On observing sleep patterns in zebrafish: Well, it hardly sounds like the most objectionable kind of experimentation with animals.  Still, we should notice that the fish's sleep patterns are intruded upon, perhaps painfully, with electric shocks.

On Crittercam: Yes, I too have doubts that the animals with these cameras stuck to them are behaving totally naturally.  On the other hand, I guess any data collected this way, showing their movements, diving, feeding, socializing and so forth, are valuable enough.

On beaked whales and sonar: $6 million will not go very far, but it is better than nothing.  It will be very well spent, if we learn a bit more about at least some of the mysterious Ziphiidae, and if the Navy can be persuaded to stop injuring and endangering marine animals with their abuse of sonar.  The Washington Post article is fascinating:

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There are an estimated 22 species of the small whales in the family Ziphiidae. They are probably the least-known family of large mammals: Several species were only described in the last two decades. Beaked whales were once thought to be rare, but now researchers believe there are hundreds of thousands.
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Mark Carwardine, in "Whales, Dolphins and Porpoises" (2nd ed. 2002), in the Smithsonian Handbooks series, writes, "So far, 21 species are known (Bahamonde's beaked whale Mesoplodon bahamondi, known only from skull fragments off Chile, is the most recent discovery)."  And he includes an "unidentified" beaked whale, of the genus Mesoplodon, from the Pacific off South and Central America, that had not yet been given a species name; perhaps by now it has.

Of course we all can hope that the researchers are right, and there really are "hundreds of thousands" of beaked whales.  But also we should ask, why in the world do those researchers think that?

On curious things that turn up in the waters of the New York metropolitan area: How else could a gun have ended up in the water, except that it got chucked there by someone who did not want to be incriminated for having it?

There is an urban legend, that once, when the Princeton crew came up to race Columbia -- in the Harlem River, which separates northern Manhattan from the South Bronx -- , their shell went aground on a barely submerged refrigerator, and they had to be rescued.  The legend is delicious for no less than two reasons: it offers another quaint instance of the self-inflicted grittiness that New Yorkers must endure; and, it is especially wonderful and appropriate that this particular mishap happened to Princetonians.

Chickens deserve our true friendship! So do fish! So do other sentient beings! Let us learn to be kind.