Snail Shocker: Rare Kiwi Snail Lays Egg From Its Neck
A rare carnivorous New Zealand snail has been filmed laying an egg from its neck. Discover the bizarre biology and conservation tale of the Powelliphanta augusta.
In what can only be described as a right pearler of a moment in snail-spotting history, a rare New Zealand land snail has been filmed doing something no one had ever seen before: laying an egg straight from its neck. And before you say pull the other one, this is bona fide footage captured by the Department of Conservation, not some wacky creature feature from late-night show.
The star of the show is Powelliphanta augusta, also charmingly known as the Mount Augustus snail – a rare, carnivorous beast about the size of a golf ball and with the appetite of a slug-slaying ninja. One minute it was being weighed like any law-abiding gastropod, the next – lo and behold – out popped a smooth, white egg, from what appears to be its neck. Talk about being caught with your trousers down.
Ingrid Gruner, who’s been on snail duty since the early days of the conservation programme, said the sighting was “quite remarkable” – which in conservationist-speak is the equivalent of shouting, “Good Lord! It’s laid a ruddy egg!” She went on to say, “In all the years we’ve been doing this, we’ve never encountered it.” Which is code for: even the old hands were gobsmacked.
Now, these aren’t your average garden grazers. Powelliphanta are more like the Rolls-Royce of molluscs – slow-growing, slug-munching and long-living, with some residents of the Department of Conservation’s snail hotel pushing 35 years. That’s right – a snail with more staying power than your nan’s fruitcake. They mature sexually at a leisurely eight years and lay no more than five hen-sized eggs a year, which take an age to hatch – talk about playing the long game.
But the real kicker is in the plumbing. According to the department’s senior science adviser, Kath Walker, these snails are hermaphrodites – each one equipped with the full toolkit, if you will. The romantic process involves both snails extending their… er, reproductive bits from a genital pore in the neck. It’s like something out of a David Attenborough fever dream.
“They simultaneously exchange sperm and store it for later, so they can fertilise when they fancy,” Walker explained. Efficient, and very modern.
The footage was something of a fluke – the kind of thing you stumble upon while checking weights and expecting a bog-standard day with the molluscs. But Flanagan, one of the rangers with over a decade of snail-wrangling under her belt, was quick to point out these snails are chalk and cheese compared to your garden-variety pests. The introduced snails breed like rabbits and live fast, die young. Powelliphanta, on the other hand, are more of a slow-burn saga.
And it’s a good job someone’s keeping an eye on them. The Mount Augustus snail’s original stomping ground was rudely interrupted by mining operations back in 2006, which kicked up a right kerfuffle. Despite public outcry and court proceedings, the government gave it the nod. Cue the great snail migration – thousands were relocated, and a captive breeding programme was launched faster than you could say “slugfest.”
There were hiccups, of course – in 2011, a refrigeration mishap tragically claimed 800 of the snails, proving once and for all that even gastropods are no match for dodgy white goods. But despite the occasional cock-up, the programme has given this oddball species a fighting chance.
Today, over 1,800 snails are thriving in captivity, alongside more than 2,000 eggs. Some new wild colonies have been set up, but they’re under close watch – no one wants to see this lot vanish like last week’s lasagne.
So, the next time you think your job’s dull, spare a thought for the folks who spend their days filming snails. Because every now and then, they capture something utterly bananas – like a golf-ball-sized slug-chomper laying a neck egg on a Tuesday afternoon.
Bloomin’ marvellous, if you ask me.
Sources : The Guardian
What's Your Reaction?
