Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Ascarophis


Ascarophis sp.



When I saw the reports of giant amphipods being dragged up from the Kermadec Trench off the coast of New Zealand, my immediate thought was "I wonder what parasites it has?" This promoted me to do a write-up of a paper I've read recently, which is about a parasite that infects amphipods - admittedly those that are more modestly sized. Today, we are featuring a study on Ascarophis, a nematode worm that infects an intertidal amphipod (Gammarus deubeni) in Passamaquoddy Bay, New Brunswick, Canada. Compared with related species this worm has evolved to live the simple life(-cycle), and avoids the complications that come with having a complex life-cycle.

Previously on this blog, we have featured parasites that have evolved to take short-cuts with their complicated life-cycles. When a particular host is absent, such parasites may opt to ditch that host from their life-cycle, and switch up their developmental schedule. This is the case with the fluke Coitocaecum parvum. However, while C. parvum can switch between different life-cycles depending on circumstances, Ascarophis has completely abandoned that altogether, and has evolved to make things simpler by completing its entire life-cycle within its amphipod host. Usually, parasites with complex life-cycles use different hosts for different functions - i.e., one host might merely serve as a transport and/or resources for temporary development, whereas another acts as a mating ground and/or habitat in which it reaches maturity. So how can Ascarophis get so much functionality out of a tiny little crustacean?

Nematodes normally go through 4 larval stages (L1-L4) before becoming a sexual mature "fifth stage" worm (L5). The end of each larval stage is accompanied by a molt (rather like insects). In related nematodes that have retained their complex life-cycle, the L3 worms (which are ready to infect the next host) live encapsulated in the first host, while the L4-L5 live in the digestive tract of the final host. What the researchers found with the Ascarophis they collected from New Brunswick is that L1 and L2 worms were found in the muscle tissue, and upon reaching L3 the worms begin to migrate into the body cavity where they complete their development into adulthood and start producing eggs. Now compare this with Ascarophis from the White and Baltic Seas, which also infect amphipods, but uses a species of sculpin as their final host. Those fish acquire their infection by eating amphipods infected with L3 stage nematode, and the worms develop into adults in the fish's gut.

In effect, the Ascarophis from New Brunswick gets the most out of its little crustacean host by using different parts of the amphipod's body as surrogates for different hosts - instead of being transmitted to a different host, it simply moves to occupy a different part whose function is close enough to its needs for it to complete its development. Unlike the C. parvum, it appears that Ascarophis has abandoned the fish host altogether, and has committed itself to using the amphipod as the sole host for its entire life-cycle. Even though the Ascarophis found in the White and Baltic Seas have retained their complex life-cycle, researchers of this study suggested that they are the same species as the worms they looked at, but the New Brunswick variant has simply adapted to local condition and evolved a different life-cycle. However, it must be noted that the researchers have come to this conclusion based on the worm's morphology and as we have seen before, appearance can be deceptivewith nematodes.

Through all that, this plucky little New Brunswick parasite faces one last problem - getting its eggs out of its crustacean host. For worms that live in inside a fish's gut, passing eggs out into the environment is a pretty straightforward affair - the eggs simply get washed out with the poop. But there is no exit in the body cavity of an amphipod, so how is a worm supposed to cast its eggs out into the environment? Well, this thrifty nematode simply waits for the host to die, and as the body disintegrates, the eggs are released as well. Of course, it helps that these amphipods have a tendency to cannibalise the rotting bodies of their fallen comrades - this presents the perfect opportunity for the parasite to infect a new batch of hosts - yet another reason to not gnaw on any random corpses you may come across.

Halophilanema prolata


Halophilanema prolata

Today's parasite and host are found among the dunes on the coast of Waldport, Oregon. In this story, the host is a little bug - and by bug, I do mean it in the literal scientific sense of the word, as in ahemipteran insect - the shore bug Saldula laticollis. The parasite is a nematode called Halophilanema prolata which, when translated, means "elongated sea salt-loving thread" - which sounds like an item you can find in a specialty gourmet shop or a post on a foodie forum. The mature female worm lives inside the bug's body cavity (top photo), surrounded by her babies (bottom photo). The larval worms reach a very advanced stage of development inside their mother's uterus before they emerge into the bug's body cavity. Each larva then escapes into the sun and surf and undergoes a final molt. It then finds an attractive mate in the sand, and gets on with the business of making the next-generation of bug-infesting worms.

Post-coital, the now fertilised female climbs onto any unfortunate shore bug that happens to be passing through the neighbourhood, and starts digging in. Most of the bugs infected by H. prolata were found among clumps of rushes along a distinct line of yellow-tint sand at the high tide mark. This sand contains a potpourri of algae, microbes, and nematodes - including H. prolata at various stages of development. This is evidently a hot spot for the parasite, because in that area, up to 85% of the bugs are infected.

Now, something must be said about the habitat of today's host and the parasite. The intertidal zone is a harsh habitat, especially for both insects and nematodes. Any organisms living in such areas must be able to endure being periodically immersed in seawater, and then left high and dry by the retreating tide. The combination of saltwater, periodic immersion and exposure poses severe osmoregulationchallenges, which is why despite their great diversity, comparatively few insects have colonised the intertidal habitats. But what about H. prolata?

There are nematode worms which live permanently in marine habitats, and they have bodily fluids that are the same level of saltiness as seawater so they don't suffer from osmotic stress. But H. prolata has evolved from a lineage of terrestrial nematodes which would be subjected to severe osmotic stress (just like how you will dehydrate if you are immersed in seawater for too long - the high solute concentration of seawater draws fluid from your cells). So how do they manage?

Halophilanema prolata has evolved a raincoat of sorts - its cuticle has very low permeability (very difficult for water to move through it) so that it retains its body fluid more readily than animals with more permeable body walls. This also makes these little worms very resistant to other types of chemical stress - they can survive being immersed in 70% ethanol or 5% formalin (which are usually used for pickling biological specimens) - for up to 48 hours - because as well as making it difficult for fluid to diffuse out, a cuticle with low permeability also makes it difficult for other liquid to diffuse in.

So the next time you are at a beach, think about the little insects which are running around with nematodes swimming in their innards, and the microscopic worms getting it on underneath your feet. Why would you want it any other way?

Mysidobdella californiensis



Mysidobdella californiensis




Marine leeches are commonly known to feed on various vertebrate hosts - mainly fish and sea turtles. However, today's parasite stands out from the pack by associating itself with an arthropod.  Instead of fish or turtles, Mysidobdella californiensis sticks its sucker onto mysid shrimps. Mysids are also known as opossum shrimps because the females have a little brood pouch (called a marsupium) in which they carry developing young.



The discovery of Mysidobdella californiensisactually occurred rather serendipitously. Back in the summer and fall of 2010, an unprecedentedly huge swarm of mysid shrimp appeared off the central Californian coast. Some of those shrimps got sucked into the water clarification system at the Bodega Marine Laboratory. With all this shrimp in the system, the lab staff began collecting them opportunistically for fish food. But then, they started noticing these little leeches attached to the shrimps, so they made a concerted effort to collect the shrimps directly from the water clarifier, and examine them under the microscope.



What they found were tiny leeches about 1.5 cm (a bit above half an inch) long. Approximately one in every six shrimp were found to have leeches on them, and each infected shrimp was carrying between one to three leeches. Seeing as this is a new species, at this stage very little is known about its biology except what can be inferred based on what we know of a related species - M. borealis - which has been studied in slightly more details. It is unclear whether M. californiensis (and related species) merely hitch-hike on the shrimp and use it to carry them to potential hosts, or if they in fact feed on the shrimp. In laboratory trials on M. borealis, the leeches refused to feed on any of the fishes that they were presented with, and none of the leeches were found to have fish blood cells in their gut. It is possible that Mysidobdella as a genus specialise in feeding on mysid shrimps. If that is indeed the case, then Mysidobdella would be the only marine leech known to feed on the blood of invertebrates rather than vertebrates. However, mysid blood has yet to be found in the gut of these leeches, so at least at this point, the diet of M. californiensis remains a mystery.