Phew. Okay I am so confused after following this thread for days. To clear my mind I thought we should skip the Pamphobeteus and get more Xenesthis species, at least the females have more distinct coloration on their carapase, and the males are at least full of vibrant colours. Lets hope and pray that Taki will have some slings available for the hobby SOON.

Stanley A. Schultz wrote: Snarf/Francois - Did you get my reply? Or was I simply typing to the cosmic ether?

I would love to hear what you have to say on this topic Stanley. I with Taki on this, when he says this genus is very confusing. I love Pamphos, but I'm a bit hesistant to lay out cold hard cash when I'm not 100% sure what I'm getting. Still, I'd do just about anything to get my hands on P. antinous and P. ultramarinus.

iclazion wrote: Phew. Okay I am so confused after following this thread for days.

Unfortunately, I don't think it's going to get any less confusing any time soon. Problem is, I really am hooked on these spiders. They get quite large, and they are striking to say the least. Even the "drab" females are quite beautiful.

Thank you Stan, I got your reply.


Francois -

First, I am not a taxonomist. In fact, I look down at taxonomists as people who really don't understand what they're doing. So, I can't help you with the ID of your beasts, although they're mighty fine looking tarantulas!

But having said that, I need to point out to you that those are NOT species names. Effectively, they're just common names!

Taxonomists attempt to pigeonhole different kinds of tarantulas into fixed, hypothetical stereotypes. And they give these stereotypes fancy Latinoid names to make them sound official. And, they call each stereotype a "species" as though it meant something special. Further, they try very hard to arrange these stereotypical species into some artificial hierarchy to help explain their presumed "relationship" one to another.

Thus, taxonomists have decreed that to be considered a species, a kind of organism must be studied and described in a certain broad fashion, it must be given a name that has never been used before for any other of the same type of organism (e.g., animal, plant, fungus, bacterium), and that name must have certain characteristics. It must be a two part name with the first part being the name of a relatively more general group of organisms one level higher than a species: a genus name. Then, the kind of organism must be given a species name. The first letter in the genus name is always capitalized, the other letters are always all lower case. The species part of the name is always all lower case (there are exceptions in other disciplines like botany). And, both names must be either italicized, or underlined if italics aren't possible. (Both apparently impossible in this posting!)

The notation used for the two kinds of tarantulas you are talking about doesn't fit any of that. It is a notation adopted by collectors, dealers, or enthusiasts when they DON'T KNOW WHAT SPECIES THEY'RE DEALING WITH!

For starters, they make a guess at the genus. Taxonomists have traded species between the genera (plural of genus): Eupalaestrus, Lasiodora, Lasiodorides, Pamphobeteus, Proshapalopus, and Vitalius for almost a century now. They will continue to do so until or unless they finally work out a better taxonomic system.

If the experts have trouble figuring it out or agreeing, enthusiasts getting into the fray will only cause more confusion.

So, it's entirely possible that somebody got the genus correct. But, there's always that lingering doubt that maybe they didn't know what they were doing.

And, "sp 'Platyomma'," and "sp 'Machalla'" don't mean squat. In taxonomic parlance, "sp" is an abbreviation of the word "species" and is used after a genus name to indicate some single, unknown, unidentified, or unspecified kind, e.g., Pamphoteus sp. Here, it's garbage. Using sp suggests that you don't know the species name, but using "Platyomma" suggests you do. In just two words you've contradicted yourself! For the record, if you meant more than one unknown, unidentified, or unspecified kind (i.e., plural species), the abbreviation is "spp."

And, the species "platyomma" at one time was considered a type of Pamphobeteus, but has been moved to the genus Vitalius for many years now. And, as such it is considered a "junior synonym" for V. wacketi. The name "platyomma" is obsolete and no longer used. Somebody's not paying attention to current events. Maybe for the last ten years or so!

And, I can't find any reference to "Machalla." It is probably a reference to some town or geological landmark. It certainly has nothing to do with a scientific name.

So, whoever attached those names to those tarantulas thought they might be in the genus Pamphobeteus, but couldn't or wouldn't (for whatever reason) figure out if they'd been allocated a pigeonhole in the taxonomic system. But to distinguish them from any other kind of (or anybody else's) Pamphobeteus in the industry, they conjured up some impressive looking common names. And, you really don't know what you have. They could be new species. They couldbe old, already described species. They could be Lasiodora or Vitalius instead.

And, the only way you can find out is to send two or three individuals to some COMPETENT (scarcer than hen's teeth!) taxonomist who must kill and dissect them in order to identify them.

The way this thing works among importers is that when they get a bunch of special treasures like these from South America (for instance), they keep them in their warehouses until they molt. The hope is that the females were bred before they were caught and shipped. If they drop one or more eggsacs, the dealer can make a killing on the babies. Essentially, it's free money!

Conscientious dealers will then send one or two of the adult females off to a taxonomist for identification. Sooner or later (And this is a big sticking point. What happens if your taxonomist is off on a two year sabbatical to Borneo? You sit and wait. But, don't hold your breath! When they get back they may have a lot more important things to do.) they may get a note in the mail giving them a probable species name, or telling them "the material was inadequate or reference specimens were unavailable, etc., etc., etc., and no determination could be made. But, thank you very much for the specimens. We'll keep them in our museum collection for future reference."

Not so conscientious dealers may merely sell the non-productive females or those that have made eggsacs and molted for the cash. Ultimately, come Hell or high water, the rent must be paid. Groceries must be bought. Etc.

There are two realistic ways of finding out what they are:

1> If you can locate a male with the same common name, and you can arrange a breeding when that male matures, perhaps you can send off a few of the babies, after they've attained some size, for identification. But, maybe you've just hybridized two kinds of tarantulas, and terminally screwed up their identification. You can never tell for sure.

2> When the females finally die you can immediately preserve them in 100% grain neutral spirits (pure, unflavored, drinking alcohol) before they begin to putrefy, and send their carcasses off to a taxonomist for identification.

And, perhaps receive the same sort of note.

Hope I didn't ruin your whole day. Best of luck.

snarf wrote: Thank you Stan, I got your reply.

...

Glad you posted my reply on the forum. Thanks.

Shane Visser wrote: Tried to handle my +8cm P. sp machalla last night. ...

Eight centimeters? What in He** are you ever going to do when it reaches 8 INCHES (~20 CM)?

Shane Visser wrote: The T was having none of that. Some impressive threat displays.

Do you guys handle your pamphos?

We handled ours all the time. Pussy cats!

And, next to the emilia, they were always our favorites at shows and meetings. Big and showy, and docile as kittens. I can't even estimate the number of seven and eight year old kids, not to mention their parents, that became confirmed tarantula lovers because of Marguerite and those Pamphos!

There's something about a little old grandmother with this HUGE spider in her hand... You just couldn't refuse to touch and handle!

"Resistance is futile!"

If any of you are having trouble handling a Pampho it's because you're not doing it right!

1> Until both you and the tarantula are accustomed to handling, you need to work quickly enough so the tarantula doesn't have a chance to whirl around and confront you. But, even in a worse case scenario, baring your own urinary incontinence, this should only require three or four attempts over a couple of days. As soon as both you and the tarantula start reading from the same page (i.e., get used to handling - learn what to expect) it's a piece of cake.

2> With the tarantula facing away from you, reach down and pick the WHOLE ANIMAL up like you were picking up a tennis ball or large egg. Your index finger should come down from above, over the chelicerae. Your thumb should go along one side of the animal to confine that side's legs. Your fingers should go along the other side of the animal to restrict those legs. All in one smooth, gentle motion.

3> Maintaining a relatively firm grip without harming the tarantula, turn your hand over so the tarantula rests upside down in the palm of your hand. Your thumb and fingers prevent the tarantula from struggling free. (Remember that they have to rely on hydraulic pressure to extend their legs, and your grip is several times too strong for them to overcome.) Your index finger is over their chelicerae. (But, because your finger comes down over the top of them, it's nowhere near the fangs. In fact, it doesn't make any difference if the fangs are extended or not, it still can't bite you because they're articulated in such a way as to completely prevent it.)

4> Pet its tummy gently. It'll settle down so nicely you could almost lay it on its back on the table and it won't move. (In fact, I've done this!)

By about the third or fourth time you do this the tarantula will almost voluntarily roll over on its back to get its tummy rubbed! And the beauty of the whole operation is that the tarantula is cupped in your hand safely. There's little or no way it can struggle free and drop to its death on the floor. And, there's no way it can bite, regardless how hard it might try. But, once you both learn the technique, your Pamphos will never even TRY to bite!

Pussy cats! They almost purr!

Now, tell me. Are you really going to let an 84+ year old, great-great-grandmother make a monkey out of you? :blush: Really? :laugh:

(Sorry. This was so funny I had to come down on you this hard. Can we still be friends?)