Kachemak Bay’s Top 10 Marine Worms
We’re counting down our Camp Coordinator’s Top 10 list of marine worms in Kachemak Bay’s intertidal zone!
Alexa Helm, Coastal Studies’ Camp Coordinator and resident Worm Aficionado holding a white-sided ribbon worm.
Alexa Helm is the Coastal Studies Camp Coordinator and resident Worm Aficionado. Her fascination began during her first summer with Coastal Studies, and she’s declared it her “mission in life to spread the love of worms among the people.” As she primarily works at the Peterson Bay Field Station, there’s no shortage of worms to explore in the rocky intertidal zones of Peterson and China Poot Bays.
To help with this mission, she’s curated her top 10 favorite worms you can find in Kachemak Bay’s intertidal zone, and editorialized why they’re so deserving of your love.
There’s no shortage of curious critters that call the intertidal zone home. Unfortunately, some of these critters are more universally loved and appreciated than others—looking at you, sea stars and crabs. And that makes some of the others feel kind of bad. They told me!
This specially-curated list of Kachemak Bay’s Top 10 worms will help you get excited about the things in nature that are—upon first glance—not the most warm, fuzzy, and enticing.
#10: Blood Worm (Glycera spp.)
These are feisty lil guys. They will bite you, and it will draw blood and maybe leave a scar. You don’t always find them when you’re out tide-pooling, so it’s exciting when you do find them.
Blood worm. Note that it’s in a tub, and not in a hand.
#9: Green Ribbon Worm (Emplectonema gracile)
‘Ol reliable. You got a +6 low tide? You won’t find much out there, but you know what you will find? Huge masses of tangly, slimy, goopy green ribbon worms.
#8: Amphiporus Worm (Amphiporus bimaculatus)
They’re so chunky. They’re little and cute, and they’re really chunky. Amphiporus worms are unsegmented worms, so they’ve got layers on layers of muscles that go from worm head to worm toe, and circle all around their body. These muscular structures are why worms can stretch so far and move so smoothly. Since they’re so round and chunky, they move with really dramatic undulations.
#7: Calcareous Tube Worm (Serpula vermicularis)
Calcareous tube worms looking like feathery flowers. A few empty tubes can be seen interspersed.
They’re homebuilders! And they’re everywhere! They build these little tubes for themselves that serve as their home, and you can see them on the sides of rocks and harbor pilings. They’ve got gorgeous feathery feeders, and look like little flowers when they’re splayed out. Kids love to bloop them—when you gently poke them, they bloop back into their tubes. Little crabs or other small creatures might share the worm’s tube. They’re community-oriented and hospitable creatures.
#6: Goddess Worm (Nephtys caeca)
They live up to their name. They are beautiful. They are huge. They have perhaps the most intimidating proboscis you will ever see on a worm and YET! They can’t bite you! Their mouths and proboscis aren’t built to bite. They can’t get you—which is kind—and means we need to be super careful with how we handle them because they have a harder time expressing fear or discomfort in a way we understand.
Goddess worm
Goddess worm everting its proboscis
I’m absolutely judging a worm by its appearance here. They have gorgeous pink and feathery gills that go down the side of their bodies. If you cross-sectioned this worm (which I am not advocating to do, nor do I condone) it would be more square, which is different than most other ovular worms. They’re neat beautiful goddesses.
#5: Sea Mouse (Aphrodita negligens)
The sea mouse’s mucilage is helping hold all the silt and mud onto its body.
First of all, they’re worms. Not mice. I have seen maybe only 6 of them since starting at Coastal Studies, and I remember them so well. They make such an impact.
They look really fuzzy because of a combination of bristles, mucus, and sediments. Their bristles are super neat structurally—they refract light in cool ways because they’re hollow, hexagonal, have seawater moving through them, AND are arranged in a really intricate way. Some species in other parts of the world can make a rainbow of iridescence with the ensuing light refractions—the ones we have here in Alaska have more of a greenish-coppery glisten. They’re elusive, beautiful, and very deserving of our respect.
#4: Commensal Scale Worm (Arctonoe spp.)
A worm wrapped around a limpet’s foot.
There’s lots of different kinds, but the gist is that commensal scale worms have roommates! It’s so nice. We see them most frequently among the tube feet of sea stars, but I’ve also seen them wrapped around the feet of limpets and chitons, and even nestled in hermit crab shells! They’re just hanging out! By which I mean they’re getting food and protection, and they’re not hurting the guy they’re living on.
It’s just nice that they need a friend to live with. I relate to that. It’s fun to live with others.
#3: Purple Ribbon Worm (Paranemertes peregrina)
It’s just a ribbon worm’s world and we’re all living in it. Freaking badasses. They’re also another Ol’ Reliable of the intertidal, you can find them somewhat regularly. These worms exemplify how much you wouldn’t want to mess with a ribbon worm. Ribbon worms use chemical warfare from a knife attached to their head to take down prey much bigger—and leggier—than they are, like clam worms and other things.
A purple ribbon worm devours a clam worm.
I’ve never seen something give up the way that a clam worm gives up after a purple worm stabs it with its stylet, stuns it with a neurotoxin, wraps its proboscis around it, and then starts swallowing it whole. Would you want to be that clam worm? I wouldn’t. I can’t stress this enough: we are so lucky they’re so small.
#2: Flat Worm (Kaburakia excelsa)
Giant pancake. Cross-eyed. Speckled. What more do you need?
#1: Clam Worm (Nereis spp.)
The one, the only, clam worm. I can’t stress how much I love them. They’re yet another Ol’ Reliable—consistently found while tide pooling. They get huge, which is exciting because usually it’s easier to get other people excited about worms that are huge, rather than worms that are tiny. Purely from a love-of-marine-worms standpoint, the kids are gonna love clam worms because they’re huge.
They’ve got this beautiful greenish-blueish iridescence to them, and sparkle in the sunlight (through the mud they’re usually covered in). They have a ton of little parapodia—little legs—that don’t really bend so the worms use them to just push around. They’ve got two little palps out front they use to feel around their surroundings, and it’s SUPER fun to watch them move around and explore your hand. They’re curious, they’re on the move, and they’re very active. They have a really cool wavy motion as they walk because they’re so big.
Not only are they really fun to watch and interact with, they also demand your respect. Because they bite. And the bite hurts. Pretty bad. They demand you be gentle with them, and they’ll let you know if you’re not. But if you earn their respect, they’ll cruise around your hand a little bit.
I just love them. So much. I love the other ones too, don’t get me wrong. But the clam worms get some extra bounce from me when we find them because they’re so fun and special.
The unsung heroes of so many substrates…
The world is full of amazing organisms that we could pass by, simply because we don’t take the time to look. While there are plenty of charismatic fauna that serve as wonderful ambassadors of the intertidal—crabs, starfish, anemones—there are so many others that live rich and vital lives worthy of our attention.
Worms are amazing. Worms deserve so much more love than they get. Contrary to popular belief, they’re not creepy. Maybe some of them are, but only in a complimentary way. I hope that this list inspires you to find the creatures in your own ecosystems that might be overlooked, so you can fall in love with them too.
For the chance to encounter some of these worms in the wild, join us on an excursion in Kachemak Bay…
