Month: September 2018

Surprises from the field: Winter in the Falkland Islands

By Rachael Orben, Assistant Professor, Seabird Oceanography Lab

Fieldwork often comes with the unexpected. It is the reason why field work is so exciting – not only discovering something new about a species and ecosystem, but it is also often the catalyst for the development of novel ideas and projects. However, designing a successful field campaign to a new location (and acquiring funding) requires preconceived expectations that are not too far off from reality. Working with colonial breeding seabirds and pinnipeds has its advantages since these animals are predictably found at their colonies during the breeding period.  However, breeding failures can be worse than expected (see my blog on red-legged kittiwakes) and as I just learned, sometimes almost everything can be surprising.

At the end of August, I returned from a 6-week winter field campaign on Bird Island in the Falkland Islands led by Dr. Alastair Baylis a Senior Research Fellow at the South Atlantic Environmental Research Institute. We were there to study the fine-scale foraging ecology of South American fur seals. Despite a healthy research community in the Falklands, very little is known about South American fur seals in the region. Our time on Bird Island was probably the first time people had been on the island in winter since the days of sealing.

So, what did I find surprising?

I will list them here from slightly mundane to the very surprising.

1) First of all, it was winter and I expected it to be cold.

This is probably a case of me not doing my pre-field season research, but it was pleasantly not as cold as I expected. Generally, the temperatures were above freezing, which made doing everything much easier. Of course, I still wore lots of layers and drank lots of hot drinks, but overall it was fairly mild.  It was also less windy and less rainy than I had imagined and we had some beautiful sunny days.

2) I had hay fever!

Not something usually anticipated for winter field work, but the tussac grass was flowering and that left me with itchy eyes, a stuffy nose and lots of sneezes. I should mention that tussac grass is everywhere and many of the tussacs are taller than a person!

Now for the science surprises.

3) FEMALE Fur Seals took foraging trips That were much longer than we had anticipated.

We had a couple of females leave the colony and go on foraging trips for 10 days, others for ~2 weeks, and others for over 3 weeks! Previous work on the island indicated that female fur seals might take 4.1­ +/- 2 day trips (Thompson et al. 2003). Fortunately, we were on the island for the long-haul (6-weeks shower free) so we were able to wait them out and retrieve the tags (and the data) when the females came home. The differences in trip duration could simply reflect annual changes in prey availability, but we know very little about what fur seals are eating, especially during the winter (Baylis et al. 2013).

4) albatrosses were attending their colony.

As a reminder, this was the middle of winter. Generally, black-browed albatrosses do not return to their colonies until September since they lay eggs in October (Strange, 1992). There weren’t many birds the day we arrived in mid-July (n=9), but even so, that was odd enough that I began taking photos of the colony each day with the plan to count birds and quantify colony attendance.

…and for the most surprising of all…

5) South American Sea Lions males were killing and eating female South American fur seals!

We were slow to realize what was happening since it was so unexpected. After we deployed our tracking tags on fur seals we spent many hours at the colony simply observing. We started to see things that didn’t quite make sense. Females cautiously approaching the water. Male sea lions hanging out in the water. Then Dr. Baylis saw a male sea lion go up into the colony and grab a pup and eat it! Shortly after that, we saw two male sea lions chase a female out of the water and up the hill towards the colony. One male eventually came back down to a tide pool with a female he had killed in his mouth. From that point, it because very clear what was happening and we saw multiple kills.

It is unknown how often male southern sea lions eat fur seals, but it has been observed in the Falklands before, both in the 1970s and in more recent years (Gentry & Johnson 1981).  Worldwide, sea lions are known to occasionally eat fur seal pups (Gentry & Johnson 1981, Harcourt 1993, Bradshaw et al. 1998), but people have rarely observed sea lions predating females.

Our three scientific surprises are really what field work is all about. We came home with the tracking data we were hoping for and we came home with something arguably more valuable. We can use these new observations to make informed hypotheses about how marine predators fit into the ecosystem in ways that before our visit to Bird Island we would have never have expected. Hopefully, we will have a chance to go back!
References

Baylis AMM, Arnould JPY, Staniland IJ (2013) Diet of South American fur seals at the Falkland Islands. Marine Mammal Sci 30:1210–1219

Bradshaw CJA, Lalas C, Mcconkey S (1998) New Zealand sea lion predation on New Zealand fur seals. New Zealand Journal of Marine and Freshwater Research 32:101–104

Gentry RL, Johnson JH (1981) Predation by sea lions on northern fur seal neonates. Mammalia 45

Harcourt R (1993) Individual variation in predation on fur seals by southern sea lions (Otaria byronia) in Peru. Canadian Journal of Zoology 71:1908–1911

Strange, IJ (1992) Field Guide to the Wildlife of the Falkland Islands and South Georgia (Collins Pocket Guide)

Thompson DR, Moss S, Lovell P (2003) Foraging behaviour of South American fur seals Arctocephalus australis: extracting fine scale foraging behaviour from satellite tracks. Mar Ecol Prog Ser 260:285–296

Experiencing the Oregon Coast

By Dominique Kone, Masters Student in Marine Resource Management

An ecologist’s research may involve some combination of fieldwork and lab work. Yet, with modern advances in quantitative tools, such as models, computer-based research is becoming more popular. Furthermore, as the predictive capacity of models improve, they are becoming valuable to decision-makers to forecast how marine environments may respond to management decisions or phenomenon like climate change. While this type of research is important to society, I’ve often wondered if and how researchers may benefit by stepping away from their computer, every now and then, to observe the very subjects they’re studying.

For my thesis, I’m conducting an ecological assessment of a potential sea otter reintroduction to the Oregon coast. Through this work, I spend most of my time working at a desktop, analyzing spatial layers, and researching and synthesizing the literature. While I’ve learned a great deal about sea otters and the Oregon Coast, I felt that I needed to gain a better contextual understanding of this area, especially as someone from outside the region. Luckily, this summer, I had the perfect opportunity to explore this great state. Here, I share just some of the places I visited this past summer, what I’ve learned from my travels, and how these explorations have given me a deeper appreciation for the Oregon Coast and the implications of my research.

Source: Beachcombers NW.

For those of you unfamiliar with Oregon geography, the Oregon Coast is an expansive area stretching from Warrenton, which borders the Columbia River, in the north to the Oregon-California border just south of Brookings (approximately 362 miles). However, if we divide this area into three geographic regions – northern, central, and southern – some noticeable regional differences become apparent, both in terms of local topography and human use and visitation.

Relative to the northern and central coastlines, the geology of southern coastline (approximately Coos Bay to Brookings) is much more complex – comprising of rocky shorelines, sheltered coves and inlets, islands, and calm estuaries (overall, less sandy beaches). The region also appears to support a relatively higher biomass of macroalgae, including kelp. Taken altogether, the presence of these physical features appears to make the southern coast potentially suitable sea otter habitat, an important prerequisite of reintroduction efforts.

Pictured: Southern coastlines. Left: Samuel H. Boardman State Park near Brookings, OR. Right: Port Orford Heads State Park in Port Orford, OR. Source: Dominique Kone.

In contrast, the northern and central coastlines are predominantly comprised of sandy shorelines. However, these stretches of beaches are sometimes disrupted by complex and rocky habitat and have some of the largest estuaries and bays found along the entire Oregon Coast – such as Yaquina Bay, Tillamook Bay, and the Columbia River – all of which could also be potentially suitable habitat for sea otters. Furthermore, while you can find some kelp in these regions (i.e. Yaquina Head Lighthouse), these beds appear to be more dispersed and less dense than along the southern coast. By observing these features in person this summer, I came away with a much greater sense of just how biogeographically unique each of these regions is, as well as what it truly means for habitat to be “suitable”.

Pictured: Central coastlines. Left: Yaquina Head Marine Garden. Right: Agate Beach, OR. In this photo, Yaquina Head can be seen in the distance, demonstrating how quickly shorelines can change from sandy to rocky habitat in the northern and central regions. Source: Dominique Kone.

Aside from these physical characteristics, I also came away with a greater sense of the type of people who live and visit these regions. Along the Oregon Coast, dozens of towns, cities, unincorporated communities, and census-designated places are called home by some 653,112 people (State of Oregon. 2012). Yet, the southern coast is much less populated than the rest of the Oregon Coast. In fact, only 13% (people in Coos and Curry County) of the Oregon Coast population lives along the southern coast (State of Oregon. 2012). During my visit to the southern region, I noticed the typical beach-goers and overnight campers at various state parks, but there were not nearly as many in the northern and central regions. This demographic disparity is not surprising, given each region’s location in the state. The northern and central coasts are much closer to highly-populated cities such as Portland, Salem, Corvallis, and Eugene, potentially making them more accessible to weekend or seasonal visitors. In southern Oregon, the nearest in-land cities include Roseburg, Grants Pass, and Medford, but these populations pale in comparison to those in the central and northern regions.

Pictured: Beach-goers enjoying a pleasant stroll on Cannon Beach, OR. Source: Roger’s Inn.

After spending some time on the Oregon Coast, I wonder how these communities may be impacted by sea otters if they were to be reintroduced. Tourism and recreation are a huge part of the Oregon Coast lifestyle and economy. If managers were to bring sea otters back to Oregon, we could potential see an increase in visitation – as sea otters are an iconic and charismatic species – particularly to communities on the southern coast where sea otters may be more likely to establish. This increased tourism may come in the form of tourist redistribution from the northern and central coast to the southern region, an increase in overall tourists from all over the state, or even an influx from outside the state. Although these predictions are premature and based only on my recent observations, it is important to consider the societal impacts of sea otter reintroduction to our local communities.

To brings things back full circle, my coastal adventures provided me with a much deeper understanding of the uniqueness of the Oregon coast, as well as the people who call it home. Having this sound understanding is not only important for me as I conduct my research, but it is also vitally important for managers who are considering a sea otter reintroduction as this action could have coast-wide or localized impacts on these communities. If managers decide to move forward with a reintroduction effort, they could look at other regions along the U.S. west coast that currently have sea otters to assess how wildlife tourism is managed in these communities. For me, I’m glad I decided to step way from the computer to experience this beautiful area because it has provided me with a perspective I could not get from my data and models.

 

References:

State of Oregon. 2012. Natural Hazards Mitigation Plan: Region 1: Oregon Coast. Accessed here < https://www.oregon.gov/LCD/HAZ/docs/2.A.ORNHMP12-Reg1Profile.pdf >

A Summer of “Firsts” for Team Whale Storm

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

To many people, six weeks may seem like a long time. Counting down six weeks until your favourite TV show airs can feel like time dragging on slowly (did anyone else feel that way waiting for Blue Planet II to be released?). Or crossing off the days on your calendar toward that much-needed holiday that is still six weeks away can feel like an eternity. It makes sense that six weeks should feel like a long time. After all, six weeks are approximately a ninth of an entire year. Yet, I can assure you that if you asked anyone on my research team this summer whether six weeks was a long time, they would all say no.

As I watched each of my interns present our research to a room of 50 engaged community members (Fig. 1) after our six week research effort, I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride for all of them at how far they had come during the course of the field season.

Figure 1. Our audience at the community presentation on August 31. Photo by Leigh Torres.

On the very first day of our two-week training back in July, I gave my team an introductory presentation covering gray whales, their ecology, what the next six weeks would look like, how this project had developed and its results to date (Quick side-note here: I want to give a huge shout out to Florence and Leigh as this project would not be what it is today without their hard work and dedication as they laid the groundwork for it three years ago and have continued to improve and expand it). I remember the looks on my interns’ faces and the phrase that comes to mind is ‘deer in headlights’. It isn’t surprising that this was the case as this internship was the first time any of them had done marine mammal field work, or any kind of field work for that matter. It makes me think back to my first taste of field work. I was a fresh high school graduate and volunteering with a bottlenose dolphin research group. I remember feeling out of place and unsure of myself, both in terms of data collection skills but also having to live with the same people I had worked with all day. But as the first few days turned into the first few weeks, I grew into my role and by the end of my time there, I felt like an expert in what I was doing. Based on the confidence with which my interns presented our gray whale foraging ecology research to an audience just over a week ago, I know that they too had become experts in these short six weeks. Experts in levelling a theodolite, in sighting a blow several kilometres out from our cliff site, in kayaking in foggy conditions, in communicating effectively in high stress situations – the list goes on and on.

While you may have read the previous blog posts written by each of my interns in the last four weeks and thus have a sense of who they are, I want to tell you a little more about each of these hardworking undergraduates that played a large role in making this year’s Port Orford gray whale season so effective. Although we did not have any local high school interns this year, the whole team hails from Oregon, specifically from Florence, Sweet Home and Portland.

Figure 2. Haley on the cliff equipped with the camera waiting for a whale to surface. Photo by Cynthia Leonard.

Haley Kent (Fig. 2), my co-captain and Marine Studies Initiative (MSI) intern, an Environmental Science major, is going into her senior year at OSU this fall. She is focused and driven, which I know will enable her to pursue her dream of becoming a shark researcher (I can’t even begin to describe her excitement when we saw the thresher shark on our GoPro video). I couldn’t have asked for a better right hand person for my first year taking over this project and I am excited to see what results she will reveal through her project of individual gray whale foraging preferences. Also, Haley has a big obsession for board games and provided the team with many evenings of entertainment thanks to Munchkin and King of Tokyo.

Figure 3. Dylan in the stern of the kayak on a foggy day reeling down the GoPro stick on the downrigger. Photo by Haley Kent.

Dylan Gregory (Fig. 3) is transferring from Portland Community College and is going to be an OSU junior this fall. Not only was Dylan always extremely helpful in working with me to come up with ways to troubleshoot or fix gear, but his portable speaker and long list of eclectic podcasts always made him a very good cliff team partner. He was also Team Whale Storm’s main chef in the kitchen, and while some of his dishes caused tears & sweat among some team members (Dylan is a big fan of spices), there were never any leftovers, indicating how delicious the food was.

Figure 4. Robyn on one of our day’s off visiting the gigantic Redwoods in California. Photo by Haley Kent.

Robyn Norman (Fig. 4) will be a sophomore at OSU this fall and her commitment to zooplankton identification has been invaluable to the project. Last year when she was a freshman, Robyn was given our zooplankton samples from 2017, a few identification guides and instructions on how to use the dissecting microscope, before she was left to her own devices. Her level of independence and dedication as a freshman was incredible and I am very grateful for the time and skills she has given to this work. Besides this though, Robyn always brought an element of happiness to the room and I can speak on behalf of the rest of the team, that when she was gone for a week on a dive trip, the house did not feel the same without her.

Figure 5. Hayleigh Middleton at the community presentation. Her dry humour and quips earned her a lot of laughter from the audience keeping them entertained. Photo by Tom Calvanese.

Hayleigh Middleton (Fig. 5), a fresh high school graduate and freshly turned 18 during the project, is starting as a freshman at OSU this fall. She is extremely perceptive and would (thankfully) often remind others of tasks that they had forgotten to do (like take the batteries out of the theodolite or to mention the Secchi depth on the GoPro videos). I was very impressed by Hayleigh’s determination to continue working on the kayak despite her propensity for sea sickness (though after a few days we did remedy this by giving her raw ginger to chew on – not her favourite flavour or texture but definitely very, very effective!). She is inquisitive about almost everything and I know she will do very well in her first year at OSU.

Thank you, Team Whale Storm (Fig. 6), for giving me six weeks of your summer and for making my first year as project leader as seamless as it could have been! Without each and every one of you, I would not have been able to survey for 149.2 hours on the cliff, collect over 300 zooplankton samples, identify 31 gray whales, or launch a tandem kayak at 6:30 am every morning.

Figure 6. Team Whale Storm. Back row, from left to right: Haley Kent, Robyn Norman, Hayleigh Middleton, Dylan Gregory. Front row, from left to right: Tom Calvanese, Dr. Leigh Torres, Lisa Hildebrand. Photo by Mike Baran.

My interns were not the only ones to experience many “firsts” during this field season. I learned many new things for the first time right alongside them. While taking leadership is not a foreign concept to me, these six weeks were my first real experience of leading a project and a team for a sustained period of time. Managing teams, delegating tasks and compiling data felt gratifying because I felt like I was exactly where I should be (Fig. 7).

Figure 7. From left to right: Tom, myself, Hayleigh & Dylan on the cliff site looking for whales. Photo by Leigh Torres.
Figure 8. Haley & I on a cold evening out on the water but very excited to have gotten back the GoPro stick retrieved by divers after it had been stuck in a crevice for over 5 days. Photo by Lisa Hildebrand.

I dealt with many daunting tasks, yet thanks to the support of my interns, as well as Tom (Port Orford field station’s incredible station manager), Florence and Leigh, I learned how to resolve my problems: I fixed and replaced broken or lost gear (I am not a very mechanically inclined person; Fig. 8), budgeted food for five hungry people doing tiring field work (I’ve only ever budgeted for one person previously), and taught people how to use gear that I had not often used before (I can say now that the theodolite and I are friends, but this wasn’t the case for the first few weeks…).

 

Figure 9. Me with all the gear packed into the truck ready to leave Port Orford after the end of the field season. Photo by Haley Kent.

In the lead up to the summer field season this year, Leigh said to me, in one of the many emails we exchanged, that leading the project was a big task but that it was just six weeks long. She suggested that I rest up and get organised as much as I could ahead of time because, after all, the data collected this summer was going to be my thesis data, so I would want it to be as good as possible. Looking back, she couldn’t have been more right – the six weeks simply flew by, I did need the rest she had advised, and it definitely was a big task. I can’t wait for it to happen all over again next summer.

Looking through the scope: A world of small marine bugs

By Robyn Norman, GEMM Lab summer 2018 intern, OSU undergraduate

Although the average human may think all zooplankton are the same, to a whale, not all zooplankton are created equal. Just like us, different whales tend to favor different types of food over others. Thus, creating a meal perfect for each individual preference. Using a plankton net off the side of our kayak, each day we take different samples, hoping to figure out more about prey and what species the whales, we see, like best. These samples are then transported back to the lab for analysis and identification. After almost a year of identifying zooplankton and countless hours of looking through the microscope you would think I would have seen everything these tiny organisms have to offer.  Identifying mysid shrimp and other zooplankton to species level can be extremely difficult and time consuming, but equally rewarding. Many zooplankton studies often stop counting at 300 or 400 organisms, however in one very long day in July, I counted over 2,000 individuals. Zooplankton tend to be more difficult to work with due to their small size, fragility, and large quantity.

Figure 1. A sample fresh off the kayak in the beginning stages of identification. Photo by Robyn Norman.

A sample that looks quick and easy can turn into a never-ending search for the smallest of mysids. Most of the mysids that I have sorted can be as small as 5 mm in length. Being difficult to identify is an understatement. Figure 1 shows a sample in the beginning stages of analysis, with a wide range of mysids and other zooplankton. Different species of mysid shrimp generally have the same body shape, structure, size, eyes and everything else you can think of. The only way to easily tell them apart is by their telson, which is a unique structure of their tail. Their telsons cannot be seen with the naked eye and it can also be hard to find with a microscope if you do not know exactly what you are looking for.

 

Throughout my time identifying these tiny creatures I have found 9 different species of mysid from this gray whale foraging ecology project in Port Orford from the 2017 summer. But in 2018 three mysid species have been particularly abundant, Holmesimysis sculpta, Neomysis rayii, and Neomysis mercedis.

Figure 2. Picture taken with microscope of a Holmesimysis sculpta telson. Photo by Robyn Norman.

H. sculpta has a unique telson with about 18 lateral spines that stop as they reach the end of the telson (Figure 2). The end of the telson has 4 large spines that slightly curve to make a fork or scoop-like shape. From my own observations I have also noticed that H. sculpta has darker coloring throughout their bodies and are often heavily pregnant (or at least during the month of August). Neomysis rayii and Neomysis mercedis have been extremely difficult to identify and work with. While N. rayii can grow up to 65 mm, they can also often be the same small size as N. mercedis. The telsons of these two species are very similar, making them too similar to compare and differentiate. However, N. rayii can grow substantially bigger than N. mercedis, making the bigger shrimp easier to identify. Unfortunately, the small N. rayii still give birth to even smaller mysid babies, which can be confused as large N. mercedis. Identifying them in a timely manner is almost impossible. After a long discussion, we decided it would be easier to group these two species of Neomysis together and then sub-group by size. Our three categories were 1-10 mm, 11-15 mm, 16+ mm. According to the literature, N. mercedis are typically 11-15 mm meaning that anything over this size should be a N. rayii (McLaughlin 1980).

Figure 3. Microscopic photo of a gammarid. Photo source: WikiMedia.
Figure 4. Caprellidae found in sample with unique coloration. Photo by Robyn Norman.

While mysids comprise the majority of our samples, they are not the only zooplankton that I see. Amphipods are often caught along with the shrimp. Gammarids look like the terrestrial potato bug and can grow larger than some species of mysid (Fig. 3).

As well as, Caprellidae (Fig. 4) that remind me of little tiny aliens as they have large claws compared to their body size, making it hard to get them out of our plankton net. These impressive creatures are surprisingly hardy and can withstand long times in the freezer or being poked with tweezers under a microscope without dying.

In 2017, there was a high abundance of amphipods found in both of our study sites, Mill Rocks and Tichenor Cove. Mill Rocks surprisingly had 4 times the number of amphipods than Tichenor Cove. This result could be one of the possible reasons gray whales were observed more in Mill Rocks last year. Mill Rocks also has a substantial amount of kelp, a popular place for mysid swarms and amphipods. The occurrence of mysids at each of these sites was almost equal, whereas amphipods were almost exclusively found at Mill Rocks. Mill Rocks also had a higher average number of organisms than Tichenor Cove per samples, potentially creating better feeding grounds for gray whales here in Port Orford.

Analyzing the 2018 data I can already see some differences between the two years. In 2018 the main species of mysid that we are finding in both sites are Neomysis sp. and Holmesimysis sculpta, whereas in 2017 Alienacanthomysis macropsis, a species of mysid identified by their long eye stalks and blunt telson, made up the majority of samples from Tichenor Cove. There has also been a large decrease in amphipods from both locations compared to last year. Two samples from Mill Rocks in 2017 had over 300 amphipods, however this year less than 100 have been counted in total. All these differences in zooplankton prey availability may influence whale behavior and movement patterns. Further data analysis aims to uncover this possibility.

Figure 5. 2017 zooplankton community analysis from Tichenor Cove. There was a higher percentage and abundance of Neomysis rayii (yellow) and Alienacanthomysis macropsis (orange) than in Mill Rocks.
Figure 6. 2017 zooplankton community analysis from Mill Rocks. There was a higher abundance and percentage of amphipods (blue) and Holmesimysis sculpta (brown) than in Tichenor cove. Caprellidae (red) increased during the middle of the season, and decreased substantially towards the end.

The past 6 weeks working as part of the 2018 gray whale foraging ecology research team in Port Orford have been nothing short of amazing. We have seen over 50 whales, identified hundreds of zooplankton, and have spent almost every morning on the water in the kayak. An experience like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that we were fortunate to be a part of. For the past few years, I have been creating videos to document important and exciting times in my life. I have put together a short video that highlights the amazing things we did every day in Port Orford, as well as the creatures that live just below the surface. I hope you enjoy our Gray Whale Foraging Ecology 2018 video with music by Myd – The Sun.