Collecting marine molluscs

Don't forget your notebook. Image by William Strode.

 You've doubtless experience of finding shells on a beach. But bear in mind, that to score top marks, the quality of your specimens is very important. They have to clearly show all the characteristic features for identification (their presence will not only impress the markers, but also stop you tearing your own hair out). Ideally your bivalves should display both parts of their shell - which may have different shaped teeth and other features. Realistically, you might not end up exhibiting the two halves of an individual animal, but that's ok. Gastropods should also not be too worn, and retain their original shape at their tip and aperture (empty shells can get damaged as they roll about among stones on a beach). Patterns of colour can help identification sometimes, so a shell in good condition is important for observing those too.

The Nuculidae family has elaborate hinge teeth. CC image by Shellnut

You can certainly find empty shells that will be in sufficiently good condition, so direct involvement with Death is not necessary for this group. However, if you find you want to take live specimens, and kill and clean them, then that's up to you (and some shell enthusiasts think this is the way to go). People have been boiling and eating shellfish for a very long time, so boiling's probably the method to go for. (I think I must officially recommend against the gastronomic part of the process - it's not always obvious whether 'effluents' are entering the water where filter-feeders live, and you'd need to keep them super-fresh even if not - or horrible gastric effects tend to result).

I've been looking at the website of the Conchological Society of Great Britain and Ireland, and I notice they have some detailed tips about where to seek out molluscs on rocky shores. You can look beyond the more obvious spots in rockpools and on boulders - you'll find other species lurking in crevices, in amongst seaweeds, under rocks, or specialised to live in areas with sediment or places where the receding water moves quickly. But do remember the Seashore Code (as set out by Buglife here) - and replace rocks and weeds if you move them to look underneath.

image by 27707

The 'Conchsoc' also has some good ideas about equipment you might like to take on your expedition. It's a bit of long list, though (as for many other groups) the most important things to take are waterproof label-able boxes or bags, and your notebook. As collecting environments go, you probably need to consider possible dangers more seriously, and take responsibility for your own safety (think about appropriate footwear and clothing, the times and directions of the tides, and which are safe / unsafe places to be collecting). I speak as someone who once broke their hand falling over on a rocky shore. I sat there pathetically in my rock pool until a kind soul hauled me out. Don't let this happen to you.

Hokusai's 'Shell gathering'

You can read my general remarks on collecting - and bear in mind the principles in the Joint Committee for the Conservation of British Invertebrates' code of conduct. Take empty shells where possible, don't take more specimens than you need, and do as little damage to the habitat as you can. Only a few mollusc species are protected under the Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981. They're rare and so you're unlikely to come across them - but it doesn't hurt to be aware of which they are.

Realistically, if you're on a beach where other people are wandering about, it's unlikely anyone's going to challenge you or haul you off to court for picking up a few seashells. But, I feel I ought to offer you some legally inexpert advice on where you can go and what you can do, and why seeking permission is not a bad thing, so I've written a page about that.

 Read on for information about identifying your specimens.

Collecting on the beach

Maggie Hambling's 15ft high scallop sculpture at Aldburgh. CC image by CMGlee

 I have a lovely book called 'The Essential Guide to Beachcombing and the Strandline' by Steve Trewhella and Julie Hatcher. It has everything you can think of that you might find on a walk on the beach, from seashells and seaweed to fishing litter and nurdles. It doesn't mention the legal implications of beachcombing at all, which is a) a bit surprising but b) probably entirely sensible given the complications.

'Edible Seashore' by John Wright tries to lay out the situation for foragers. He says "a tender belief lodged firmly in the bosom of most people in these islands is that they have a legal right to walk along any shore that does not sport a 'private, keep out' sign. Sadly, they are wrong. There is no general right of access to the coast and the shore is not some briny species of common land."

Precisely who owns a 'beach' (the bit above the high tide mark) is not always obvious. You'll probably want to get across that to the 'foreshore' (which is the bit between the low and high tide mark). Half of that's owned by the Crown and the rest is divvied up between local authorities, the National Trust, and various other individuals and organisations. Realistically, as long as you stay out of places with big 'No Trespassing' signs, you probably won't get into any altercations. If you can work out that the National Trust (for example) does own the bit of shore you're after, then it would be nice to seek their permission to do your collecting there. This would be especially important if your beach is a nature reserve or SSSI. They might be encouraging even so, so don't be afraid to ask (just ring up or ping them an email to explain your very low-impact and scientific intentions). They may even be interested in a list of what you find.


Rules about foraging relate mainly to just wild fruit, fungi, flowers and foliage. The 'Four Fs' have to be growing wild, and be for personal use only (you can't sell them, or it becomes theft). So if you're collecting empty shells, then you'd imagine this is of little interest to the law (gathering live shellfish to eat or sell would be a different issue). Seaweed doesn't start with an F either, and no general right to gather seaweed exists. But again, if you're not taking wheelbarrowfuls to sell, and you're not trespassing, you shouldn't get into any bother.

This article and its comments on the subject in the Guardian are quite interesting.

In short, seek permission where you can, and obey any local rules.

And if you take some litter home with you while you're at it, then you'll have positively improved the environment!

Photograph your specimens through the microscope

I sometimes think of myself as a bit of a Luddite eschewing modern technology (a student laughed at me on a field trip last year for actually using a paper map... I like to think he was sorry when his phone ran out of battery). But when it works I do like it really.

Today I finally got a microscope camera to talk to a computer. I won't bore you with the details because the important thing is that it now works and you can now come and use it. Getting the lighting right seems to be a fine art but I'm getting there. You can zoom in to the important features of your specimens, snap a photo, and then print it out and stick it in your notebook. I used it to identify two freshwater snails and I was very pleased.

They both came from a local pond lined with stone blocks (which apparently used to be where the local gentry washed their carriages - who knows). It didn't look like a very promising environment - it's pretty stagnant with more mud than water! But this actually made it a different sort of habitat to the usual ponds we visit - and so it turned up a species I'd not seen before.

You can see this species is very tightly coiled. It's only about 6mm across, and has 5+ whorls.

But also, it's very thin through - only about 1mm. I managed to hold the shell so you can see its aperture (which is pretty round).

So with these relatively few facts and a look at Collins 'Lakes, Rivers, Streams and Ponds', I identified it as Anisus leucostoma -  the White-lipped ramshorn snail. It doesn't care if the pond it's in dries up a bit: it can resist drought by staying in the mud. There's a similar looking species (Anisus vortex) but it's found in running water (and has an oval aperture) - so can be safely discounted I reckon.

For freshwater and terrestrial species I very much like the drawn illustrations in Janus's 'The Young Specialist Looks at Molluscs' (overlook the daft title) - it shows the shells from different angles (you can get a secondhand copy for about £5, or you're welcome to look at mine). The names can be out of date but that's relatively easily sorted (I might make a list to share).

The other species (in fact the only other thing alive it seemed) was a dextral snail (meaning its aperture is on the right if you hold it upright towards you). You can see the aperture is huge compared to the rest of the shell - it's about 3/4 the height. There's a little dichotomous key to Lymnaea (pond snails) in 'LRSP' - if you follow that (and look at the angle at the top of the aperture) you'll conclude this species is Radix peregra, the romantically-named Wandering snail.

I'm sure with a bit more experience with the lighting (and a bit of fiddling with Photoshop) you could make your photos even clearer. These snails were wet and I probably should have dried them to help with reflections and focusing. But I hope this encourages you that tiny things can be photographed fairly clearly. (You can also have a go down the microscope with your phone, with a steady hand).

Also on the subject of snails, did you know that because their shells are so persistent, they're used by archaeologists and people interested in past climates to work out what environments used to be like? You can see here that freshwater snails have been grouped according to their taste in habitat, so if they're uncovered hundreds of years later you can infer what it must have been like where they were living. My Ramshorn snail is in the (quite rudely titled) 'slum' category. One man's slum is another man's perfectly adequate muddy pond, thankyou. Also, 'catholic' doesn't refer to the snails' religious beliefs, but that they have wide-ranging habitat tastes.

 from Brown (2001) with updated names

So if you're collecting snails - or anything - the moral of the story is to look in a variety of habitats, and then you will find a wider range of species.

Your new skills can help make a difference

A lot of moths visiting a trap in Brunei, 1982. CC image Accassidy.

The other afternoon I was listening to Inside Science on Radio 4, and they had a piece about 'moth snowstorms'. That is, people were remembering when they would drive along in the countryside at night, and moths would be flying in from all angles into their headlights, and they'd have to start their windscreen wipers. It's certainly not something I've experienced in my lifetime. In fact it seems quite a mad idea, even though it must have been unremarkable not so long ago. Something that did ring a bell was motorcyclists saying they used to have to stop regularly and clean their visors of squashed flies. I can remember (in the 90s) saying to my dad that my friend's car was covered in gummy dead insects, and him complaining that it must have meant we were driving too fast. Some people suggest cars might be more aerodynamic these days, which might account for why gummy insects don't seem to be a problem. But that doesn't explain the visor thing - there'd still be insects on visors.

My point is, we seem to be losing insects, fast. Data from amateur entomologists' malaise traps suggest a loss of 75% in the last 25 years. I don't need to tell you that sounds pretty terrifying, when insects are a fundamental part of the food chain and pollinate a lot of plants (including our food plants). It was astoundingly refreshing to hear that the alleged environment minster, Michael Gove, has actually come round to the idea that neonicotinoid pesticides need stricter controls. One can only hope it's not shutting the door after the horse has bolted. You'd imagine spraying pesticides all over fields can't have helped matters, in addition to problems caused by other modern farming methods. So perhaps stopping spraying them might help restore some of the invertebrate populations.

A malaise trap. CC image Ceuthophilus. Nothing to do with uneasy-feeling malaise (though that may be for the insects), but actually invented by the Swedish Mr. Malaise in the 1930s.

Whilst this sounds like environmental doom and gloom (which yes, it probably is) - you have chosen this degree course so presumably want to try to make the world a better place. You can be part of the antidote to your own gloom. By developing your identification skills and submitting records to recording schemes and records centres, you can help make some difference. Your data can feed into a big picture which can persuade the powers that be to actually do something. This might not be a straightforward process because it involves politics. But having the scientific evidence has to be of critical importance, surely.

You might think "ah, what difference can I make? :( " But there really aren't that many people out there who have good identification skills. Particularly if you focus on something even slightly obscure. If you chose to go to a local habitat and record what you find, it's possible that nobody would have done that for ten, twenty years (or even ever). You might find something Really Interesting, and conceivably that could help get the site a modicum of protection one day. And even if you don't, it all becomes part of valuable data about today, and can be compared with what happens in future, and if records exist, with what was present in the past. (iRecord is an easy way to submit a record of anything you find, but if you prefer the support of a specialist scheme, the Biological Records Centre has a comprehensive list of contacts.)

Student A's lovely lichen find. CC image Jason Hollinger (California)

The other day, one of the third years popped in to see me. She chose lichens for her collection last year and got really into them. She'd been out lichen-hunting recently. When she got home and looked in her 'Dobson' guide, one of them seemed to be something unusual. The only species that seemed to match was a distinctive orange-grey lichen with little eyelashy spines around the fruiting bodies. But Dobson said it had only been seen in very few areas and was now thought extinct in this country. She had a tiny sample and we both squinted at it down the microscope. Nothing else seemed to match. I said I thought she should speak to David Hill, my esteemed lichen tutor from my course.

It turns out she was right with her identification and he was "super excited". Isn't that amazing! So this is proof that you too can find and report something excellent. She's brought something back from apparent extinction. I guess the poor lichen was never quite extinct in the first place (though it's evidently very rare) - but the point is, how many people are looking at lichens, and how many people have the skill to identify them? Not many. So your developing skills can make an impact. You can be one of an elite group that is knowledgeable and enthusiastic about lichens, beetles, mosses, or whatever it is that grabs you. We can only conserve things when we know they exist. You will be able to contribute to the body of knowledge of what's out there. Be encouraged.

There are links to over 200 recording schemes at the NBN Gateway.

For your Christmas list*: a hand lens

(*Other popular religious and secular present-buying opportunities are available. Or just treat yourself.)

I've just been to Dartmoor with the new first years. Likely you went on this trip yourself and will be able to recall the amazing Wistman's Wood, an eldritch botanical wonderland dripping with lichens and mosses. I think it's one of my favourite places.

CC image by Alex Jane

Students are obliged to spend some time collecting data about un-botanical things like wind speed. But whenever possible I tried to lure them towards close examination of the weird and diverse species covering the trees and boulders. A few people looked like they got seriously hooked, which was very gratifying. And I think the secret to an appreciation of lichens and bryophytes is a simple thing: a hand lens.

I wish I could present one to everybody but it seems university bean-counters are not keen. I can always lend you one (quality and smeariness varies). But ultimately I would urge you to consider getting one yourself. It doesn't have to cost much and it will last you a lifetime. Plus you will always have it to hand if it just lives in your bag. And you won't have any slight squeamishness about holding it right up to your eye after a dozen other people have had it in their clammy hands. Seriously, it will open up a entire microscopic world that you cannot really predict. I'd say it makes Everything more interesting - the unsuspected detail of plants and invertebrates and all sorts. But in the short term it'll certainly make your collecting a more interesting experience and make it easier to identify what you're looking at.

Like I say a million times, 'Hold it right up to your eye'. CC image from the National Park Service.

But what to get? Magnification of x10 is fine for most things. You can get twin versions which have (say) a x10 at one end and a x15 at the other if you're feeling fancy. Another thing to consider is the diameter. My lens is about 15mm across. Larger diameters are recommended.  I thought I was quite happy with mine but now I'm starting to wonder if a larger diameter wouldn't be better - it transmits more light and makes things easier to see.

You do want something that's of good enough quality that it's not going to annoy you with its blurry pointlessness. You don't necessarily have to spend huge amounts though.

This Quicktest page shows you how different lenses vary in quality (which is quite eye-opening) and therefore in price. They have a large range for sale and they make it very clear what you're getting. There are also many other reliable places, like the local company Brunel Microscopes, or UKGE, or entomological suppliers like Watkins and Doncaster,

 This is the one I have at the moment, from Quicktest, which is about £30 with delivery. It has a slightly larger size than most, so lets in a bit more light, and seems super clear - I'm really pleased with it. But you don't have to go that mad - something about £15 can be pretty decent, judging by the advice linked to above. Cheaper ones are a good way in but they're necessarily blurrier and more likely to fall apart. I bought a load of half-decent ones for work last year, but they're extremely pocketable and disappear constantly. This is disappointing and makes me loathe to spend as much again - but then spending less is a false economy if the lenses are rubbish. So if you're even half keen it's a good reason to get your own and look after it - it should last a lifetime if you don't lose it!

I'd also recommend getting a lovely bright lanyard to attach to it. Then it's much easier to find if you put it down somewhere or it falls into the vegetation. There's a huge selection on Ebay, for example. If you wear your lens round your neck you will recognise and be recognised by other natural history buffs, like some sort of weird masonic tie / handshake. This is not necessarily a bad thing: you might meet someone knowledgeable and interesting. Nerdy, probably. But nerdy about something interesting.

Public domain image by Bill Gillette - girl on a fieldtrip in the Rockies, 1972

A useful thought I read recently - when you're using it, think of it as a keyhole. That is, you must put your eye right up to it to see through. Either bring the object you're looking at towards your eye, or (often more undignified but unavoidable) bring yourself close to the object. The latter is why you might see lichen enthusiasts sprawled across the landscape, bums in air, apparently pressing their faces against the rocks.

And finally, it's possible to integrate this low-tech highly-useful bit of equipment with modern technology: with a bit of practice you can take photos through it with your mobile phone. And those would be perfect stuck in your notebook.

(P.s. - What's more, a lens will repay you handsomely on the field trip to Tenerife, where there are many fascinating plants with strange adaptations to examine microscopically. I much recommend getting one in readiness for that).

2016/17 collections: seaweed and marine molluscs

I was impressed by this marine shell collection which was submitted as a resit. It's beautifully presented and labelled. It comprises a wide range of correctly identified specimens, and they're carefully displayed so the distinguishing features of the shells can be seen (the spotted cowrie with its little mirror is ingenious). It was given a mark of 77%.
 

The labelling is clear and includes the type of habitat in which the shells were found - which is useful in addition to the location and grid reference.

The collection includes a rare example of a field notebook actually written in the field. At least, that's what it looks like, with its wind-blown looking notes in pencil. Yes it looks rough and ready, but something of this nature is what the markers will want to see in addition to all those detailed descriptions, annotated diagrams and maps and so on.

Marine molluscs didn't seem to be a popular choice this year, and nor did seaweed. But this is a good example from the seaweed collections that were submitted (I'm afraid my photo is not so good):

You can see where the student has floated her specimens onto pieces of card and then used a photo album to protect them. She collected 15 examples, which were well distributed across the brown, red and green species. Seaweeds can be difficult to identify so larger samples are good as they may be more likely to show well-developed diagnostic features. The labels were praised for their content but the feedback stated they 'would be better if typed' - so if you can pick up a mark or two for simply typing your labels, it definitely seems worth the effort of doing so. This collection was given a commendable 66%, but an extra mark here or there might have been gratefully received. The monograph was given excellent marks (12/15) for being well researched and presented, 'with good reference to your own collection' - another thing worth taking on board.

Here's a picture of the corresponding notebook. I liked the hand-drawn map with personal observation of the habitat (something you won't get with the OS), plus the use of a scale on the photo.

Boring piddocks

They're not boring, in fact they're rather interesting. But they do bore through things. I found some of their vacated shells when we went out fieldtripping the other week to the beach at Exmouth. The shells are a rather distinctive sinuous shape and the honeycombed structure caught my eye.

Pholas dactylus, the boring piddock. (Blue tac extra).

They live on shores with soft rocks like limestone or chalk or slate, and bore down into those rocks to make conical burrows with a narrow entrance and a larger chamber below.  Apparently this improves the diversity of other species present, because other creatures can use their burrows when the piddocks die. From the safety of their burrows they filter food through a siphon.

The guidance for collecting bivalves urges you to collect good quality specimens with both shells. But it's not easy to find a pair because the valves separate soon after the piddock's death. Sometimes the shells you see have been eroded from rocks where the creatures lived hundreds or thousands of years ago.

You might be lucky though and see live ones in their burrows. Jessica Winder has many pictures on her blog.  The honeycombed area on the right of the shell above would be much spinier in life and help the mollusc grind away at the rock - the piddock can twist its shells in several directions.

(Dead) piddocks in their holed rock. CC image by Jerry Kirkhart.

An even more curious piddock fact is that they produce light. The Roman writer Pliny knew about this:
"It is the nature of these fish to shine in darkness with a bright light when other light is removed, and in proportion to their amount of moisture to glitter both in the mouth of persons masticating them and in their hands, and even on the floor and on their clothes when drops fall from them, making it clear beyond all doubt that their juice possesses a property that we should marvel at even in a solid object."

The biochemical mechanism of this bioluminescence was being investigated as long ago as the 1880s. I imagine the light has evolved to attract snacks? (There's a nice summary about bioluminescence here).  Today one of the proteins involved has been isolated and is being used to indicate the early signs of infections in athletes. Scientific research.... who knows where a similarly strange observation might take you.

BHL image. Another strange mollusc which Science has only recently believed in and investigated.

General thoughts on collecting

Finnish entomologist Johan Sahlberg and his botanist wife Mimmi, just before they left on their honeymoon field-trip in 1873. Photograph by Antero Saalas.

 The Legal bit: Technically, you should only collect where you've been given permission by the landowner. Realistically, if you collect a sprig of grass from a roadside, no-one is likely to demand you are thrown in jail. But bear it in mind that under the Wildlife and Countryside Act, it is illegal to uproot any wild plant without permission from the landowner. 'Plant' includes algae, lichens, mosses, fungi and vascular plants. You don't need to uproot anything of course, just take parts of it. If you haven't got permission to be on someone land, you shoud confine yourself to public land and footpaths, or else you could get in trouble for trespassing, and that's before you've picked a thing. It doesn't hurt to be following the Countryside Code in general.

It is quite complicated in law, because there's no single law that covers such things. You do have some rights as a 'forager' which have built up around collecting plants for food. The British Mycological Society have some sensible advice regarding picking fungi but you'll find there's increasing worries about people collecting large amounts of mushrooms and then selling them to fancy restaurants (selling things on is not really in the spirit of traditional foraging).

Also, it is very tempting to want to go to a nature reserve to collect - after all, that's surely where all the nature is? Actually, you'll find you can collect a remarkable number of species from uncontroversial places. If you really do want to collect at a nature reserve, you should ask first. In my experience they may give permission - just contact the relevant Wildlife Trust (etc.) and explain you are doing a taxonomic collection for university and only want a specimen or two of common species. Reassure them that you will not be digging anything up, least of all their rare species. Always take the minimum amount of material necessary wherever you are.  

 There's more advice in the Wildflower Society code of conduct. You might also want to read the Botanical Society of Britain and Ireland's code of conduct. It encouragingly says "Collecting small amounts of plant material for identification purposes, for private herbaria, for research or as voucher specimens is usually acceptable, except in the case of protected or Red List species. Indeed, collecting is often necessary if botanical expertise is to be developed."

 The Amateur Entomologists Society has similar advice concerning invertebrates. Although I feel pangs of guilt killing them, the main threat to species in this country is habitat loss. The code points out that "collecting should always be limited to the minimum necessary for the purpose intended, as well as by full compliance with legal requirements relating to particular sites and species."   

It is rather unlikely you'll come across rare species (the clue being in the name). Surprisingly, very few are specifically protected by law. Obviously, if you're in a reserve where one exists, you should make yourself aware of its appearance and avoid collecting any.

In short, use common sense and all will be well. Stick to public places and no-one will threaten you with a shotgun. Develop a casual demeanour and learn to shrug off the strange looks the public will doubtless throw you. Never be without a plastic bag or collecting pot. The latter is the best bit of advice I can give you :)

 

The Health and Safety bit: 

If you look at the course guidance on Blackboard, you will see that before going out collecting it requires you to send a risk assessment to Katy. This is not so onerous, as there is a generic version on Blackboard - you just need to go through it and remove anything irrelevant to your own situation, and perhaps add in anything extra. 

For example, you can delete any of the chemicals you won't be using for preservation. You've survived this long so presumably you are good at common sense - but here's a recap anyway-

Take someone with you (it's more fun, besides).
 Let someone know where you're going and when you ought to be back (a map and a phone are useful too).
Especially if you're like me, take a snack and something to drink so you don't pass out in a ditch.
Take your medicine with you if you suffer from some life-threatening illness (now I feel like I'm talking to my mother).
Take some sensible clothing and footwear with you (and now I am turning into my mother).

Fill in your details on the form - send a copy to Katy and keep a copy for yourself.
Then you can go forth and start collecting.

Thoughts on presenting your mollusc collection

Conchological collections (i.e. specifically of shells, rather than for studying the animals they belong to) were popular amongst 18th century natural historians. I saw two enormous and elaborate displays in the National Museum of Denmark recently - they were largely 'cabinets of curiosities' designed to impress one's friends and provoke conversation. You might not want to go as far as turning over a wing of your house just yet.

Public domain image of the C18th Leverian Museum.

My favourite Victorian mollusc collector suggests a series of flat boxes in a drawer. I've seen student collections like this and the shells are certainly well protected. It's also easy to stick labels to the boxes. It troubles me though that somebody examining the shells could muddle up the box lids (and consequently the identification) - perhaps the labels are best inside. You could leave the boxes unlidded, or use ones with clear plastic or glass lids. You might be able to fashion something from a deep picture frame, or buy a wooden display box made for jewellery or trinkets. You'll probably need to be a bit creative (or have deep pockets).

Another method would be to put the specimens into lidded glass or plastic tubes. The identification (on a piece of card) could be inserted inside the tube. It's traditional to use a wisp of cotton wool to cushion the specimen. I've got some tubes you might like. Then you'll need to think of something to put your tubes in (perhaps so they're arranged taxonomically).

It's probably best not to use a method that involves glueing your specimens down, because they won't be available for close examination and identification.

I recently read an article about The Curse of Cotton Wool to the staff at the University of Cambridge Museums, and it made me wonder whether there might be good snail-displaying solutions in using foam or tissue paper.

Another possibility could be to use small zip-lock plastic bags - perhaps not beautifully aesthetic, but certainly cheap and easily label-able. You could attach them to a board. Or use them to keep your shells safe in their boxes.

Naturally your collection will bear all the usual what, where, when and who information on each label - perhaps along with a note of the habitat where you found your snail (all of this will be easy to extract from your notebook, with a bit of luck).

CC image by Dysmachus

Being clumsy it worries me slightly to see these shells rattling around free-range - what if they got dropped on the floor and you had to identify them all over again? In this instance I think I'd be inclined to dab a tiny spot of white paint on each one and give them an identifying number to match one on their label. You may think this overly paranoid.

Visually, I think I prefer tubes - but those aren't going to be much use for a gigantic razorshell or a freshwater mussel. Perhaps you'll be inspired by pictures of the 100,000-strong collection at the Burke Museum in Seattle. There's a video too (insanely long, but you can flick through to see the range of displays).

Have a look at this page to see a marine mollusc collection that got a good mark,

and for more presentation inspiration the terrestrial snails collections here, 
and here
and here.

Guides for identifying marine gastropods and bivalves

The very variable Variegated Scallop - CC image by Hectonichus

The seaside being a popular place, there are lots of guides to choose from when you're starting out. For example, we have copies of the Oxford Photographic Guide to Sea and Shore Life of Britain and North-west Europe, and Hayward's Sea Shore of Britain and Europe (Collins Pocket Guide) (this one has drawings not photos). These are great because they give you a good overview of what's out there, and you can start to see which family is probably the right one for your specimen. Then you'll need to dive into the detail to pick out your exact species.

I've found this downloadable shell identification guide by Ian Wallace for the Liverpool Bay Marine Recording Partnership to be excellently produced. He's very good at pointing out the distinguishing features of the different species - especially for bivalves (bivalves can be a bit of a headache). I like it a lot. I can print one off for you in colour if you like. We're not in Liverpool of course, but there will be much overlap with species you might find more locally.

The Conchological Society of Great Britain has useful online habitat-specific species lists: There are species you might find on sandy and muddy shores and on rocky shores. The names link to pages giving detailed descriptions and distribution maps.

But even the great guides above are essentially pictures with descriptions, and you will remember that you've got to show your use of a key for your assessment. Plus, with many species you'll feel more confident about your identification (and learn a lot) by using a key - it's not always easy to just match your shell to a picture.

CC image of a bivalve by Muriel Gottrop

A revelation to me last year was getting hold of the classic 'British Bivalve Seashells' by Norman Tebble (Tebble's a great name is it not.. it sounds like a sort of bivalve to me?!). It's long out of print and I have one copy at the moment, but you're welcome to come and use it in the lab. You'll have to steel yourself to learn some technical language about the different parts of a shell. It will make your brain hurt (this proves the knowledge is going in). But Student H and I got stuck into it with some success, so I know I can help you if you want to give it a try. The National Museum of Wales has a website called 'Marine Bivalve Shells of the British Isles' (but the key wasn't working recently?) - I think it's pretty much based on Tebble's keys.

That website also has an interesting page on all the terminology for the parts of the bivalve shells and their shapes (unfortunately it's not a very well set out page as you have to scroll across it). It's very detailed and you may think it a bit advanced for your needs, but I think it's useful if you're working your way through a key like Tebble, and want to describe your shells in an appropriately malacologist-like way.

 Other key options (for shells other than bivalves) can be found in Hayward and Ryland's 'Handbook of the Marine Fauna of North-West Europe' (of which we have several copies).

There's another key by Crothers in the Field Studies Journal for 2003 but it does frequently mention live animals, and it's likely your shells will have been vacated, so it may be of limited use.

 It can be a bit frightening  using the keys, as you'll have to get to grips with some terminology, but if you've already got some idea of what family your mollusc is, it's not so bad. Anyway, we can look at them together if you like.

All the books seem to use different names, resulting in maximum confusion. But you can check the most up-to-date names using the Natural History Museum's Dictionary of UK Species. If you've got a bivalve, the National Museum of Wales' database of  'Marine Bivalve Shells of the British Isles' has a good search function that will give you the latest name if you put in a defunct one.

Some words about the marking scheme

You can read the official guidance on the marking scheme on Blackboard. This is the basic structure:

You can see that you're going to pick up a lot of points merely by getting organised early and doing the things the guidance asks you to do - it's not some subjective number plucked out of the air, so make sure you're following, and it you can get a high mark!

The 30% for 'the collection' means you'll be assessed on the quality and quantity of your specimens. Keep collecting throughout the year and you will get lots to put in - try not to leave everything until the last minute. People often ask how many they should submit, and I've written some thoughts here. Choose specimens that are undamaged and show the critical diagnostic features. Preserve them in a manner appropriate to the group you're collecting.

With 'identification and labelling' you can easily pick up marks just by including all the essential what / where / when / who information. Of course, accuracy of identification is very important! But if you collect a wide variety specimens you may be able to afford leaving out any you're unsure of. It's better to submit fewer specimens which are identified correctly, than loads of which half are wrong.

Presentation and display only offer 10 marks - but if you can be neat and set your specimens out taxonomically, clearly and attractively, it's surely an easy 10 marks? If your handwriting is illegible (or even if it's not) you can print your labels. I've tried to offer some advice about ways to display your specimens in the information about each taxonomic group. You can go down the traditional route or let your imagination roam.

The official guidance sets out in detail what should be in the field diary and the monograph- if you make sure you follow its advice, you will get marks accordingly! As I've said elsewhere, the field diary "only" gets 15% of the marks. But recording things in it diligently will pay dividends when you come to identify and label your specimens.

Just a small word of caution - some of the group-specific guidance on Blackboard is quite 'vintage' so be aware that some identification books recommended may have been superceded... I hope I've given you some more recent ideas on this website though.

'Who' - the final bit of essential information

The author assists a student in identifying some aquatic invertebrates

There aren't that many people out there who have the skills you'll develop while you're doing this assignment. 

And not only that, you'll be producing a record of the species that exist out there right now - and quite probably (because not that many people are doing such a thing), the species you collect and identify might not have been noted from the particular area you took them from before. Possibly ever, and at the least, often not for a long time.

So your records could be really useful - they can feed into a bigger picture about the biodiversity of this country and how it might be changing.

Around Bristol you could send your records to the Bristol Regional Environmental Records Centre (BRERC) - the people there would ensure your data would be sent to specialist recording schemes (see below) and eventually added to the National Biodiversity Network (NBN) Gateway. From there it could be used for all sorts of useful research, even contributing to scientifically supported changes in government policy (yes such things have been known).

If your gathering took place further afield, you can find the appropriate records centre on this list from the National Forum for Biological Recording.

Or, you may prefer to send them directly to one of the many recording schemes for specific groups of organisms: the national Biological Records Centre has a list of them (including certainly niche but perhaps nerdily cool things like slime moulds, ticks and stoneworts). In fact, if you get really into your subject, you'll be able to find much future support from these groups.

Different recording schemes might require your records in slightly different formats - but one thing all of them will want is the What, Where, When and Who.

The Who is you - as it's likely that you will have both collected and identified your specimens. So technically, you should add your name to each of your labels.

Without the who, you've certainly got a taxonomic collection, but you haven't truly produced any biological records with a potentially wider value. However, you may say that your work is supposed to be marked anonymously, and that you don't want (and shouldn't have) your name on it. You certainly won't be marked down for not putting your name on it, and from the point of view of the university, you probably shouldn't put your name on it. There is the dilemma and I leave it with you.