It never fails--I take some time off, and a giant squid shows up!

A few years ago, it was a half-eaten carcass found floating in Monterey Bay. Every teuthologist dreams of a giant squid sighting in her backyard, but Fate's wicked sense of humor had me taking a summer course in Friday Harbor when my dream came true. So while I was playing with worms, my labmates back home were eagerly dissecting the largest giant squid ever seen in Monterey Bay.

Not that I'm bitter or anything.

One of the nice things about studying a big charismatic animal, like the Humboldt squid, is that you don't have to convince anyone that your science is cool. People are already interested in your science as soon as you tell them what you study. Journalists want to interview you; filmmakers want to video your animal.

Unfortunately, that last item can turn into one of the not-so-nice things. Filmmakers tend to be on a pretty tight schedule, so sometimes you'll get a call like, "We're going out on a boat on October 12th--can you find squid for us?"

Whenever friends or family learn that there exists in the depths of the sea a particular species known as the Dana Octopus Squid, they draw the obvious conclusion that I must have been named after this squid, or (even more flattering) the squid was named after me. Alas, neither is the case. Wikipedia reveals all:

Taningia danae is named after Danish fisheries biologist Aage Vedel Taaning (1890–1958), who often traveled on the research vessel Dana.

Of course, the truly perceptive will note that since my name has two n's, there can be no possible connection between the squid and me.