The natural world has always held my interest. Finding things–wildflowers, berries, shells, rocks–each provide an immersive experience for me: an opportunity to direct my attention, to show respect, and to learn. The physical transition from terrestrial to marine landform–the beach–is a place rich with mysterious finds. The ocean, acting as a shared connection with the world, occasionally deposits a small window into the big blue ecosystem of the Atlantic Ocean that is largely unknown. Walking the beach, the ocean lapping and chasing your feet, the wind blowing salt and sea, it’s always unknown what mysteries await the attentive.

This past November, my sister and I were walking along Cape Hatteras National Seashore between Salvo and Avon when we came upon a colorful turquoise gelatinous blob caked in gritty sand. Though I had never seen one in person, I immediately recognized the object as the sail for a Portuguese Man of War. I had no camera on my person at the time and blasted myself for once again missing a cool opportunity to document one of the many beautiful things that wash ashore along the Outer Banks and North Carolina coast.

The following days, however, would reveal that when one Portuguese Man of War washes ashore, there will likely be others. I traveled south, towards Buxton and Frisco–where the Gulf Stream runs closer to the barrier islands–and found hundreds of tiny turquoise sails littering the nearshore. Upon further research, it seems that Portuguese Man O’ War’s–who typically sail the open oceans and tropical waters down near south Florida–will often hitch a ride along the Gulf Stream when currents and winds are favorable, sailing north along the eastern seaboard. The barrier islands of North Carolina extend far into the ocean and place Cape Hatteras National Seashore very near to the warm waters of the Gulf. A local to the area mentioned to me that a hard southerly wind can often deposit legions–to continue the war terminology–of these colorful blobs along the beach.

It goes without saying that I did not set out to create fine art imagery of these critters; the following would be considered largely mediocre snapshots within the high-end macro set of photographers out there. These photographs are simply documentary in nature; my curiosity and excitement to connect with another new piece of the natural world in visual form.

Each Portuguese Man O’ War has a gas-filled sail that provides for floatation and navigation while at sea.  I found the pink coloration in the sails fascinating and beautiful behind the lens.

The Portuguese Man O’ War is not a jellyfish. In fact, it is not one single organism. Each Portuguese Man O’ War is a colony of many functionally specialized organisms (zooids) working together. This makes the Man O’ War a Siphonophore, or a colonial hydrozoan. Four primary zooids comprise the Portuguese Man O’ War: the sail, the tentacles, digestive polyps, and reproductive polyps. There’s lots of research and deep reading available online for anyone who is better than me with big words and scientific speak!

The Portuguese Man O’ War is part of a pleuston, a large community of organisms inhabiting the sea to air interface that travel together in numbers. A gas-filled float sits above the surface of the sea, buoying a set of long, venomous tentacles that drag below the surface. Exposed to the sun and to the vagaries of the sea, the gas-filled floats have the ability to be deflated for short periods to submerge the Man O’ War. In addition, the gas-filled float of the Portuguese Man O’ War can be either left- or right-handed. Without the means for propulsion, the Man O’ War relies upon the wind and currents to move leisurely about the open ocean. The differing lean of the sail (left- versus right-handed) ensures a hard blow will not wipe out the entire legion (half will be beached while the other half will be blown safely back out to sea).

Once beached, most of the Portuguese Man O’ Wars that I found did not have their full set of tentacles (although some did). These are the dangerous parts of the colonial organism, capable of delivering a considerable sting even after beaching and otherwise withering away. Mostly, I found a bunch of very small gas-filled sails. One fisherman’s wife even laughed when she found out the little turquoise bubbles were venomous, highly-feared Man O’ Wars as she was just referring to them as “poppers” because they made a similar noise when she accidentally stepped on the gas-filled bubbles while walking the beach in search of shells!

The details and colors on Portuguese Man O’ War are stunning when viewed closely.  In this photo, I found myself reflected within the bubbles along the polyps.  I wish that my macro lens provided even greater magnification!