Tag: behavior

Defining Behaviors

Clara Bird, PhD Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

When I started working on my thesis, I anticipated many challenges related to studying the behavioral ecology of gray whales. From processing five-plus years of drone footage to data analysis, there has been no shortage of anticipated and unexpected issues. I recently hit an unexpected challenge when I started video processing that piqued my interest. As I’ve discussed in a previous blog, ethograms are lists of defined behaviors that help us properly and consistently collect data in a standardized approach. Ethograms form a crucial foundation of any behavior study as the behaviors defined ultimately affect what questions can be asked and what patterns are detected. Since I am working off of the thorough ethogram of Oregon gray whales from Torres et al. (2018), I had not given much thought to the process of adding behaviors to the ethogram. But, while processing the first chunk of drone videos, I noticed some behaviors that were not in the original ethogram and struggled to decide whether or not to add them. I learned that ethogram development can lead down several rabbit holes. The instinct to try and identify every movement is strong but dangerous. Every minute movement does not necessarily need to be included and it’s important to remember the ultimate goal of the analysis to avoid getting bogged down.

Fundamental behavior questions cannot be answered without ethograms. For example, Baker et al. (2017) developed an ethogram for bottlenose dolphins in Ireland in order to conduct an initial quantitative behavior analysis. They did so by reviewing published ethograms for bottlenose dolphins, consulting with multiple experts, and revising the ethogram throughout the study. They then used their data to test inter-observer variability, calculate activity budgets, and analyze how the activity budgets varied across space and time.

Howe et al. (2015) also developed an ethogram in order to conduct quantitative behavior analyses. Their goals were to use the ethogram and subsequent analyses to better understand the behavior of beluga whales in Cook Inlet, AK, USA and to inform conservation. They started by writing down all behaviors they observed in the field, then they consolidated their notes into a formal ethogram that they used and refined during subsequent field seasons. They used their data to analyze how the frequencies of different behaviors varied throughout the study area at different times. This study served as an initial analysis investigating the effect of anthropogenic disturbance and was refined in future studies.

My research is similarly geared towards understanding behavior patterns to ultimately inform conservation. The primary questions of my thesis involve individual specialization, patterns of behavior across space, the relationship between behavior and body condition, and social behavior (check out this blog to learn more). While deciding what behaviors to add to my ethogram I’ve had to remind myself of these main questions and the bigger picture. The drone footage lets us see so much detail that it’s tempting to try to define every movement we can observe. One rabbit hole I’ve had to avoid a few times is locomotion. From the footage, it is possible to document fluke beats and pectoral fin strokes. While it could be interesting to investigate how different whales move in different ways, it could easily become a complicated mess of classifying different movements and take me deep into the world of whale locomotion. Talking through what that work would look like reminded me that we cannot answer every question and trying to assess all exciting side projects can cause us to lose focus on the main questions.

While I avoided going down the locomotion rabbit hole, there were some new behaviors that I did add to my ethogram. I’ll illustrate the process with the examples of two new behaviors I recently added: fluke swish and pass under (Clips 1 and 2). Clip 1 shows a whale rapidly moving its fluke to the side. I chose to add fluke swish because it’s such a distinct movement and I’m curious to see if there’s a pattern across space, time, individual, or nearby human activity that might explain its function. Clip 2 shows a calf passing under its mom.  It’s not nursing because the calf doesn’t spend time under its mom, it just crosses underneath her. The calf pass under behavior could be a type of mom-calf tactile interaction. Analyzing how the frequency of this behavior changes over time could show how a calf’s dependency on its mom changes over as it ages.

In defining these behaviors, I had to consider how many different variations of this behavior would be included in the definition. This process involves considering at what point a variation of that behavior could serve a different function, even without knowing the function of the original behavior. For fluke swish this process involved deciding to only count a behavior as a fluke swish if it was a big, fast movement. A small and slow movement of the fluke a little to the side could serve a different function, such as turning, or be a random movement.

Clip 1: Fluke swish behavior (Video filmed under NOAA/NMFS research permit #16111​​ by certified drone pilot Todd Chandler).
Clip 2: Pass under behavior (Video filmed under NOAA/NMFS research permit #16111​​ by certified drone pilot Todd Chandler).

The next step involved deciding if the behavior would be a ‘state’ or ‘point’ event. A state event is a behavior with a start and stop moment; a point event is instantaneous and assigned to just a point in time. I would categorize a behavior as a state event if I was interested in questions about its duration. For example, I could ask “what percentage of the total observation time was spent in a certain behavior state?” A point event would be a behavior where duration is not applicable, but I could ask a question like “Did whale 1 perform more point event A than whale 2?”. Both fluke swish and pass under are point events because they only happen for an instant. In a pass under the calf is passing under its mom for just a brief point in time, making it a point event. The final step was to name the behavior. As I discussed in this blog, the name of the behavior does not matter as much as the definition but it is important that the name is clear and descriptive. We chose the name fluke swish because the fluke rapidly moves from side to side and pass under because the calf crosses under its mom.

Frankly, in the beginning, I was a bit overwhelmed by the realization that the content of my ethogram would ultimately control the questions I could answer. I could not help but worry that after processing all the videos, I would end up regretting not defining more behaviors. However, after reading some of the literature, chatting with Leigh, and reviewing the initial chunk of videos several times, I am more confidence in my judgment and my ethogram. I have accepted the fact that I can’t anticipate everything, and I am confident that the behaviors I need to answer my research questions are included. The process of reviewing and updating my ethogram has been a rewarding challenge that resulted in a valuable lesson that I will take with me for the rest of my career.

References

Baker, I., O’Brien, J., McHugh, K., & Berrow, S. (2017). An ethogram for bottlenose dolphins (Tursiops truncatus) in the Shannon Estuary, Ireland. Aquatic Mammals, 43(6), 594–613. https://doi.org/10.1578/AM.43.6.2017.594

Howe, M., Castellote, M., Garner, C., McKee, P., Small, R. J., & Hobbs, R. (2015). Beluga, Delphinapterus leucas, ethogram: A tool for cook inlet beluga conservation? Marine Fisheries Review, 77(1), 32–40. https://doi.org/10.7755/MFR.77.1.3

Torres, L. G., Nieukirk, S. L., Lemos, L., & Chandler, T. E. (2018). Drone up! Quantifying whale behavior from a new perspective improves observational capacity. Frontiers in Marine Science, 5(SEP). https://doi.org/10.3389/fmars.2018.00319

Are there picky eaters in the PCFG?

Clara Bird, PhD Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

As anyone who has ever been, or raised, a picky eater knows, humans have a wide range of food preferences. The diversity of available cuisines is a testament to the fact that we have individual food preferences. While taste is certainly a primary influence, nutritional benefits and accessibility are other major factors that affect our eating choices. But we are not the only species to have food preferences. In cetacean research, it is common to study the prey types consumed by a population as a whole. Narrowing these prey preferences down to the individual level is rare. While the individual component is challenging to study and to incorporate into population models, it is important to consider what the effects of individual foraging specialization might be.

To understand the role and drivers of individual specialization in population ecology, it is important to first understand the concepts of niche variation and partitioning. An animal’s ecological niche describes its role in the ecosystem it inhabits (Hutchinson, 1957). A niche is multidimensional, with dimensions for different environmental conditions and resources that a species requires. One focus of my research pertains to the dimensions of the niche related to foraging. As discussed in a previous blog, niche partitioning occurs when ecological space is shared between competitors through access to resources varies across different dimensions such as prey type, foraging location, and time of day when foraging takes place. Niche partitioning is usually discussed on the scale of different species coexisting in an ecosystem. Pianka’s theory stating that niche partitioning will increase as prey availability decreases uses competing lizard species as the example (Pianka, 1974). Typically, niche partitioning theory considers inter-specific competition (competition between species), but niche partitioning can take place within a species in response to intra-specific competition (competition between individuals of the same species) through individual niche variation.

A species that consumes a multitude of prey types is considered a generalist while one with a specific prey type is considered a specialist. Gray whales are considered generalists (Nerini, 1984). However, we do not know if each individual gray whale is a generalist or if the generalist population is actually composed of individual specialists with different preferences. One way to test for the presence of individual specialization is to compare the niche width of the population to the niche width of each individual (Figure 1, Bolnick et al., 2003).  For example, if a population eats five different types of prey and each individual consumed those prey types, those individuals would be generalists. However, if each individual only consumed one of the prey types, then those individuals would be specialists within a generalist population.

Figure 1. Figure from Bolnick et al. 2003. The thick curve represents the total niche of the population and the thin curves represent individual niches. Note that in both panels the population has the same total niche. In panel A, the individual curves overlap and are all pretty wide. These curves represent individual generalists that make up a generalist population. In panel B, the thin curves are narrower and do not overlap as much as those in panel A. These curves represent individual specialists that make up a generalist population.

If individual specialization is present in a population the natural follow-up question is why? To answer this, we look for common characteristics between the individuals that are similarly specialized. What do all the individuals that feed on the same prey type have in common? Common characterizations that may be found include age, sex, or distinct morphology (such as different beak or body shapes) (Bolnick et al., 2003).

Woo et al. (2008) studied individual specialization in Brünnich’s guillemot, a generalist sea bird species, using diet and tagging data. They found individual specialization in both diet (prey type) and behavior (dive depth, shape, and flight time). Specialization occurred across multiple timescales but was higher over short-time scales. The authors found that it was more common for an individual to specialize in a prey-type/foraging tactic for a few days than for that specialization to continue across years, although a few individuals were specialists for the full 15-year period of the study. Based on reproductive success of the studies birds, the authors concluded that the generalist and specialist strategies were largely equivalent in terms of fitness and survival. The authors searched for common characteristics in the individuals with similar specialization and they found that the differences between sexes or age classes were so small that neither grouping explained the observed individual specialization. This is an interesting result because it suggests that there is some missing attribute, that of the authors did not examine, that might explain why individual specialists were present in the population.

Hoelzel et al. (1989) studied minke whale foraging specialization by observing the foraging behaviors of 23 minke whales over five years from a small boat. They identified two foraging tactics: lunge feeding and bird-associated feeding. Lunge feeding involved lunging up through the water with an open mouth to engulf a group of fish, while bird-associated feeding took advantage of a group of fish being preyed on by sea birds to attack the fish from below while they were already being attacked from above. They found that nine individuals used lunge feeding, and of those nine, six whales used this tactic exclusively. Five of those six whales were observed in at least two years. Seventeen whales were observed using bird-associated feeding, 14 exclusively. Of those 14, eight were observed in at least two years. Interestingly, like Woo et al. (2008), this study did not find any associations between foraging tactic use and sex, age, or size of whale. Through a comparison of dive durations and feeding rates, they hypothesized that lunge feeding was more energetically costly but resulted in more food, while bird-associated feeding was energetically cheaper but had a lower capture rate. This result means that these two strategies might have the similar energetic payoffs.

Both of these studies are examples of questions that I am excited to ask using our data on the PCFG gray whales feeding off the Oregon coast (especially after doing the research for this blog). We have excellent individual-specific data to address questions of specialization because the field teams for  this project always carefully link observed behaviors with individual whale ID.  Using these data, I am curious to find out if the whales in our study group are individual specialists or generalists (or some combination of the two). I am also interested in relating specific tactics to their energetic costs and benefits in order to assess the payoffs of each foraging tactic. I then hope to combine the results of both analyses to assess the payoffs of each individual whale’s strategy.

Figure 2. Example images of two foraging tactics, side swimming (left) and headstanding (right). Images captured under NOAA/NMFS permit #21678.

Studying individual specialization is important for conservation. Consider the earlier example of a generalist population that consumes five prey items but is composed of individual specialists. If the presence of individual specialization is not accounted for in management plans, then regulations may protect certain prey types or foraging tactics/areas of the whales and not others. Such a management plan could be a dangerous outcome for the whale population because only parts of the population would be protected, while other specialists are at risk, thus potentially losing genetic diversity, cultural behaviors, and ecological resilience in the population as a whole. A plan designed to maximize protection for all the specialists would be better for the population because populations with increased ecological resilience are more likely to persist through periods of rapid environmental change. Furthermore, understanding individual specialization could help us better predict how a population might be affected by environmental change. Environmental change does not affect all prey species in the same way. An individual specialization study could help identify which whales might be most affected by predicted environmental changes. Therefore, in addition to being a fascinating and exciting research question, it is important to test for individual specialization in order to improve management and our overall understanding of the PCFG gray whale population.

References

Bolnick, D. I., Svanbäck, R., Fordyce, J. A., Yang, L. H., Davis, J. M., Hulsey, C. D., & Forister, M. L. (2003). The ecology of individuals: Incidence and implications of individual specialization. American Naturalist, 161(1), 1–28. https://doi.org/10.1086/343878

Hoelzel, A. R., Dorsey, E. M., & Stern, S. J. (1989). The foraging specializations of individual minke whales. Animal Behaviour, 38(5), 786–794. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0003-3472(89)80111-3

Hutchinson, G. E. (1957). Concluding Remarks. Cold Spring Harbor Symposia on Quantitative Biology, 22(0), 415–427. https://doi.org/10.1101/sqb.1957.022.01.039

Nerini, M. (1984). A Review of Gray Whale Feeding Ecology. In The Gray Whale: Eschrichtius Robustus (pp. 423–450). Elsevier Inc. https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-0-08-092372-7.50024-8

Pianka, E. R. (1974). Niche Overlap and Diffuse Competition. 71(5), 2141–2145.

Woo, K. J., Elliott, K. H., Davidson, M., Gaston, A. J., & Davoren, G. K. (2008). Individual specialization in diet by a generalist marine predator reflects specialization in foraging behaviour. Journal of Animal Ecology, 77(6), 1082–1091. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1365-2656.2008.01429.x

Connecting Research Questions

Clara Bird, Masters Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

The field season can be quite a hectic time of year. Between long days out on the water, trouble-shooting technology issues, organizing/processing the data as it comes in, and keeping up with our other projects/responsibilities, it can be quite overwhelming and exhausting.

But despite all of that, it’s an incredible and exciting time of year. Outside of the field season, we spend most of our time staring at our computers analyzing the data that we spend a relatively short amount of time collecting. When going through that process it can be easy to lose sight of why we do what we do, and to feel disconnected from the species we are studying. Oftentimes the analysis problems we encounter involve more hours of digging through coding discussion boards than learning about the animals themselves. So, as busy as it is, I find that the field season can be pretty inspiring. I have recently been looking through our most recent drone footage of gray whales and feeling renewed excitement for my thesis.

At the moment, my thesis has four central questions: (1) Are there associations between habitat type and gray whale foraging tactic? (2) Is there evidence of individualization? (3) What is the relationship between behavior and body condition? (4) Do we see evidence of learning in the behavior of mom and calf pairs? As I’ve been organizing my thoughts, what’s become quite clear is how interconnected these questions are. So, I thought I’d take this blog to describe the potential relationships.

Let’s start with the first question: are there associations between habitat types and gray whale foraging tactics? This question is central because it relates foraging behavior to habitat, which is ultimately associated with prey. This relationship is the foundation of all other questions involving foraging tactics because food is necessary for the whales to have the energy and nutrients they need to survive. It’s reasonable to think that the whales are flexible and use different foraging tactics to eat different prey that live in different habitats. But, if different prey types have different nutritional value (this is something that Lisa is studying right now; check out the COZI project to learn more), then not all whales may be getting the same nutrients.

The next question relates to the first question but is not necessarily dependent on it. It’s the question of individualization, a topic Lisa also explored in a past blog. Within our Oregon field sites we have documented a variety of gray whale foraging tactics (Torres et al. 2018; Video 1) but we do not know if all gray whales use all the tactics or if different individuals only use certain tactics. While I think it’s unlikely that one whale only uses one tactic all the time, I think we could see an individual use one tactic more often than the others. I reason that there could be two reasons for this pattern. First, it could be a response to resource availability; certain tactics are more efficient than others, this could be because the tactic involves capturing the more nutritious prey or because the behavior is less energetically demanding. Second, foraging tactics are socially learned as calves from their mothers, and hence individuals use those learned tactics more frequently. This pattern of maternally inherited foraging tactics has been documented in other marine mammals (Mann and Sargeant 2009; Estes et al. 2003). These questions between foraging tactic, habitat and individualization also tie into the remaining two questions.

My third question is about the relationship between behavior and body condition. As I’ve discussed in a previous blog, I am interested in assessing the relative energetic costs and benefits of the different foraging tactics. Is one foraging tactic more cost-effective than another (less energy out per energy in)? Ever since our lab’s cetacean behavioral ecology class, I’ve been thinking about how my work relates to niche partitioning theory (Pianka 1974).This theory states that when there is low prey availability, niche partitioning will increase. Niche partitioning can occur across several different dimensions: for instance, prey type, foraging location, and time of day when active. If gray whales partition across the prey type dimension, then different whales would feed on different kinds of prey. If whales partition resources across the foraging location dimension, individuals would feed in different areas. Lastly, if whales partition resources across the time axis, individuals would feed at different times of day. Using different foraging tactics to feed on different prey would be an example of partitioning across the prey type dimension. If there is a more preferable prey type, then maybe in years of high prey availability, we would see most of the gray whales using the same tactics to feed on the same prey type. However, in years of low prey availability we might expect to see a greater variety of foraging tactics being used. The question then becomes, does any whale end up using the less beneficial foraging tactic? If so, which whales use the less beneficial tactic? Do the same individuals always switch to the less beneficial tactic? Is there a common characteristic among the individuals that switched, like sex, age, size, or reproductive status? Lemos et al. (2020) hypothesized that the decline in body condition observed from 2016 to 2017 might be a carryover effect from low prey availability in 2016. Could it be that the whales that use the less beneficial tactic exhibit poor body condition the following year?

My fourth, and final, question asks if foraging tactics are passed down from moms to their calves. We have some footage of a mom foraging with her calf nearby, and occasionally it looks like the calf could be copying its mother. Reviewing this footage spiked my interest in seeing if there are similarities between the behavior tactics used by moms and those used by their calves after they have been weaned. While this question clearly relates to the question of individualization, it is also related to body condition: what if the foraging tactics used by the mom is influenced by her body condition at the time?

I hope to answer some of these fascinating questions using the data we have collected during our long field days over the past 6 years. In all likelihood, the story that comes together during my thesis research will be different from what I envision now and will likely lead to more questions. That being said, I’m excited to see how the story unfolds and I look forward to sharing the evolving ideas and plot lines with all of you.

References

Estes, J A, M L Riedman, M M Staedler, M T Tinker, and B E Lyon. 2003. “Individual Variation in Prey Selection by Sea Otters: Patterns, Causes and Implications.” Source: Journal of Animal Ecology. Vol. 72.

Mann, Janet, and Brooke Sargeant. 2009. “ Like Mother, like Calf: The Ontogeny of Foraging Traditions in Wild Indian Ocean Bottlenose Dolphins ( Tursiops Sp.) .” In The Biology of Traditions, 236–66. Cambridge University Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/cbo9780511584022.010.

Pianka, Eric R. 1974. “Niche Overlap and Diffuse Competition” 71 (5): 2141–45.

Soledade Lemos, Leila, Jonathan D Burnett, Todd E Chandler, James L Sumich, and Leigh G. Torres. 2020. “Intra‐ and Inter‐annual Variation in Gray Whale Body Condition on a Foraging Ground.” Ecosphere 11 (4). https://doi.org/10.1002/ecs2.3094.

Torres, Leigh G., Sharon L. Nieukirk, Leila Lemos, and Todd E. Chandler. 2018. “Drone up! Quantifying Whale Behavior from a New Perspective Improves Observational Capacity.” Frontiers in Marine Science 5 (SEP). https://doi.org/10.3389/fmars.2018.00319.

Milling around in definitions

Clara Bird, Masters Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

A big part of graduate school involves extensive reading to learn about the previous research conducted in the field you are joining and the embedded foundational theories. A firm understanding of this background literature is needed in order to establish where your research fits. Science is a constructive process; to advance our disciplines we must recognize and build upon previous work. Hence, I’ve been reading up on the central topic of my thesis: behavioral ecology. It is equally important to study the methods used in these studies as to understand the findings. As discussed in a previous blog, ethograms are a central component of the methodology for studying behavior. Ethograms are lists of defined behaviors that help us properly and consistently collect data in a standardized approach. It is especially important in a project that spans years to know that the data collected at the beginning was collected in the same way as the data collected at the end of the project.

While ethograms and standardized methods are commonly used within a study, I’ve noticed from reading through studies on cetaceans, a lack of standardization across studies. Not all behaviors that are named the same way have matching definitions, and not all behaviors with similar definitions have matching names. Of all the behaviors, “milling” may be the least standardized.

While milling is not in our ethogram (Leigh believes this term is a “cheat” for when behavior is actually “unknown”), we occasionally use “milling” in the field to describe when the gray whales are swimming around in an area, not foraging, but not in any other primary behavior state (travel, social, or rest). Sometimes we use when we think the whale may be searching, but we aren’t 100% sure yet. A recent conversation during a lab meeting on the confusing nature of the term “milling” inspired me to dig into the literature for this blog. I searched through the papers I’ve saved for my literature review and found 18 papers that used the term milling. It was fascinating to read how variably the term has been defined and used.

When milling was defined in these papers, it was most commonly described as numerous directional changes in movement within a restricted area 1–8. Milling often co-occurred with other behavior states. Five of these eight studies described milling as co-occurring with foraging behavior 3–6,8. In one case, milling was associated with foraging and slow movement 8. While another study described milling as passive, slow, nondirectional movement 9.

Eight studies used the term milling without defining the behavior 10–17. Of these, five described milling as being associated with other behavior states. Three studies described milling as co-occurring with foraging 10,14,16, one said that it co-occurred with social behavior 13, and another described milling as being associated with resting/slow movement 12.

In addition to this variety of definitions and behavior associations, there were also inconsistencies with the placement of “milling” within ethograms. In nine studies, milling was listed as a primary state 1,2,4,7–9,15,17,18. But, in two studies that mentioned milling and used an ethogram, milling was not included in the ethogram 6,14.

Diving into the associations between milling and foraging reveal how varied the use of milling has been within the cetacean literature. For example, two studies simply described milling as occurring near foraging in time 10,16. While another two studies explained that milling was applied in situations where there was evidence of feeding without feeding being directly observed 8,14. Bobkov et al. (2019) described milling as occurring between feeding cycles along with breathing. Lastly, two studies describe milling as a behavior within the foraging primary state 3,5, while another study described feeding as a behavior within milling 4.

It’s all rather confusing, huh? Across these studies, milling has been defined, mentioned without being defined, included in ethograms as a primary state, included in ethograms as a sub-behavior, and excluded from ethograms. Milling has also been associated with multiple primary behavior states (foraging, resting, and socializing). It has been described as both passive 9 and slow 12, and strong 16 and active 5.

It appears that milling is often used to describe behaviors that the observer cannot distinctly classify or describe its function. I have also struggled to define these times when a whale is in between behavior states; I often end up calling it “just being a whale”, which includes time spent breathing at the surface, or just swimming around.

As I’ve said above, Leigh thinks that this term is a “cheat” for when a behavior is actually “unknown”. I think we have trouble equating “milling” with “unknown” because it seems like “unknown” should refer to a behavior where we can’t quite tell what the whale is doing. However, during milling, we can see that the whale is swimming at the surface. But here’s the thing, while we can see what the whale is doing, the function of the behavior is still unknown. Instead of using an indistinct term, we should use a term that better describes the behavior.  If it’s swimming at the surface, name the behavior “swimming at the surface”. If we can’t tell what the whale is doing because we can’t quite see what it’s doing, then name the behavior “unknown-partially visible”. Instead of using vague terminology, we should use clear names for behaviors and embrace using the term “unknown”.

I am most certainly not criticizing these studies as they all provided valuable contributions and interesting results. The studies that asked questions about behavioral ecology defined milling. The term was mentioned without being defined in studies focused on other topics. So, defining behaviors mentioned was less important.

With this exploration into the use of “milling” in studies, I am not implying that all behavioral ecologists need to agree on the use of the same behavior terms. However, I have learned clear definitions are critical. This lesson is also important outside of behavioral ecology. Different labs, and different people, use different terms for the same things. As I dig into my thesis, I am keeping a list of terminology I use and how I define those terms, because as I learn more, my terminology evolves and changes. For example, at the beginning of my thesis I used “sub-behavior” to refer to behaviors within the primary state categories. But, now after chatting with Leigh and learning more, I’ve decided to use the term “tactic” instead as these are often processes or events that contribute to the broader behavior state. My running list of terminology helps me remember what I meant when I used a certain word, so that when I read my notes from three months ago, I can know what I meant.  Digging into the literature for this blog reminded me of the importance of clearly defining all terminology and never assuming that everyone uses the same term in the same way.

Check out these videos to see some of the behaviors we observe:

References

1.        Mallonee, J. S. Behaviour of gray whales (Eschrichtius robustus) summering off the northern California coast, from Patrick’s Point to Crescent City. Can. J. Zool. 69, 681–690 (1991).

2.        Clarke, J. T., Moore, S. E. & Ljungblad, D. K. Observations on gray whale (Eschrichtius robustus) utilization patterns in the northeastern Chukchi Sea. Can. J. Zool 67, (1988).

3.        Ingram, S. N., Walshe, L., Johnston, D. & Rogan, E. Habitat partitioning and the influence of benthic topography and oceanography on the distribution of fin and minke whales in the Bay of Fundy, Canada. J. Mar. Biol. Assoc. United Kingdom 87, 149–156 (2007).

4.        Lomac-MacNair, K. & Smultea, M. A. Blue Whale (Balaenoptera musculus) Behavior and Group Dynamics as Observed from an Aircraft off Southern California. Anim. Behav. Cogn. 3, 1–21 (2016).

5.        Lusseau, D., Bain, D. E., Williams, R. & Smith, J. C. Vessel traffic disrupts the foraging behavior of southern resident killer whales Orcinus orca. Endanger. Species Res. 6, 211–221 (2009).

6.        Bobkov, A. V., Vladimirov, V. A. & Vertyankin, V. V. Some features of the bottom activity of gray whales (Eschrichtius robustus) off the northeastern coast of Sakhalin Island. 1, 46–58 (2019).

7.        Howe, M. et al. Beluga, Delphinapterus leucas, ethogram: A tool for cook inlet beluga conservation? Mar. Fish. Rev. 77, 32–40 (2015).

8.        Clarke, J. T., Christman, C. L., Brower, A. A. & Ferguson, M. C. Distribution and Relative Abundance of Marine Mammals in the northeastern Chukchi and western Beaufort Seas, 2012. Annu. Report, OCS Study BOEM 117, 96349–98115 (2013).

9.        Barendse, J. & Best, P. B. Shore-based observations of seasonality, movements, and group behavior of southern right whales in a nonnursery area on the South African west coast. Mar. Mammal Sci. 30, 1358–1382 (2014).

10.      Le Boeuf, B. J., M., H. P.-C., R., J. U. & U., B. R. M. and F. O. High gray whale mortality and low recruitment in 1999: Potential causes and implications. (Eschrichtius robustus). J. Cetacean Res. Manag. 2, 85–99 (2000).

11.      Calambokidis, J. et al. Abundance, range and movements of a feeding aggregation of gray whales (Eschrictius robustus) from California to southeastern Alaska in 1998. J. Cetacean Res. Manag. 4, 267–276 (2002).

12.      Harvey, J. T. & Mate, B. R. Dive Characteristics and Movements of Radio-Tagged Gray Whales in San Ignacio Lagoon, Baja California Sur, Mexico. in The Gray Whale: Eschrichtius Robustus (eds. Jones, M. Lou, Folkens, P. A., Leatherwood, S. & Swartz, S. L.) 561–575 (Academic Press, 1984).

13.      Lagerquist, B. A. et al. Feeding home ranges of pacific coast feeding group gray whales. J. Wildl. Manage. 83, 925–937 (2019).

14.      Barrett-Lennard, L. G., Matkin, C. O., Durban, J. W., Saulitis, E. L. & Ellifrit, D. Predation on gray whales and prolonged feeding on submerged carcasses by transient killer whales at Unimak Island, Alaska. Mar. Ecol. Prog. Ser. 421, 229–241 (2011).

15.      Luksenburg, J. A. Prevalence of External Injuries in Small Cetaceans in Aruban Waters, Southern Caribbean. PLoS One 9, e88988 (2014).

16.      Findlay, K. P. et al. Humpback whale “super-groups” – A novel low-latitude feeding behaviour of Southern Hemisphere humpback whales (Megaptera novaeangliae) in the Benguela Upwelling System. PLoS One 12, e0172002 (2017).

17.      Villegas-Amtmann, S., Schwarz, L. K., Gailey, G., Sychenko, O. & Costa, D. P. East or west: The energetic cost of being a gray whale and the consequence of losing energy to disturbance. Endanger. Species Res. 34, 167–183 (2017).

18.      Brower, A. A., Ferguson, M. C., Schonberg, S. V., Jewett, S. C. & Clarke, J. T. Gray whale distribution relative to benthic invertebrate biomass and abundance: Northeastern Chukchi Sea 2009–2012. Deep. Res. Part II Top. Stud. Oceanogr. 144, 156–174 (2017).

The complex relationship between behavior and body condition

Clara Bird, Masters Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

Imagine that you are a wild foraging animal: In order to forage enough food to survive and be healthy you need to be healthy enough to move around to find and eat your food. Do you see the paradox? You need to be in good condition to forage, and you need to forage to be in good condition. This complex relationship between body condition and behavior is a central aspect of my thesis.

One of the great benefits of having drone data is that we can simultaneously collect data on the body condition of the whale and on its behavior. The GEMM lab has been measuring and monitoring the body condition of gray whales for several years (check out Leila’s blog on photogrammetry for a refresher on her research). However, there is not much research linking the body condition of whales to their behavior. Hence, I have expanded my background research beyond the marine world to looked for papers that tried to understand this connection between the two factors in non-cetaceans. The literature shows that there are examples of both, so let’s go through some case studies.

Ransom et al. (2010) studied the effect of a specific type of contraception on the behavior of a population of feral horses using a mixed model. Aside from looking at the effect of the treatment (a type of contraception), they also considered the effect of body condition. There was no difference in body condition between the treatment and control groups, however, they found that body condition was a strong predictor of feeding, resting, maintenance, and social behaviors. Females with better body condition spent less time foraging than females with poorer body condition. While it was not the main question of the study, these results provide a great example of taking into account the relationship between body condition and behavior when researching any disturbance effect.

While Ransom et al. (2010) did not find that body condition affected response to treatment, Beale and Monaghan (2004) found that body condition affected the response of seabirds to human disturbance. They altered the body condition of birds at different sites by providing extra food for several days leading up to a standardized disturbance. Then the authors recorded a set of response variables to a disturbance event, such as flush distance (the distance from the disturbance when the birds leave their location). Interestingly, they found that birds with better body condition responded earlier to the disturbance (i.e., when the disturbance was farther away) than birds with poorer body condition (Figure 1). The authors suggest that this was because individuals with better body condition could afford to respond sooner to a disturbance, while individuals with poorer body condition could not afford to stop foraging and move away, and therefore did not show a behavioral response. I emphasize behavioral response because it would have been interesting to monitor the vital rates of the birds during the experiment; maybe the birds’ heart rates increased even though they did not move away. This finding is important when evaluating disturbance effects and management approaches because it demonstrates the importance of considering body condition when evaluating impacts: animals that are in the worst condition, and therefore the individuals that are most vulnerable, may appear to be undisturbed when in reality they tolerate the disturbance because they cannot afford the energy or time to move away.

Figure 1.  Figure showing flush distance of birds that were fed (good body condition) and unfed (poor body condition).

These two studies are examples of body condition affecting behavior. However, a study on the effect of habitat deterioration on lizards showed that behavior can also affect body condition. To study this effect, Amo et al. (2007) compared the behavior and body condition of lizards in ski slopes to those in natural areas. They found that habitat deterioration led to an increased perceived risk of predation, which led to an increase in movement speed when crossing these deteriorated, “risky”, areas. In turn, this elevated movement cost led to a decrease in body condition (Figure 2). Hence, the lizard’s behavior affected their body condition.


Figure 2. Figure showing the difference in body condition of lizards in natural and deteriorated habitats.

Together, these case studies provide an interesting overview of the potential answers to the question: does body condition affect behavior or does behavior affect body condition? The answer is that the relationship can go both ways. Ransom et al. (2004) showed that regardless of the treatment, behavior of female horses differed between body conditions, indicating that regardless of a disturbance, body condition affects behavior. Beale and Monaghan (2004) demonstrated that seabird reactions to disturbance differed between body conditions, indicating that disturbance studies should take body condition into account. And, Amo et al. (2007) showed that disturbance affects behavior, which consequently affects body condition.

Looking at the results from these three studies, I can envision finding similar results in my gray whale research. I hypothesize that gray whale behavior varies by body condition in everyday circumstances and when the whale is disturbed. Yet, I also hypothesize that being disturbed will affect gray whale behavior and subsequently their body condition. Therefore, what I anticipate based on these studies is a circular relationship between behavior and body condition of gray whales: if an increase in perceived risk affects behavior and then body condition, maybe those affected individuals with poor body condition will respond differently to the disturbance. It is yet to be determined if a sequence like this could ever be detected, but I think that it is important to investigate.

Reading through these studies, I am ready and eager to start digging into these hypotheses with our data. I am especially excited that I will be able to perform this investigation on an individual level because we have identified the whales in each drone video. I am confident that this work will lead to some interesting and important results connecting behavior and health, thus opening avenues for further investigations to improve conservation studies.

References

Beale, Colin M, and Pat Monaghan. 2004. “Behavioural Responses to Human Disturbance: A Matter of Choice?” Animal Behaviour 68 (5): 1065–69. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.anbehav.2004.07.002.

Ransom, Jason I, Brian S Cade, and N. Thompson Hobbs. 2010. “Influences of Immunocontraception on Time Budgets, Social Behavior, and Body Condition in Feral Horses.” Applied Animal Behaviour Science 124 (1–2): 51–60. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.applanim.2010.01.015.

Amo, Luisa, Pilar López, and José Martín. 2007. “Habitat Deterioration Affects Body Condition of Lizards: A Behavioral Approach with Iberolacerta Cyreni Lizards Inhabiting Ski Resorts.” Biological Conservation 135 (1): 77–85. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.biocon.2006.09.020.

What are the ecological impacts of gray whale benthic feeding?

Clara Bird, Masters Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

Happy new year from the GEMM lab! Starting graduate school comes with a lot of learning. From skills, to learning about how much there is to learn, to learning about the system I will be studying in depth for the next few years. This last category has been the most exciting to me because digging into the literature on a system or a species always leads to the unearthing of some fascinating and surprising facts. So, for this blog I will write about one of the aspects of gray whale foraging that intrigues me most: benthic feeding and its impacts.

How do gray whales feed?

Gray whales are a unique species. Unlike other baleen whales, such as humpback and blue whales, gray whales regularly feed off the bottom of the ocean (Nerini, 1984). They roll to one side and swim along the bottom, they then suction up (by depressing their tongue) the sediment and prey, then the sediment and water is filtered out of the baleen. In fact, we use sediment streams, shown in Figure 1, as an indicator of benthic feeding behavior when analyzing drone footage (Torres et al. 2018).

Figure 1. Screenshot of drone video showing sediment streaming from mouth of a whale after benthic feeding. Video taken under NOAA/NMFS permit #21678

Locations of benthic feeding can be identified without directly observing a gray whale actively feeding because of the excavated pits that result from benthic feeding (Nerini 1984). These pits can be detected using side-scan sonar that is commonly used to map the seafloor. Oliver and Slattery (1985) found that the pits typically are from 2-20 m2. In some of the imagery, consecutive neighboring pits are visible, likely created by one whale in series during a feeding event. Figure 2 shows different arrangements of pits.

Figure 2. Different arrangements of pits created by feeding whales (Nerini 1984).

Aside from how fascinating the behavior is, benthic feeding is also interesting because it has a large impact on the environment. Coming from a background of studying baleen whales that primarily feed on krill, I had not really considered the potential impacts of whale foraging other than removing prey from the environment. However, when gray whales feed, they excavate large areas of the benthic substrate that disturb and impact the habitat.

The impacts of benthic feeding

Weitkamp et al. (1992) conducted a study on gray whale benthic foraging on ghost shrimp in Puget Sound, WA, USA. This study, conducted over two years, focused on measuring the impact of benthic foraging by its effect on prey abundance. They found that the standing stock of ghost shrimp within a recently excavated pit was two to five times less than that outside the pit, and that 3100 to 5700 grams of shrimp can be removed per pit. From aerial surveys they estimated that within one season feeding gray whales created between 2700 and 3200 pits. Using these values, they calculated that 55 to 79% of the standing stock of ghost shrimp was removed each season by foraging gray whales. Interestingly, they found that the shrimp biomass within an excavated pit recovered within about two months.

Oliver and Slattery (1985) also found a recovery period of about 2 months per pit in their study on the effect of gray whale benthic feeding on the prey community in the Bering Sea. They sampled prey within and outside feeding excavations, both actual whale pits and man-made, to test the response of the benthic community to the disturbance of a feeding event. They found that after the initial feeding disturbance, the excavated area was rapidly colonized by scavenging lysianassid amphipods, which are small (10 mm) crustaceans that typically eat dead organic material. These amphipods rushed in and attacked the organisms that were injured or dislodged by the whale feeding event, typically small crustaceans and polychaete worms. Within hours of the whale feeding event, these amphipods had dispersed and a different genre of scavenging lysianassid amphipods slowly invaded the excavated pit further and stayed much longer. After a few days or weeks these pits collected and trapped organic debris that attracted more colonists. Indeed, they found that the number of colonists remained elevated within the excavated areas for over two months.

Notably, these results on how the disturbance of gray whale benthic feeding changes sediment composition support the idea that this foraging behavior maintains the sand substrate and therefore helps to maintain balanced levels of benthic dwelling amphipods, their primary source of prey in this study area (Johnson and Nelson, 1984). Gray whales scour the sea floor when they feed and this process leads to the resuspension of lots of sediments and nutrients that would otherwise remain on the seafloor. Therefore, while this feeding may seem like a violent disturbance, it may in fact play a large role in benthic productivity (Johnson and Nelson, 1984; Oliver and Slattery, 1985).

These ecosystem impacts of gray whale benthic feeding I have described above demonstrate the various stages of invaders after a feeding disturbance, and the process of succession. Succession is the ecological process of how a community structure builds and grows. Primary succession is when the structure grows from truly nothing and secondary succession occurs after a disturbance, such as a fire. In secondary succession, there are typically pioneer species that first appear and then give way to other species and a more complex community eventually emerges. Succession is well documented in many terrestrial studies after disturbance events, and the processes of secondary succession is very important to community ecology and resilience.

Since gray whale benthic foraging does not impact an entire habitat all at once, the process is not perfectly comparable to secondary succession in terrestrial systems. Yet, when thinking about the smaller scale, another example of succession in the marine environment takes place at a whale fall. When a whale dies and sinks to the ocean floor, a small ecosystem emerges. Different organisms arrive at different stages to scavenge different parts of the carcass and a food web is created around it.

To me the impacts of gray whale benthic feeding are akin to both terrestrial disturbance events and whale falls. The excavation serves as a disturbance, and through secondary succession the habitat is refreshed via stages of different species colonization until the system eventually returns to the pre-disturbance levels. However, like a whale fall the feeding event leaves behind injured or displaced organisms that scavengers consume; in fact seabirds are known to take advantage of benthic invertebrates that are brought to the surface by a gray whale feeding event (Harrison, 1979). 

So much of our research is focused on questions about how the changing environment impacts our study species and not the other way around. This venture into the literature has provided me with an important reminder to think about flipping the question. I have enjoyed starting 2020 with a reminder of how cool gray whales are, and that while a disturbance can initially be thought of as negative, it may actually bring about important, and positive, change.

References

Nerini, Mary. 1984. “A Review of Gray Whale Feeding Ecology.” In The Gray Whale: Eschrichtius Robustus, 423–50. Elsevier Inc. https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-0-08-092372-7.50024-8.

Oliver, J. S., and P. N. Slattery. 1985. “Destruction and Opportunity on the Sea Floor: Effects of Gray Whale Feeding.” Ecology 66 (6): 1965–75. https://doi.org/10.2307/2937392.

Torres, Leigh G., Sharon L. Nieukirk, Leila Lemos, and Todd E. Chandler. 2018. “Drone up! Quantifying Whale Behavior from a New Perspective Improves Observational Capacity.” Frontiers in Marine Science 5 (SEP). https://doi.org/10.3389/fmars.2018.00319.

Weitkamp, Laurie A, Robert C Wissmar, Charles A Simenstad, Kurt L Fresh, and Jay G Odell. 1992. “Gray Whale Foraging on Ghost Shrimp (Callianassa Californiensis) in Littoral Sand Flats of Puget Sound, USA.” Canadian Journal of Zoology 70 (11): 2275–80. https://doi.org/10.1139/z92-304.

Johnson, Kirk R., and C. Hans Nelson. 1984. “Side-Scan Sonar Assessment of Gray Whale Feeding in the Bering Sea.” Science 225 (4667): 1150–52.

Harrison, Craig S. 1979. “The Association of Marine Birds and Feeding Gray Whales.” The Condor 81 (1): 93. https://doi.org/10.2307/1367866.

Classifying cetacean behavior

Clara Bird, Masters Student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

The GEMM lab recently completed its fourth field season studying gray whales along the Oregon coast. The 2019 field season was an especially exciting one, we collected rare footage of several interesting gray whale behaviors including GoPro footage of a gray whale feeding on the seafloor, drone footage of a gray whale breaching, and drone footage of surface feeding (check out our recently released highlight video here). For my master’s thesis, I’ll use the drone footage to analyze gray whale behavior and how it varies across space, time, and individual. But before I ask how behavior is related to other variables, I need to understand how to best classify the behaviors.

How do we collect data on behavior?

One of the most important tools in behavioral ecology is an ‘ethogram’. An ethogram is a list of defined behaviors that the researcher expects to see based on prior knowledge. It is important because it provides a standardized list of behaviors so the data can be properly analyzed. For example, without an ethogram, someone observing human behavior could say that their subject was walking on one occasion, but then say strolling on a different occasion when they actually meant walking. It is important to pre-determine how behaviors will be recorded so that data classification is consistent throughout the study. Table 1 provides a sample from the ethogram I use to analyze gray whale behavior. The specificity of the behaviors depends on how the data is collected.

Table 1. Sample from gray whale ethogram. Based on ethogram from Torres et al. (2018).

In marine mammal ecology, it is challenging to define specific behaviors because from the traditional viewpoint of a boat, we can only see what the individuals are doing at the surface. The most common method of collecting behavioral data is called a ‘focal follow’. In focal follows an individual, or group, is followed for a set period of time and its behavioral state is recorded at set intervals.  For example, a researcher might decide to follow an animal for an hour and record its behavioral state at each minute (Mann 1999). In some studies, they also recorded the location of the whale at each time point. When we use drones our methods are a little different; we collect behavioral data in the form of continuous 15-minute videos of the whale. While we collect data for a shorter amount of time than a typical focal follow, we can analyze the whole video and record what the whale was doing at each second with the added benefit of being able to review the video to ensure accuracy. Additionally, from the drone’s perspective, we can see what the whales are doing below the surface, which can dramatically improve our ability to identify and describe behaviors (Torres et al. 2018).

Categorizing Behaviors

In our ethogram, the behaviors are already categorized into primary states. Primary states are the broadest behavioral states, and in my study, they are foraging, traveling, socializing, and resting. We categorize the specific behaviors we observe in the drone videos into these categories because they are associated with the function of a behavior. While our categorization is based on prior knowledge and critical evaluation, this process can still be somewhat subjective.  Quantitative methods provide an objective interpretation of the behaviors that can confirm our broad categorization and provide insight into relationships between categories.  These methods include path characterization, cluster analysis, and sequence analysis.

Path characterization classifies behaviors using characteristics of their track line, this method is similar to the RST method that fellow GEMM lab graduate student Lisa Hildebrand described in a recent blog. Mayo and Marx (1990) analyzed the paths of surface foraging North Atlantic Right Whales and were able to classify the paths into primary states; they found that the path of a traveling whale was more linear and then paths of foraging or socializing whales that were more convoluted (Fig 1). I plan to analyze the drone GPS track line as a proxy for the whale’s track line to help distinguish between traveling and foraging in the cases where the 15-minute snapshot does not provide enough context.

Figure 1. Figure from Mayo and Marx (1990) showing different track lines symbolized by behavior category.

Cluster analysis looks for natural groupings in behavior. For example, Hastie et al. (2004) used cluster analysis to find that there were four natural groupings of bottlenose dolphin surface behaviors (Fig. 2). I am considering using this method to see if there are natural groupings of behaviors within the foraging primary state that might relate to different prey types or habitat. This process is analogous to breaking human foraging down into sub-categories like fishing or farming by looking for different foraging behaviors that typically occur together.

Figure 2. Figure from Hastie et al. (2004) showing the results of a hierarchical cluster analysis.

Lastly, sequence analysis also looks for groupings of behaviors but, unlike cluster analysis, it also uses the order in which behaviors occur. Slooten (1994) used this method to classify Hector’s dolphin surface behaviors and found that there were five classes of behaviors and certain behaviors connected the different categories (Fig. 3). This method is interesting because if there are certain behaviors that are consistently in the same order then that indicates that the order of events is important. What function does a specific sequence of behaviors provide that the behaviors out of that order do not?

Figure 3. Figure from Slooten (1994) showing the results of sequence analysis.

Think about harvesting fruits and vegetables from a garden: the order of how things are done matters and you might use different methods to harvest different kinds of produce. Without knowing what food was being harvested, these methods could detect that there were different harvesting methods for different fruits or veggies. By then studying when and where the different methods were used and by whom, we could gain insight into the different functions and patterns associated with the different behaviors. We might be able to detect that some methods were always used in certain habitat types or that different methods were consistently used at different times of the year.

Behavior classification methods such as these described provide a more refined and detailed analysis of categories that can then be used to identify patterns of gray whale behaviors. While our ultimate goal is to understand how gray whales will be affected by a changing environment, a comprehensive understanding of their current behavior serves as a baseline for that future study.

References

Burnett, J. D., Lemos, L., Barlow, D., Wing, M. G., Chandler, T., & Torres, L. G. (2019). Estimating morphometric attributes of baleen whales with photogrammetry from small UASs: A case study with blue and gray whales. Marine Mammal Science, 35(1), 108–139. https://doi.org/10.1111/mms.12527

Darling, J. D., Keogh, K. E., & Steeves, T. E. (1998). Gray whale (Eschrichtius robustus) habitat utilization and prey species off Vancouver Island, B.C. Marine Mammal Science, 14(4), 692–720. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1748-7692.1998.tb00757.x

Hastie, G. D., Wilson, B., Wilson, L. J., Parsons, K. M., & Thompson, P. M. (2004). Functional mechanisms underlying cetacean distribution patterns: Hotspots for bottlenose dolphins are linked to foraging. Marine Biology, 144(2), 397–403. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00227-003-1195-4

Mann, J. (1999). Behavioral sampling methods for cetaceans: A review and critique. Marine Mammal Science, 15(1), 102–122. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1748-7692.1999.tb00784.x

Slooten, E. (1994). Behavior of Hector’s Dolphin: Classifying Behavior by Sequence Analysis. Journal of Mammalogy, 75(4), 956–964. https://doi.org/10.2307/1382477

Torres, L. G., Nieukirk, S. L., Lemos, L., & Chandler, T. E. (2018). Drone up! Quantifying whale behavior from a new perspective improves observational capacity. Frontiers in Marine Science, 5(SEP). https://doi.org/10.3389/fmars.2018.00319

Mayo, C. A., & Marx, M. K. (1990). Surface foraging behaviour of the North Atlantic right whale, Eubalaena glacialis, and associated zooplankton characteristics. Canadian Journal of Zoology, 68(10), 2214–2220. https://doi.org/10.1139/z90-308

Our GEM(M), Ruby, is back in action!

By Lisa Hildebrand, MSc student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

Every season, or significant period of time, usually has a distinct event that marks its beginning. For example, even though winter officially begins when the winter solstice occurs sometime between December 20 and December 23, many people often associate the first snowfall as the real start of winter. To mark the beginning of schooling, when children start 1stgrade in Germany (which is where I’m from), they receive something called a “Zuckertüte”, which translated means “sugar bag”. It is a large (sometimes as large as the child) cone-shaped container made of cardboard filled with toys, chocolates, sweets, school supplies and various other treats topped with a large bow.

Receiving my Zuckertüte in August of 2001 before starting 1st grade. Source: Ines Hildebrand.

I still remember (and even have) mine – it was almost as tall as I was, had a large Barbie printed on it (and a real one sitting on top of it) and was bright pink. And of course, while at a movie theatre, once the lights dim completely and the curtain surrounding the screen opens just a little further, members of the audience stop chit-chatting or sending text messages, everyone quietens down and puts their devices away – the film is about to start. There are hundreds upon thousands of examples like these – moments, events, days that mark the start of something.

In the past, the beginning of summer has always been tied to two things for me: the end of school and the chance to be outside in the sun for many hours and days. This reality has changed slightly since moving to Oregon. While I don’t technically have any classes during the summer, the work definitely won’t stop. There are still dozens of papers to read, samples to run in the lab, and data points to plot. For anyone from Oregon or the Pacific Northwest (PNW), it’s pretty well known that the weather can be a little unpredictable and variable, meaning that summer might not always be filled with sunny days. Despite somewhat losing these two “summer markers”, I have found a new event to mark the beginning of summer – the arrival of the gray whales.

Their propensity for coastal waters and near-shore feeding is part of what makes gray whales so unique and arguably “easier” to study than some other baleen whale species. Image captured under NOAA/NMFS permit #21678. Source: Leigh Torres.

 

It’s official – the gray whale field season is upon us! As many of you may already know, the GEMM Lab has two active gray whale research projects: investigating the impacts of ocean noise on gray whale physiology and exploring potential individual foraging specialization among the Pacific Coast Feeding Group (PCFG) gray whales. Both projects involve field work, with the former operating out of Newport and the latter taking place in Port Orford, both collecting photographs and a variety of samples and tracklines to study the PCFG, which is a sub-group of the larger Eastern North Pacific (ENP) population. June 1st is the widely accepted “cut-off date” for the PCFG whales, whereby gray whales seen after June 1st along the PNW coastline (specifically northern California, Oregon, Washington and British Columbia) are considered members of the PCFG. While this date is not the only qualifying factor for an individual to be considered a PCFG member, it is a good general rule of thumb. Since last week happened to be the first week of June, PI Leigh Torres, field technician Todd Chandler and myself launched out onto the Pacific Ocean in our trusty RHIB Ruby twice looking for gray whales, and it sure was a successful start to the season!

Even though I have done small boat-based field work before, every project and field team operates a little differently, which is why I was a little nervous at first. There are a lot of components to the Newport-based project as Leigh & co. assess gray whale physiology by collecting fecal samples, drone imagery and taking photographs, observing behavior patterns, as well as assessing local prey through GoPro footage and light traps. I wasn’t worried about the prey components of the research, since there is plenty of prey sampling involved in my Port Orford research, however I was worried about the whale side of things. I wasn’t sure whether I would be able to catch the drone as it returned back home to Ruby, fearing I might fumble and let it slip through my fingers. I also experienced slight déjà vu when handling the net we use to collect the fecal samples as I was forced to think back to some previous field work that involved collecting a biopsy dart with a net as well. During that project, I had somehow managed to get the end of the net stuck in the back of the boat and as I tried to scoop up the biopsy dart with the net-end, the pole became more and more stuck while the water kept dragging the net-end down and eventually the pole ended up snapping in my hands. On top of all this anxiety and work, trying to find your footing in a small RHIB like Ruby packed with lots of gear and a good amount of swell doesn’t make any of those tasks any easier.

However, as it turned out, none of my fears came to fruition. As soon as Todd fired up Ruby’s engine and we whizzed out and under the Newport bridge, I felt exhilarated. I love field work and was so excited to be out on the water again. During the two days I was able to observe multiple individuals of a species of whale that I find unique and fascinating.

Markings and pigmentation on the flukes are also unique to individuals and allow us to perform photo identification to track individuals over months and years. Image captured under NOAA/NMFS permit #21678. Source: Leigh Torres.

I felt back in my natural element and working with Leigh and Todd was rewarding and fun, as I have so much to learn from their years of experience and natural talent in the field dealing with stressful situations and juggling multiple components and gear. Even though I wasn’t out there collecting data for my own project, some of my observations did get me thinking about what I hope to focus on in my thesis – individualization. It is always interesting to see how differently whales will behave, whether due to the substrate we find them over, the water depths we find them in, or what their surfacing patterns are like. Although I still have six weeks to go until my field season starts and feel lucky to have the opportunity to help Leigh and Todd with the Newport field work, I am already looking forward to getting down to Port Orford in mid-July and starting the fifth consecutive gray whale field season down there.

But back to Newport – over the course of two days, we were able to deploy and retrieve one light trap to collect zooplankton, collect two fecal samples, perform two GoPro drops, fly the drone three times, and take hundreds of photos of whales. Leigh and Todd were both glad to be reunited with an old friend while I felt lucky to be able to meet such a famous lady – Scarback. A whale with a long sighting history not just for the GEMM Lab but for various researchers along the coast that study this population. Scarback is well-known (and easily identified) by the large concave injury on her back that is covered in whale lice, or cyamids. While there are stories about how Scarback’s wound came to be, it is not known for sure how she was injured. However, what researchers do know is that the wound has not stopped this female from reproducing and successfully raising several calves over her lifetime. After hearing her story from Leigh, I wasn’t surprised that both she and Todd were so thrilled to get both a fecal sample and a drone flight from her early in the season. The two days weren’t all rosy; most of day 1 was shrouded in a cloud of mist resulting in a thin but continuous layer of moisture forming on our clothes, while on day 2 we battled with some pretty big swells (up to 6 feet tall) and in typical Oregon coast style we were victims of a sudden downpour for about 10 minutes. We had some excellent sightings and some not-so-excellent sightings. Sightings where we had four whales surrounding our boat at the same time and sightings where we couldn’t re-locate a whale that had popped up right next to us. It happens.

 

A local celebrity – Scarback. Image captured under NOAA/NMFS permit #21678. Source: Lisa Hildebrand.

 

An ecstatic Lisa with wild hair standing in the bow pulpit of Ruby camera at the ready. Source: Leigh Torres.

Field work is certainly one of my favorite things in the world. The smell of the salt, the rustling of cereal bar wrappers, the whipping of hair, the perpetual rosy noses and cheeks no matter how many times you apply and re-apply sunscreen, the awkward hilarity of clambering onto the back of the boat where the engine is housed to take a potty break, the whooshing sound of a blow, the sometimes gentle and sometimes aggressive rocking of the boat, the realization that you haven’t had water in four hours only to chug half of your water in a few seconds, the waft of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, the circular footprint where a whale has just gracefully dipped beneath the surface slipping away from view. I don’t think I will ever tire of any of those things.

 

 

Midway Atoll: the next two weeks at the largest albatross colony in the world (two years later)

By Rachael Orben, Assistant Professor (Senior Research), Seabird Oceanography Lab

This February I had the opportunity to spend two weeks at Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge in the Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument. I was there to GPS track black-footed and Laysan albatross during their short chick-brooding foraging trips. Two weeks is just enough time since the albatross are taking short trips (3-5 days) to feed their rapidly growing chicks.

My first visit to Midway (2016 blog post) occurred right as the black-footed albatross chicks were hatching (quickly followed by the Laysan albatross chicks). This time, we arrived almost exactly when I had left off. The oldest chicks were just about two weeks old. This shift in phenology meant that, though subtle, each day offered new insights for me as I watched chicks transform into large aware and semi-mobile birds. By the time we left, unattended chicks were rapidly multiplying as the adults shifted to the chick-rearing stage. During chick rearing, both parents leave the chick unattended and take longer foraging trips.

Our research goal was to collect tracking data from both species that can be used to address a couple of research questions. First of all, winds can aid, or hinder albatross foraging and flight efficiency (particularly during the short brooding trips). In the North Pacific, the strength and direction of the winds are influenced by the ENSO (El Niño Southern Oscillation) cycles. The day after we left Midway, NOAA issued an El Niño advisory indicating weak El Nino conditions. We know from previous work at Tern Island (farther east and farther south at 23.87 N, -166.28 W) that El Niño improves foraging for Laysan albatrosses during chick brooding, while during La Niña reproductive success is lower (Thorne et al., 2016). However, since Midway is farther north, and farther west the scenario might be different there. Multiple years of GPS tracking data are needed to address this question and we hope to return to collect more data next year (especially if  La Niña follows the El Niño as is often the case).

We will also overlap the tracking data with fishing boat locations from the Global Fishing Watch database to assess the potential for birds from Midway to interact with high seas fisheries during this time of year (project description, associated blog post). Finally, many of the tags we deployed incorporated a barometric pressure sensor and the data can be used to estimate flight heights relative to environmental conditions such as wind strength. This type of data is key to assessing the impact of offshore wind energy (Kelsey et al., 2018).

How to track an albatross

To track an albatross we use small GPS tags that we tape to the back feathers. After the bird returns from a foraging trip, we remove the tape from the feathers and take the datalogger off. Then we recharge the battery and download the data!

This research is a collaboration between Lesley Thorne (Stony Brook University), Scott Shaffer (San Jose State University), myself (Oregon State University), and Melinda Conners (Washington State University). The field effort was generously supported by the Laurie Landeau Foundation via the Minghua Zhang Early Career Faculty Innovation Fund at Stoney Brook University to Lesley Thorne.

My previous visit to Midway occurred just after house mice were discovered attacking incubating adult albatrosses. Since then, a lot of thought and effort had gone into developing a plan to eradicate mice from Midway. You can find out more via Island Conservation’s Midway blogs and the USFWS.

References

Kelsey, E. C., Felis, J. J., Czapanskiy, M., Pereksta, D. M., & Adams, J. (2018). Collision and displacement vulnerability to offshore wind energy infrastructure among marine birds of the Pacific Outer Continental Shelf. Journal of Environmental Management, 227, 229–247. http://doi.org/10.1016/j.jenvman.2018.08.051

Thorne, L. H., Conners, M. G., Hazen, E. L., Bograd, S. J., Antolos, M., Costa, D. P., & Shaffer, S. A. (2016). Effects of El Niño-driven changes in wind patterns on North Pacific albatrosses. Journal of the Royal Society Interface, 13(119), 20160196. http://doi.org/10.1098/rsif.2016.0196

Who Am I? Exploring the theory of individualisation among marine mammals

By Lisa Hildebrand, MSc student, OSU Department of Fisheries and Wildlife, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

“Just be yourself!” is a phrase that everyone has probably heard at least once in their lives. The idea of being an individual who is distinctly different from other individuals is a concept that is focal to the society we live in today. While historically it may have been frowned upon to be the “black sheep in the crowd”, nowadays that seems to be the goal.

Source: Go Comics.

This quest for uniqueness has resulted in different styles of fashion, speech, profession, interest in art, music, literature, automobile types – the list is endless. The American Psychological Association defines personality as the “individual differences in characteristic patterns of thinking, feeling and behaving”1. So, all of the choices we make on a daily basis shape our behaviour, and our behaviour in turn shapes our personality.

Since personality is something that is so engrained within human society, it isn’t surprising that ecologists have explored this concept among non-humans. Decades of research have resulted in an abundance of literature detailing personality in many different taxa and species, ranging from chimpanzees to mice to ants2. Naturally, the definition of personality for animals differs from that for humans since the assessment of animal thoughts and feelings is still somewhat of a locked box to us. Nevertheless, the behavioural aspect of the two definitions remains consistent whereby animal personality is broadly defined as “consistent variation in behavioural traits between individuals”3.

Although I am an early career marine mammal ecologist finding my footing in this rapidly expanding field, I have a keen interest in teasing apart possible cases of individual specialisation within marine mammal populations. So, before getting straight into the nitty gritty of individual specialisation, it is important for me to take a small step back and consider the concept of specialisation as applied to small subgroups or populations of marine mammals.

Specialisations are mostly related to foraging or feeding behaviour whereby a subgroup of individuals will develop a novel method to locate and capture prey. These behaviours have been reported for several marine mammal species, and are strongly coupled to intra and inter-specific competition with other predators for prey and habitat characteristics. Furthermore, it is posited that factors such as resource benefits (e.g. energy content of prey), prey escape rates, and handling times can be minimised if specialisation for a particular prey type or habitat occurs4.

In Florida Bay, Torres & Read5 documented two distinct foraging strategies employed by two bottlenose dolphin ecotypes. One dolphin ecotype was found to forage using deep diving with erratic surfacings, whereas the second ecotype chose to forage through mud ring feeding and were mostly seen in shallow habitats. The latter ecotype is in fact so adapted to shallow depths that dolphins were typically observed foraging in waters <2 m deep. In this example, the foraging tactics of the two ecotypes are strongly driven by habitat conditions, specifically depth. The video below is aerial footage of bottlenose dolphins performing mud ring feeding.

Such group specialisations have been identified not only in several other bottlenose dolphin populations around the world6,7, but also in other cetacean species, including killer whales (distinct differences in target prey between transients and residents8), Guiana dolphins (mud-plume feeding9), humpback dolphins (strand feeding10), and several others. Noticeable here is that these records concern Odontocete species, which is not surprising since these toothed whales are vastly different to baleen whales in that they often live in structured groups with bonds between individuals sometimes lasting for decades11. Long-term relationships are conducive to developing specialised group hunting strategies as individuals will spend considerable time with one another and the success of obtaining prey depends on the cooperation and coordination of the group.

For baleen whales and other marine mammals, such as pinnipeds, where life history and social organisation is more geared toward a solitary life, examples of group specialisations are relatively rare (with the exception of the well-documented bubble-net feeding exhibited by humpback whales12). While group specialisation may not be as prevalent in Mysticetes, the same problems of inter and intra-specific competition persists among these more solitary species too, which would suggest that individuals should develop their own unique foraging tactics and preferences. Evidence for individualisation is hard to obtain since it requires repeated observations of the same individuals over time with good knowledge of the prey type being consumed and/or the habitat being used to forage in.

Nevertheless, examples do exist. Perhaps the most well-documented case of individualisation within a population for marine mammals is of the sea otter. Estes et al. (2003) describe 10 female sea otters in Monterey Bay that had high inter-individual variation in diet, which they investigated over a scale of 8 years13. Most females specialised on 1-4 types of prey, with marked differences between the diets chosen by each female, despite habitat overlap. This individualisation of diet was not attributable to variation in prey availability; hence, authors concluded that this extreme specialisation occurred to reduce intra-population competition for prey.

Ecologists have historically (and probably still to this day) disagreed on whether individualisation actually matters in the grand scheme of things. There are generally three schools of thought on the matter: (1) individual specialisation is rare and/or weakly influences population dynamics and so is not very important; (2) while individual specialisation does occur and may in fact be commonplace, it does not affect ecological processes at the large population scale; and (3) individual specialisation is widespread and can significantly impact population dynamics and/or ecosystem function.

As you might have guessed by this point, I find myself in the third school of thought. There are many arguments supporting this theory, and what I believe to be very good arguments against statements 1 and 2. While I have only provided one specific named example for individual specialisation in a marine mammal, there are several documented cases of such occurrences among other marine taxa (e.g., pinnipeds14, sharks15, fish16) and a much larger number of studies for terrestrial species4. Thus, the claim that it is rare or weak, seems implausible to me.

Statement 2 is a little more complicated to tackle as it involves understanding how actions on a relatively small scale affect a whole population or even an ecosystem. For instance, consider two female sea otters living in a small coastal area where one sea otter prefers to eat turban snails and the other exclusively feeds on abalone. The sudden decline in abundance of either of these prey could lead to serious health and reproductive issues for those females. Should the low prey abundance persist, then poor health and reproduction of several females in a population that specialise on that prey item can rapidly lead to genetic loss and an overall population decline. Particularly if an individual’s or species’ home range is rather restricted or small. In the case of the sea otter, which are often touted as a keystone species due to its presence preventing sea urchin barren formation that is known to wreak havoc on kelp forests, knock-on effects of such a population decline could result in poor overall ecosystem health.

It may be easy to assume that one individual dolphin, otter, seal or whale cannot possibly make a difference to a whole population or ecosystem. This assumption strikes me as a little odd since humans are always told to ‘be the change they wish to see in the world’ and that ‘every person can make a difference’. Why then should these sentiments not be applicable to non-humans? While a gray whale may not hold a sign at a protest or run for president (actions commonly considered to cause change in the human world), perhaps the choice that a gray whale makes every day to only consume one species of zooplankton, can influence other gray whales in the area, predators from other taxa, habitat structure, other prey availability, and/or cause trophic cascades.

Through my research, I aim to elucidate whether the gray whales display some level of foraging individualisation while feeding in Port Orford, Oregon. I will use data from four years to compare tracks of individual whales with zooplankton samples collected in the area to correlate each individual’s movement patterns with prey availability. I will assess the quality of prey through bomb calorimetry and microplastic analysis of the zooplankton samples to determine energetic content and pollutant levels, respectively. This prey assessment will describe the potential effects of prey specialization on whales, which is fundamental to assessing overall population health. Individualisation can strongly affect fitness of individuals, either positively or negatively depending on several factors, which will undoubtedly have an impact at the population level.

(The videos below are examples of two different tactics we see the gray whales display while foraging along the Oregon coast in the summer months. The first video shows a whale foraging among kelp with some very acrobatic moves, while the second is of a whale employing the ‘sharking’ method where the whale is feeding benthically in such shallow depths that both the pectoral fin and the fluke stick out of the water, making the whale look like a ‘shark’.)

References

  1. American Psychological Association, Personality. Retrieved from: https://www.apa.org/topics/personality/.
  2. Carere C., & Locurto, C., Interaction between animal personality and animal cognition. Current Zoology, 2015. 57(4): 491-498.
  3. Gosling, S.D., From mice to men: what can we learn about personality from animal research?Psychological Bulletin, 2001. 127(1): 45-86.
  4. Bolnick, D.I., et al., The ecology of individuals: incidence and implications of individual specialisation. The American Naturalist, 2003. 161(1): 1-28.
  5. Torres, L.G., & Read, A. J., Where to catch a fish? The influence of foraging tactics on the ecology of bottlenose dolphins (Tursiops truncatus) in Florida Bay, Florida. Marine Mammal Science, 2009. 25(4): 797-815.
  6. Gisburne, T.J., & Connor, R.C., Group size and feeding success in strand-feeding bottlenose dolphins (Tursiops truncatus) in Bull Creek, South Carolina. Marine Mammal Science, 2015. 31(3): 1252-1257.
  7. Gazda, S.K., et al., A division of labour with role specialization in group-hunting bottlenose dolphins (Tursiops truncatus) off Cedar Keys, Florida.Proceedings of the Royal Society: Biological Sciences, 2005. 272(1559): 135-140.
  8. Ford, J.K.B., et al., Dietary specialization in two sympatric populations of killer whales (Orcinus orca) in coastal British Columbia and adjacent waters. Canadian Journal of Zoology, 1998. 76(8): 1456-1471.
  9. Rossi-Santos, M.R., & Wedekin, L.L., Evidence of bottom contact behaviour by estuarine dolphins (Sotalia guianensis) on the Eastern Coast of Brazil.Aquatic Mammals, 2006. 32(2): 140-144.
  10. Peddemors, V.M., & Thompson, G., Beaching behaviour during shallow water feeding by humpback dolphins (Sousa plumbea). Aquatic Mammals, 1994. 20(2): 65-67.
  11. Tyack, P., Population biology, social behavior and communication in whales and dolphins. Trends in Ecology & Evolution, 1986. 1(6): 144-150.
  12. Wiley, D., et al., Underwater components of humpback whale bubble-net feeding behaviour.Behaviour, 2011. 148(5/6): 575-602.
  13. Estes, J.A., et al., Individual variation in prey selection by sea otters: patterns, causes and implications. Journal of Animal Ecology, 2003. 72(1): 144-155.
  14. Cherel, Y., et al., Stable isotopes document seasonal changes in trophic niches and winter foraging individual specialization in diving predators from the Southern Ocean. Journal of Animal Ecology, 2007. 76(4): 826-836.
  15. Matich, P., et al., Contrasting patterns of individual specialization and trophic coupling in two marine apex predators. Journal of Animal Ecology, 2010. 80(1): 294-305.
  16. Svanbäck, R., & Persson, L., Individual diet specialization, niche width and population dynamics: implications for trophic polymorphisms. Journal of Animal Ecology, 2004. 73(5): 973-982.