing” stro­ma­to­lites are of cru­cial impor­tance for a prop­er inter­pre­ta­tion of the ancient fossils.

If stro­ma­to­lites were once so com­mon, why are they rare today? The answer seems to be that stro­ma­to­lite-build­ing colonies of microbes had no effi­cient preda­tors when all life on Earth was micro­bial. Today, many larg­er, mul­ti-celled ani­mals — fish, gas­tropods, worms — graze on the microbes.

Only in high-stress envi­ron­ments, such as the super-salty waters of Shark Bay and the tide-scoured chan­nel near Lee Stock­ing Island, can micro­bial colonies sur­vive long enough to build sig­nif­i­cant struc­tures. Migrat­ing sand dunes on the floor of the Lee Stock­ing chan­nel also seem to play a role in con­trol­ling the growth of the stro­ma­to­lites and pro­tect­ing the colonies from grazers.

In fact, it was dif­fi­cult for us snorkel­ers to “graze” our eyes on the stro­ma­to­lites. Quick­ly, the tidal cur­rent car­ried us away from what we want­ed to see. Aca­ba picked us up with the boat and took us back “upstream” for anoth­er drift across the stro­ma­to­lite assemblies.

Not all geol­o­gists accept that fos­sil stro­ma­to­lites are of organ­ic ori­gin; dis­senters point to oth­er non-liv­ing geo­log­i­cal process­es that could lead to lay­ered struc­tures in sed­i­men­ta­ry rock. This may be true, but see­ing the Bahami­an stro­ma­to­lites swept by sand on the shal­low floor of the Lee Stock­ing chan­nel makes it clear that what microbes are doing today they could like­ly have done bil­lions of years ago, in con­di­tions and envi­ron­ments that were ide­al for fossilization.

These strange, dark humps on the floor of a Bahami­an tidal chan­nel are a kind of Loch Ness mon­ster, cryp­to­sur­vivors from an ancient age, hid­den from view until their dis­cov­ery in the ear­ly 1980s, and now offer­ing sci­en­tists a glimpse into an ancient world that has been most­ly erased from the face of the planet.

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