Take for example the horseshoe crab, he scooped up from a bucket of creatures during one of the Institutes free aquarium feeding sessions held at the Diller Coastal Education Building, in Stone Harbor on a Tuesday afternoon earlier this spring.

At first glance, the prehistoric creatures look like giant sea roaches with menacing swords slashing out from beneath their greenish brown shells – definitely a sea creature to avoid, you’d think. But look again, Geiger urges.

“They are weird looking,” he concedes to the small group of children, who cringe at the creature’s odd appearance. “But they are actually really friendly.” Geiger then explains that the creature’s “sword,” which many believe to be a stinger, is actually a tail that helps it to navigate and to flip itself over when a rough wave turns it on its back. It won’t hurt you if you try to help it turn over on the beach – just don’t grab its fragile tail, he says. “It can break pretty easily,” he said.

In Geiger’s calm hands, the ominous-looking crab soon becomes approachable, almost like an affable puppy, who wiggles and wags its tail in greeting. Horseshoe crabs have ten eyes and a bristly mouth that “feels like a toothbrush,” Geiger says, before turning it over to let his young audience see and feel it for themselves.

“Do you want to touch?” he asks, and amazingly, they do. You get seven years good luck if you kiss one, he coaxes, and soon, nearly all of the budding naturalists are puckering up to for a salty kiss.

The horseshoe crab has roamed the wetlands for millions of years, and it is an important species. Its blood is harvested for a protein called Limulus Amebocyte Lysate (LAL) that is widely used for medical research, and its eggs feed other wildlife like the Red Knots, sea birds that rest in Cape May County during their annual migration from South America to the Arctic. An illuminated map at the Wetland’s Institute shows the birds’ route.

“All the animals we keep here you can find right out here in the salt marsh and in the bay,” Geiger says. “These are all New Jersey animals,” and the variety is amazing. More than a dozen creatures - scuttling crabs, a prickly sea urchin, and its cousin, the sticky sea star – are pulled from the water by Geiger, who offers his guests a chance to feed them and meet them face-to-face. That is, once they learn where the animal’s faces are.

The diamond back terrapin named Pretty Girl snaps a small fish from Geiger’s hand. It’s a silverside, he explains, just like the ones that will swim in huge schools offshore all summer long. A bucket of palm-sized baby terrapins, hatched from eggs on the Institute’s grounds, will soon grow to feast on the tiny fiddler crabs that will crawl around in the wetland’s mud.

Only the fish and the aquarium’s ephemeral octopus, Lois, remain behind glass in their tanks during the feeding. But Lois, who dances gracefully around in her home knows she has guests, Geiger explains. Octopuses have great eyesight, and they can see outside her tank at least as well as visitors can see in.

Plus, she “is as smart as a cat,” Geiger says, and one of his challenges as aquarist is to find ways to keep her from getting bored. To prove his point, he encloses a doomed crab in a plastic jar and drops it into the water of the octopus’s tank. She swims slowly to the surface to grab her lunch and plays possessively with the jar like a petulant two-year old, who does not intend to share. Within minutes, the jar is opened, and her audience gasps as the crab disappears into the flowing apron that skirts her eight purposeful legs. In truth, it’s hard to imagine any creature being bored around here for long.

You can get a sneak peak of an aquarium feedings on video at cmcherald.com. They are held at the Wetlands Institute, 1075 Stone Harbor Blvd., Stone Harbor, Tuesdays and Thursdays at 3:30 p.m. They are free to members and included in the price of admission. For more information, call 609-368-1211.

Photos by MAUREEN CAWLEY