Gary the Eel Swims into the Spotlight at CMTM
At the Children’s Museum & Theatre of Maine, the arrival of Gary, a young adult American Eel, offers an incredible opportunity to explore the rich stories that eels carry – stories of ecological resilience, cultural significance, and scientific discovery.
Three members of the CMTM team have taken the time to write about their experiences with these amazing and enigmatic creatures. From Colin Marshall’s childhood memory of a chance encounter with an eel, to Starr Kelly’s reflections on the deep cultural connection between Indigenous people and migratory fish, to Emily Peck’s detailed insights into the life cycle and conservation of American Eels, we invite you open your eyes to the world of eels, uncovering the lessons they teach about our shared environment and the intricate bonds between land, water, and life.
Colin Marshall, CMTM Live Exhibits Coordinator:
CMTM Live Exhibits Coordinator Colin Marshall introduces Gary to a young visitor.
When I was very young, maybe only five or six, my Dad took me fishing off a bridge over a tidal river in Hyannis, Massachusetts. Despite him planning the trip for weeks and the two of us standing on that bridge for what felt like an eternity to me at the time, we didn't get so much as a nibble the entire day. But, as the sun began to set a long, dark, shadow emerged from under the bridge and slowly snaked its way out to sea with the tide. I was completely entranced as I asked my dad what it was. "That was an eel", he said with a smile as he saw the wonder on my face and realized that the day had not been wasted after all. I asked next where it was going to which he shrugged and said "I don't know, maybe home?" I think he was probably trying to imply that we should get ready to go home ourselves, but without realizing it he was just about right. My dad and I were not alone in wondering where that eel, or any eel, was going as it left the river and entered the ocean.
For centuries, the biology of eels, specifically where and how they reproduce, has confounded countless scientists. In fact, it was only just in 2023 that we finally found exactly where American Eels breed. Because of this, eels have become sort of a living symbol of how much about our world we humans still have to learn and understand. In her book “Under the Sea Wind,” author Rachel Carson describes the journey on an eel named Anguilla (named after their scientific name) from the quiet freshwater pond where she grew up, down river, and back to the Ocean where she was born. Anguilla's story concludes with a quote that exemplifies just how closely associated eels are with the mysteries of our world:
“As long as the tide ebbed, eels were leaving the marshes and running out to sea. Thousands passed the lighthouse that night, on the first lap of a far sea journey. And as they passed through the surf and out to sea, so also they passed from human sight and almost from human knowledge.”
Last month, after over a year of planning and preparation, a young adult American Eel named Gary arrived at the museum. Gary has quite the resume, and in the past has spent time as a research subject in a lab, both an ambassador and a display animal at the Museum of Science in Boston, and most recently a pampered house pet. She's estimated to be around ten years old, and just a hair over three feet long. American Eels have lifespans comparable to us humans, and females can grow over four feet long in that time, meaning Gary has some growing to do and plenty of time to do it. That being said, she is the largest animal now living at the museum and will likely remain so (the black sea bass may eventually outweigh her, but won't come close to her length).
Because of her past circumstances, Gary cannot ever return to the wild. But she will have a safe and comfortable home here at the museum where she can act as an ambassador for her wild relatives and the watersheds they call home. That brief encounter my father and I had nearly two decades ago stands out in my memory as one of the inspiring moments that led to me wanting to spend as much of my life as possible learning about and working with animals. Perhaps, one or more of our visitors will experience the same when they meet Gary.
Starr Kelly, CMTM Director of Education and Exhibits:
Gary shows off her impressive length while interacting with her caregivers at CMTM.
When Colin first shared that we had the opportunity to be caretakers of this eel, I was excited by the prospect of having one. As an Algonquin person, I grew up knowing that eels and other fish who take fantastic journeys from their spawning sites back inland are sacred and teach us so much about how to be in relationship with the lands and waters that sustain us. Traditionally, for a lot of Native nations in the Northeast, our cultures and movements were in relation to the movements of animals and fish like eels, alewives, and sturgeon. Locally among Wabanaki nations, eels are also culturally significant. There is evidence of eel weirs that are thousands of years old. Wabanaki people have developed multiple types of fishing harpoons just for eel fishing depending on the eel habitat demonstrating an intimate Indigenous Ecological Knowledge. I don’t think I can understate how significant eel fishing has been in this territory for thousands of years and at present. Today, the eel fishing and the elver industry is a cornerstone of Wabanaki sovereignty and the food sovereignty effort. Despite colonial entanglements of dams, state regulations, and attempts to disrupt Wabanaki people from engaging with traditional fishing, this is a thriving part of Wabanaki economies and is seen as a lynchpin issue relating to political sovereignty for tribal nations.
There’s been an incredible resurgence in migratory fish in recent years. With the removal of dams and rivers being cleaned up after centuries of sites of toxic dumping by mills, our relatives have been able to reclaim these waters. Seeing eels, alewives, sturgeon, and salmon come back strong is a beautiful story of hope for our collective future.
Much like Colin, I have a lot of feelings about being entrusted with such an animal. My hope is that with Gary with us, more people can come to be curious and perhaps even love these fish. If we can influence how people view these animals there is a real pathway forward for us to work together for habitat restoration and protection.
Emily Peck, CMTM Live Exhibits Assistant:
Classified as Endangered by the IUCN, American Eels are awesome creatures. American Eels (Anguilla rostrata) are ray-finned fish that are found throughout the rivers and estuaries of North and South America. They live in burrows or available structures like logs or caves, and can be found in a variety of substrates from silt to rocky bottoms. As adults, American Eels feed primarily at night and eat pretty much anything they can swallow from insects and mollusks to fish and crustaceans. When temperatures drop in the winter, these eels go into torpor, a kind of hibernation until the spring.
Visitors can meet Gary in CMTM’s From the Mountains to the Sea exhibit on the 3rd floor.
Their life is one of epic journeys; American Eels are catadromous, meaning that they live most of their life in freshwater rivers and sometimes near-coastal waters, but return to the sea to spawn. The exact details of this journey, as Colin mentioned, have been a near-mythical mystery until just last year. Scientists based in the UK were able to satellite tag the closely related European eels and monitor them as they made their incredible migration from the inland waterways, thousands of miles out into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean to their spawning grounds; the Sargasso Sea.
The cycle begins as American Eel eggs, laid only days before, hatch. The larval eels (called Leptocephali [lept-oh-SEFF-ah-lee]) are carried by the currents of the Gulf Stream towards the Continental Shelf in all directions. This can take up to 7 months, but once they reach the Continental Shelf, they metamorphose into their juvenile form, known as “Glass Eels.” From here, they move upstream and develop more pigment at which point they are called “Elvers.” Most American Eels continue to migrate upstream as they grow into the next phase, the sexually immature adult “Yellow Eel.” This life stage can last until the eel is anywhere from 5 to 20 years old.
The final metamorphosis prepares the eel to return to the sea via a series of physical changes including fin enlargement for long distance swimming, eye adaptations to better suit the oceanic environment, and even changes in the way energy is stored in the body to better fuel the upcoming journey. These “Silver Eels,” as they are called, are compelled by reasons still unknown by science to leave their freshwater homes and travel downstream into the open ocean. Scientists still aren’t sure what factors, exactly, prompt the beginning of this great odyssey, but it is a terminal journey. Once they reach the Sargasso Sea, they spawn and then die.
The Sargasso Sea is defined not by land surrounding it, but rather by four currents which converge to create a clockwise-circulating system in the center of which is a large area of relatively calm water. The currents deposit many things in this area, but it is most widely known for the golden-brown floating macroalgae which shares its name. Sargassum grows in large patches known as rafts in the clear, calm waters and serve as critical habitat and refuge for many organisms, including some seen nowhere else on earth. It is also a haven for juvenile marine species, such as the Leptocephali, as they grow in the relative safety of the rafts.
The incredible migration of the American Eel has many dangers, including, as Starr wrote, dams and other anthropogenic structures blocking the migration routes. Traditional dams block migration entirely, but hydroelectric dam turbines kill a large percentage of adult eels trying to return to the sea. Luckily, evidence shows that removing dams, or engineering safe passageways through new dams has a swift impact on the American Eel. Populations rebound quickly when dams are removed, giving hope for the future of the species.