The Log From the Sea of Cortez (Penguin Classics) (23 page)

BOOK: The Log From the Sea of Cortez (Penguin Classics)
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Strictly, the term non-teleological thinking ought not to be applied to what we have in mind. Because it involves more than thinking, that term is inadequate.
Modus operandi
might be better—a method of handling data of any sort. The example cited just above concerns feeling more than thinking. The method extends beyond thinking even to living itself; in fact, by inferred definition it transcends the realm of thinking possibilities, it postulates “living into.”
 
In the destitute-unemployed illustration, thinking, as being the evaluatory function chiefly concerned, was the point of departure, “the crust to break through.” There the “blame approach” considered the situation in the limited and inadequate teleological manner. The non-teleological method included that viewpoint as correct but limited. But when it came to the feeling aspects of a human relation situation, the non-teleological method would probably ameliorate the woman’s fears in a loving, truly mellow, and adequate fashion, whereas the teleological would have tended to bungle things by employing the limited and sophisticated approach.
 
Incidentally, there is in this connection a remarkable etiological similarity to be noted between cause in thinking and blame in feeling. One feels that one’s neighbors are to be blamed for their hate or anger or fear. One thinks that poor pavements are “caused” by politics. The non-teleological picture in either case is the larger one that goes beyond blame or cause. And the non-causal or non-blaming viewpoint seems to us very often relatively to represent the “new thing,” the Hegelian “Christ-child” which arises emergently from the union of two opposing viewpoints, such as those of physical and spiritual teleologies, especially if there is conflict as to causation between the two or within either. The new viewpoint very frequently sheds light over a larger picture, providing a key which may unlock levels not accessible to either of the teleological viewpoints. There are interesting parallels here: to the triangle, to the Christian ideas of trinity, to Hegel’s dialectic, and to Swedenborg’s metaphysic of divine love (feeling) and divine wisdom (thinking).
 
The factors we have been considering as “answers” seem to be merely symbols or indices, relational aspects of things—of which they are integral parts—not to be considered in terms of causes and effects. The truest reason for anything’s being so is that it
is.
This is actually and truly a reason, more valid and clearer than all the other separate reasons, or than any group of them short of the whole. Anything less than the whole forms part of the picture only, and the infinite whole is unknowable except by
being
it, by living into it.
 
A thing may be so “because” of a thousand and one reasons of greater or lesser importance, such as the man oversized because of glandular insufficiency. The integration of these many reasons which are in the nature of relations rather than reasons is that he is. The separate reasons, no matter how valid, are only fragmentary parts of the picture. And the whole necessarily includes all that it impinges on as object and subject, in ripples fading with distance or depending upon the original intensity of the vortex.
 
The frequent allusions to an underlying pattern have no implication of mysticism—except inasmuch as a pattern which comprises infinity in factors and symbols might be called mystic. But infinity as here used occurs also in the mathematical aspects of physiology and physics, both far away from mysticism as the term is ordinarily employed. Actually, the underlying pattern is probably nothing more than an integration of just such symbols and indices and mutual reference points as are already known, except that its power is
n.
Such an integration might include nothing more spectacular than we already know. But, equally, it
could
include anything, even events and entities as different from those already known as the vectors, tensors, scalars, and ideas of electrical charges in mathematical physics are different from the mechanical-model world of the Victorian scientists.
 
In such a pattern, causality would be merely a name for something that exists only in our partial and biased mental reconstructings. The pattern which it indexes, however, would be real, but not intellectually apperceivable because the pattern goes everywhere and is everything and cannot be encompassed by finite mind or by anything short of life—which it is.
 
The psychic or spiritual residua remaining after the most careful physical analyses, or the physical remnants obvious, particularly to us of the twentieth century, in the most honest and disciplined spiritual speculations of medieval philosophers, all bespeak such a pattern. Those residua, those most minute differentials, the 0.001 percentages which suffice to maintain the races of sea animals, are seen finally to be the most important things in the world, not because of their sizes, but because they are everywhere. The differential is the true universal, the true catalyst, the cosmic solvent. Any investigation carried far enough will bring to light these residua, or rather will leave them still unassailable as Emerson remarked a hundred years ago in “The Oversoul”—will run into the brick wall of the
impossibility
of perfection while at the same time insisting on the
validity
of perfection. Anomalies especially testify to that framework; they are the commonest intellectual vehicles for breaking through; all are solvable in the sense that
any one
is understandable, but that one leads with the power
n
to still more and deeper anomalies.
 
This deep underlying pattern inferred by non-teleological thinking crops up everywhere—a relational thing, surely, relating opposing factors on different levels, as reality and potential are related. But it must not be considered as causative, it simply exists, it is, things are merely expressions of it as it is expressions of them. And they
are
it, also. As Swinburne, extolling Hertha, the earth goddess, makes her say: “Man, equal and one with me, man that is made of me, man that is I,” so all things which are
that
—which is all—equally may be extolled. That pattern materializes everywhere in the sense that Eddington finds the non-integer q “number” appearing everywhere, in the background of all fundamental equations,
35
in the sense that the speed of light, constant despite compoundings or subtractions, seemed at one time almost to be conspiring against investigation.
 
The whole is necessarily everything, the whole world of fact and fancy, body and psyche, physical fact and spiritual truth, individual and collective, life and death, macrocosm and microcosm (the greatest quanta here, the greatest synapse between these two), conscious and unconscious, subject and object. The whole picture is portrayed by
is,
the deepest word of deep ultimate reality, not shallow or partial as reasons are, but deeper and participating, possibly encompassing the Oriental concept of
being.
 
And all this against the hot beach on an Easter Sunday, with the passing day and the passing time. This little trip of ours was becoming a thing and a dual thing, with collecting and eating and sleeping merging with the thinking-speculating activity. Quality of sunlight, blueness and smoothness of water, boat engines, and ourselves were all parts of a larger whole and we could begin to feel its nature but not its size.
 
 
15
 
About noon we sailed and moved out of the shrouded and quiet Amortajada Bay and up the coast toward Marcial Reef, which was marked as our next collecting station. We arrived in mid-afternoon and collected on the late tide, on a northerly pile of boulders, part of the central reef. This was just south of Marcial Point, which marks the southern limit of Agua Verde Bay.
 
It was not a good collecting tide, although it should have been according to the tide chart. The water did not go low enough for exhaustive collecting. There were a few polyclads which here were high on the rocks. We found two large and many small chitons—the first time we had discovered them in numbers. There were many urchins visible but too deep below the surface to get to. Swarms of larval shrimps were in the water swimming about in small circles. The collecting was not successful in point of view of numbers of forms taken.
 
That night we rigged a lamp over the side, shaded it with a paper cone, and hung it close down to the water so that the light was reflected downward. Pelagic isopods and mysids immediately swarmed to the illuminated circle until the water seemed to heave and whirl with them. The small fish came to this horde of food, and on the outer edges of the light ring large fishes flashed in and out after the small fishes. Occasionally we interrupted this mad dance with dip-nets, dropping the catch into porcelain pans for closer study, and out of the nets came animals small or transparent that we had not noticed in the sea at all.
 
Having had no good tide at Marcial Reef, we arose at four o’clock the following morning and went in the darkness to collect again. We carried big seven-cell focusing flashlights. In some ways they make collecting in the dark, in a small area at least, more interesting than daytime collecting, for they limit the range of observation so that in the narrowed field one is likely to notice more detail. There is a second reason for our preference for night collecting—a number of animals are more active at night than in the daytime and they seem to be not much disturbed or frightened by artificial light. This time we had a very fair tide. The light fell on a monster highly colored spiny lobster in a crevice of the reef. He was blue and orange and spotted with brown. The taking of him required caution, for these big lobsters are very strong and are so armed with spikes and points that in struggling with one the hands can be badly cut. We approached with care, bent slowly down, and then with two hands grabbed him about the middle of the body. And there was no struggle whatever. He was either sick or lazy or hurt by the surf, and did not fight at all.
 
The cavities in Marcial Reef held a great many club-spined urchins and a number of the sharp-spined purple ones which had hurt us before. There were numbers of sea-fans, two of the usual starfish and a new species
36
which later we were to find common farther north in the Gulf. We took a good quantity of the many-rayed sun-stars, and a flat kind of cucumber which was new to us.
37
This was the first time we had collected at night, and under our lights we saw the puffer fish lazily feeding near the surface in the clear water. On the bottom, the brittle-stars, which we had always found under rocks, were crawling about like thousands of little snakes. They rarely move about in the daylight. Wherever the sharp, powerful rays of the flashlight cut into the water we could see the moving beautiful fish and the bottoms alive with busy feeding invertebrates. But collecting with a flashlight is difficult unless it is arranged that two people work together—one to hold the light and the other to take the animals. Also, from constant wetting in salt water the life of a flashlight is very short.
 
The one huge and beautiful lobster was the prize of this trip. We tried to photograph him on color film and as usual something went wrong but we got a very good likeness of one end of him, which was an improvement on our previous pictures. In most of our other photographs we didn’t get either end.
 
We took several species of chitons and a great number of tunicates. There were several turbellarian flatworms, but these are so likely to dissolve before they preserve that we had great difficulties with them. There were in the collecting pans several species of brittie-stars,numbers of small crabs and snapping shrimps, plumularian hydroids, bivalves of a number of species, snails, and some small sea-urchins. There were worms, hermit crabs, sipunculids, and sponges. The pools too had been thick with pelagic larval shrimps, pelagic isopods—tiny crustacea similar to sow-bugs—and tiny shrimps (mysids). In this area the water seemed particularly peopled with small pelagic animals—“bugs,” so the boys said. Everywhere there were bugs, flying, crawling, and swimming. The shallow and warm waters of the area promoted a competitive life that was astonishing.
 
After breakfast we pulled up the anchor and set out again northward. The pattern of the technique of the trip had by now established itself almost as a habit with us; collecting, running to a new station, collecting again. The water was intensely blue on this run, and the fish were very many. We could see the splashing of great schools of tuna in the distance where they beat the water to spray in their millions. The swordfish leaped all about us, and someone was on the bow the whole time trying to drive a light harpoon into one, but we never could get close enough. Cast after cast fell short.
 
We preserved and labeled as we went, and the water was so smooth that we had no difficulty with delicate animals. If the boat rolls, retractile animals such as anemones and sipunculids are more than likely to draw into themselves and refuse to relax under the Epsom-salts treatment, but this sea was as smooth as a lawn, and our wake fanned out for miles behind us.
 
The fish-lines on the stays snapped and jerked and we brought in skipjack, Sparky’s friend of the curious name, and the Mexican sierra. This golden fish with brilliant blue spots is shaped like a trout. In size it ranges from fifteen inches to two feet, is slender and a very rapid swimmer. The sierra does not seem to travel in dense, surface-beating schools as the tuna does. Although it belongs with the mackerel-like forms, its meat is white and delicate and sweet. Simply fried in big hunks, it is the most delicious fish of all.

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