A Gut Feeling: DNA Metabarcoding Gray Whale Diets

By Charles Nye, graduate student, OSU Department of Fisheries, Wildlife, & Conservation Sciences, Cetacean Conservation and Genomics Laboratory

Figure 1: An illustration (by me) of a feeding gray whale whose caudal end transitions into a DNA double helix.

Let’s consider how much stuff organisms shed daily. If you walk down a hallway, you’ll leave a microscopic trail of skin cells, evaporated sweat, and even more material if you so happen to sneeze or cough (as we’ve all learned). The residency of these bits and pieces in a given environment is on the order of days, give or take (Collins et al. 2018). These days, we can extract, amplify, and sequence DNA from leftover organismal material in environments (environmental DNA; eDNA), stomach contents (dietary DNA, dDNA), and other sources (Sousa et al. 2019; Chavez et al. 2021).

You might be familiar with genetic barcoding, where scientists are able to use documented and annotated pieces of a genome to identify a piece of DNA down to a species. Think of these as genetic fingerprints from a crime scene where all (described) species on Earth are prime suspects. With advancements in computing technology, we can barcode many species at the same time—a process known as metabarcoding. In short, you can now do an ecosystem-wide biodiversity survey without even needing to see your species of interest (Ficetola et al. 2008; Chavez et al. 2021).

(Before you ask: yes, people have tried sampling Loch Ness and came up with not a single strand of plesiosaur DNA (University of Otago, 2019).)

I received my crash course on metabarcoding when I was employed at the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute (MBARI), right before grad school. There, I was employed to help refine eDNA survey field and laboratory methods (in addition to some cool robot stuff). Here at OSU, I use metabarcoding to research whale ecology, detection, and even a little bit of forensics  work. Cetacean species (or evidence thereof) I’ve worked on include North Atlantic right whales (Eubalaena glacialis), killer whales (Orcinus spp.), and gray whales (Eschrichtius robustus).

Long-time readers of the GEMM Lab Blog are probably quite knowledgeable about the summertime grays—the Pacific Coast Feeding Group (PCFG). All of us here at OSU’s Marine Mammal Institute (MMI) are keenly interested in understanding why these whales hang out in the Pacific Northwest during the summer months and what sets them apart from the rest of the Eastern North Pacific gray whale population. What interests me? Well, I want to double-check what they’re eating—genetically.

“What does my study species eat?” is a straightforward but underappreciated question. It’s also deceptively difficult to address. What if your species live somewhere remote or relatively inaccessible? You can imagine this is a common logistical issue for most research in marine sciences. How many observations do you need to make to account for seasonal or annual changes in prey availability? Do all individuals in your study population eat the same thing? I certainly like to mix and match my diet.

Gray whale foraging ecology has been studied comprehensively over the last several decades, including an in-depth stomach content evaluation by Mary Nerini in 1984 and GEMMer Lisa Hildebrand’s MSc research. PCFG whales seem to prefer shrimpy little creatures called mysids, along with Dungeness crab (Cancer magister) larvae, during their stay in the Pacific Northwest (PNW), most notably the mysid Neomysis rayii (Guerrero 1989; Hildebrand et al. 2021). Indeed, the average energetic values of common suspected prey species in PNW waters rival the caloric richness of Arctic amphipods (Hildebrand et al. 2021). However, despite our wealth of visual foraging observations, metabarcoding may add an additional layer of resolution. For example, the ocean sunfish (Mola mola) was believed to exclusively forage on gelatinous zooplankton, but a metabarcoding approach revealed a much higher diversity of prey items, including other bony fishes and arthropods (Sousa et al. 2016).

Given all this exposition, you may be wondering: “Charles—how do you intend on getting dDNA from gray whales? Are you going to cut them open?”

Figure 2: The battle station, a vacuum pump that I use to filter out all of the particulate matter from a gray whale dDNA sample. The filter is made of polycarbonate track etch material, which melts away in the DNA extraction process—quite handy, indeed!

No. I’m going to extract DNA from their poop.

Well, actually, I’ve been doing that for the last two years. My lab (Cetacean Conservation and Genomics Laboratory, CCGL) and GEMM Lab have been collaborating to make lemonade out of, er…whale poop. An archive of gray whale fecal samples (with ongoing collections every field season) originally collected for hormone analyses presented itself with new life—the genomics kind. In addition to community-level data, we are also able to recover informative DNA from the gray whales, including sex ID from “depositing” individuals, though the recovery rate isn’t perfect.

Because the GEMM Lab/MMI can non-invasively collect multiple samples from the same individuals over time, dDNA metabarcoding is a great way to repeatedly evaluate the diets of the PCFG, just shy of being at the right place at the right time with a GoPro or drone to witness a feeding event.  While we can get stomach contents and even usable dDNA from a naturally deceased whale, those data may not be ideal. How representative a stranded whale is of the population is dependent on the cause of death; an emaciated or critically injured individual, for example, is a strong outlier.

Figure 3: Presence/absence of the top 10 most-common taxonomic Families observed in the PCFG gray whale dDNA dataset (n = 20, randomly selected). Filled-in dots indicate at least one genetic read associated with that Family, and empty dots indicate none. Note the prey taxa: mysids (Mysidae), krill (Euphausiidae), and olive snails (Olividae).

Here’s a snapshot of progress to date for this dDNA metabarcoding project. I pulled out twenty random samples from my much larger working dataset (n = 82) for illustrative purposes (and legibility). After some bioinformatic wizardry, we can use a presence/absence approach to get an empirical glimpse at what passes through a PCFG gray whale. While I am able to recover species-level information, using higher-level taxonomic rankings summarizes the dataset in a cleaner fashion (and also, not every identifiable sequence resolves to species).

The title of most commonly observed prey taxa belongs to our friends, the mysids (Mysidae). Surprisingly, crabs and amphipods are not as common in this dataset, instead losing to krill (Euphausiidae) and olive snails (Olividae). The latter has been found in association with gray whale foraging grounds but not documented in a prey study (Jenkinson 2001). We also get an appreciable amount of interference from non-prey taxa, most notably barnacles (Balanidae), with an honorable mention to hydrozoans (Clytiidae, Corynidae). While easy to dismiss as background environmental DNA, as gray whales do forage at the benthos, these taxa were physically present and identifiable in Nerini’s (1984) gray whale stomach content evaluation.

So—can we conclude that barnacles and hydrozoans are an important part of a gray whale’s diet, as much as mysids? From decades of previous observations, we might say…probably not. Gray whales are actively targeting patches of crabby, shrimpy zooplankton things, and even employ novel foraging strategies to do so (Newell & Cowles 2006; Torres et al. 2018). However, the sheer diversity of consumed species does present additional dimensionality to our understanding of gray whale ecology.

The whales are eating these ancillary organisms, whether they intend to or not, and this probably does influence population dynamics, recruitment, and succession in these nearshore benthic habitats. After all, the shallow pits that gray whales leave behind post-feeding provide a commensal trophic link with other predatory taxa, including seabirds and groundfish (Oliver & Slattery 1985). Perhaps the consumption of these collateral species affects gray whale energetics and reflects on their “performance”?

I hope to address all of this and more in some capacity with my published work and graduate chapters. I’m confident to declare that we can document diet composition of PCFG whales using dDNA metabarcoding, but what comes next is where one can get lost in the sea(weeds). How does the diet of individuals compare to one another? What about at differing time points? Age groups? How many calories are in a barnacle? No need to fret—this is where the fun begins!

References

Chavez F, Min M, Pitz K, Truelove N, Baker J, LaScala-Grunewald D, Blum M, Walz K,

Nye C, Djurhuus A, et al. 2021. Observing Life in the Sea Using Environmental

DNA Oceanog. 34(2):102–119. doi:10.5670/oceanog.2021.218.

Collins R, Wangensteen OS, O’Gorman EJ, Mariani S, Sims DW, Genner M. 2018. Persistence

of environmental DNA in marine systems. Comm Biol. 1(185).

https://doi.org/10.1038/s42003-018-0192-6

Ficetola GF, Miaud C, Pompanon F, Taberlet P. 2008. Species detection using

environmental DNA from water samples. Biol Lett. 4(4):423–425.

doi:10.1098/rsbl.2008.0118.

Hildebrand L, Bernard KS, Torres LG. 2021. Do Gray Whales Count Calories?

Comparing Energetic Values of Gray Whale Prey Across Two Different Feeding

Grounds in the Eastern North Pacific. Front Mar Sci. 8:683634.

doi:10.3389/fmars.2021.683634.

Jenkinson R. 2001. Gray whale (Eschrichtius robustus) prey availability and feeding ecology in

northern California, 1999-2000 [thesis]. California State Polytechnic University,

Humboldt. 81 p.

Newell CL, Cowles TJ. 2006. Unusual gray whale Eschrichtius robustus feeding in the summer

of 2005 off the central Oregon Coast. Geophys Res Lett. 33(22):L22S11.

doi:10.1029/2006GL027189.

Oliver JS, Slattery PN. 1985. Destruction and Opportunity on the Sea Floor: Effects of

Gray Whale Feeding. Ecology. 66(6):1965–1975. doi:10.2307/2937392.

Sousa LL, Silva SM, Xavier R. 2019. DNA metabarcoding in diet studies: Unveiling

ecological aspects in aquatic and terrestrial ecosystems. Environmental DNA.

1(3):199–214. doi:10.1002/edn3.27.

Sousa LL, Xavier R, Costa V, Humphries NE, Trueman C, Rosa R, Sims DW, Queiroz N.

2016. DNA barcoding identifies a cosmopolitan diet in the ocean sunfish. Sci

Rep. 6(1):28762. doi:10.1038/srep28762.

Torres LG, Nieukirk SL, Lemos L, Chandler TE. 2018. Drone Up! Quantifying Whale Behavior

From a New Perspective Improves Observational Capacity. Front Mar Sci. 5:319.

doi:10.3389/fmars.2018.00319.

University of Otago. 2019. First eDNA study of Loch Ness points to something fishy.

https://www.otago.ac.nz/news/news/otago717609.html. [accessed 2023 Apr 25]

The costs and benefits of automated behavior classification

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

“Why don’t you just automate it?” This is a question I am frequently asked when I tell someone about my work. My thesis involves watching many hours of drone footage of gray whales and meticulously coding behaviors, and there are plenty of days when I have asked myself that very same question. Streamlining my process is certainly appealing and given how wide-spread and effective machine learning methods have become, it is a tempting option to pursue. That said, machine learning is only appropriate for certain research questions and scales, and it’s important to consider these before investing in using a new tool.

The application of machine learning methods to behavioral ecology is called computational ethology (Anderson & Perona, 2014). To identify behaviors from videos, the model tracks individuals across video frames and identifies patterns of movement that form a behavior. This concept is similar to the way we identify a whale as traveling if it’s moving in a straight line and as foraging if it’s swimming in circles within a small area (Mayo & Marx, 1990, check out this blog to learn more). The level of behavioral detail that the model is able to track  depends on the chosen method (Figure 1, Pereira et al., 2020). These methods range from tracking each animal as a simple single point (called a centroid) to tracking the animal’s body positioning in 3D (this method is called pose estimation), which range from providing less detailed to more detailed behavior definitions. For example, tracking an individual as a centroid could be used to classify traveling and foraging behaviors, while pose estimation could identify specific foraging tactics. 

Figure 1. Figure from Pereira et al. (2020) illustrating the different methods of animal behavior tracking that are possible using machine learning.

Pose estimation involves training the machine learning algorithm to track individual anatomical features of an individual (e.g., the head, legs, and tail of a rat), meaning that it can define behaviors in great detail. A behavior state could be defined as a combination of the angle between the tail and the head, and the stride length. 

For example, Mearns et al. (2020) used pose estimation to study how zebrafish larvae in a lab captured their prey. They tracked the tail movements of individual larvae when presented with prey and classified these movements into separate behaviors that allowed them to associate specific behaviors with prey capture (Figure 2). The authors found that these behaviors occurred in a specific sequence, that the behaviors kept the prey within the larvae’s line of sight, and that the sequence was triggered by visual cues.  In fact, when they removed the visual cue of the prey, the larvae terminated the behavior sequence, meaning that the larvae are continually choosing to do each behavior in the sequence, rather than the sequence being one long behavior event that is triggered only by the initial visual cue. This study is a good example of the applicability of machine learning models for questions aimed at kinematics and fine-scale movements. Pose estimation has also been used to study the role of facial expression and body language in rat social communication (Ebbesen & Froemke, 2021). 

Figure 2. Excerpt from figure 1 of Mearns et al. (2020) illustrating (A) the camera set up for their experiment, (B) how the model tracked the eye angles and tail of the larvae fish, (C) the kinematics extracted from the footage. In panel (C) the top plot shows how the eyes converged on the same object (the prey) during prey capture event, the middle plot shows when the tail was curved to the left or the right, and the bottom plot shows the angle of the tail tip relative to the body.

While previous machine learning methods to track animal movements required individuals to be physically marked, the current methods can perform markerless tracking (Pereira et al., 2020). This improvement has broadened the kinds of studies that are possible. For example, Bozek et al., (2021) developed a model that tracked individuals throughout an entire honeybee colony and showed that certain individual behaviors were spatially distributed within the colony (Figure 3). Machine learning enabled the researchers to track over 1000 individual bees over several months, a task that would be infeasible for someone to do by hand. 

Figure 3. Excerpt from figure 1 of Bozek et al., (2021) showing how individual bees and their trajectories were tracked.

These studies highlight that the potential benefits of using machine learning when studying fine scale behaviors (like kinematics) or when tracking large groups of individuals. Furthermore, once it’s trained, the model can process large quantities of data in a standardized way to free up time for the scientists to focus on other tasks.

While machine learning is an exciting and enticing tool, automating behavior detection via machine learning could be its own PhD dissertation. Like most things in life, there are costs and benefits to using this technique. It is a technically difficult tool, and while applications exist to make it more accessible, knowledge of the computer science behind it is necessary to apply it effectively and correctly. Secondly, it can be tedious and time consuming to create a training dataset for the model to “learn” what each behavior looks like, as this step involves manually labeling examples for the model to use. 

As I’ve mentioned in a previous blog, I came quite close to trying to study the kinematics of gray whale foraging behaviors but ultimately decided that counting fluke beats wasn’t necessary to answer my behavioral research questions. It was important to consider the scale of my questions (as described in Allison’s blog) and I think that diving into more fine-scale kinematics questions could be a fascinating follow-up to the questions I’m asking in my PhD. 

For instance, it would be interesting to quantify how gray whales use their flukes for different behavior tactics. Do gray whales in better body condition beat their flukes more frequently while headstanding? Does the size of the fluke affect how efficiently they can perform certain tactics? While these analyses would help quantify the energetic costs of different behaviors in better detail, they aren’t necessary for my broad scale questions. Consequently, taking the time to develop and train a pose estimation machine learning model is not the best use of my time.

That being said, I am interested in applying machine learning methods to a specific subset of my dataset. In social behavior, it is not only useful to quantify the behaviors exhibited by each individual but also the distance between them. For example, the distance between a mom and her calf can be indicative of the calves’ dependence on its mom (Nielsen et al., 2019). However, continuously measuring the distance between two individuals throughout a video is tedious and time intensive, so training a machine learning model could be an effective use of time. I plan to work with an intern this summer to develop a machine learning model to track the distance between pairs of gray whales in our drone footage and then relate this distance data with the manually coded behaviors to examine patterns in social behavior (Figure 4).  Stay tuned to learn more about our progress!

Figure 4. A mom and calf pair surfacing together. Image collected under NOAA/NMFS permit #21678

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References

Anderson, D. J., & Perona, P. (2014). Toward a Science of Computational Ethology. Neuron84(1), 18–31. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neuron.2014.09.005

Bozek, K., Hebert, L., Portugal, Y., Mikheyev, A. S., & Stephens, G. J. (2021). Markerless tracking of an entire honey bee colony. Nature Communications12(1), 1733. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41467-021-21769-1

Ebbesen, C. L., & Froemke, R. C. (2021). Body language signals for rodent social communication. Current Opinion in Neurobiology68, 91–106. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.conb.2021.01.008

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 Zoology68(10), 2214–2220. https://doi.org/10.1139/z90-308

Mearns, D. S., Donovan, J. C., Fernandes, A. M., Semmelhack, J. L., & Baier, H. (2020). Deconstructing Hunting Behavior Reveals a Tightly Coupled Stimulus-Response Loop. Current Biology30(1), 54-69.e9. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cub.2019.11.022

Nielsen, M., Sprogis, K., Bejder, L., Madsen, P., & Christiansen, F. (2019). Behavioural development in southern right whale calves. Marine Ecology Progress Series629, 219–234. https://doi.org/10.3354/meps13125

Pereira, T. D., Shaevitz, J. W., & Murthy, M. (2020). Quantifying behavior to understand the brain. Nature Neuroscience23(12), 1537–1549. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41593-020-00734-z

Learning the right stuff – examining social transmission in humans, monkeys, and cetaceans

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

The start of a new school year is always an exciting time. Like high school, it means seeing friends again and the anticipation of preparing to learn something new. Even now, as a grad student less focused on coursework, the start of the academic year involves setting project timelines and goals, most of which include learning. As I’ve been reflecting on these goals, one of my dad’s favorite sayings has been at the forefront of my mind. As an overachieving and perfectionist kid, I often got caught up in the pursuit of perfect grades, so the phrase “just learn the stuff” was my dad’s reminder to focus on what matters. Getting good grades didn’t matter if I wasn’t learning. While my younger self found the phrase rather frustrating, I have come to appreciate and find comfort in it. 

Given that my research is focused on behavioral ecology, I’ve also spent a lot of time thinking about how gray whales learn. Learning is important, but also costly. It involves an investment of energy (a physiological cost, Christie & Schrater, 2015; Jaumann et al., 2013), and an investment of time (an opportunity cost). Understanding the costs and benefits of learning can help inform conservation efforts because how an individual learns today affects the knowledge and tactics that the individual will use in the future. 

Like humans, individual animals can learn a variety of tactics in a variety of ways. In behavioral ecology we classify the different types of learning based on the teacher’s role (even though they may not be consciously teaching). For example, vertical transmission is a calf learning from its mom, and horizontal transmission is an individual learning from other conspecifics (individuals of the same species) (Sargeant & Mann, 2009). An individual must be careful when choosing who to learn from because not all strategies will be equally efficient. So, it stands to reason than an individual should choose to learn from a successful individual. Signals of success can include factors such as size and age. An individual’s parent is an example of success because they were able to reproduce (Barrett et al., 2017). Learning in a population can be studied by assessing which individuals are learning, who they are learning from, and which learned behaviors become the most common.

An example of such a study is Barrett et al. (2017) where researchers conducted an experiment on capuchin monkeys in Costa Rica. This study centered around the Panama ́fruit, which is extremely difficult to open and there are several documented capuchin foraging tactics for processing and consuming the fruit (Figure 1). For this study, the researchers worked with a group of monkeys who lived in a habitat where the fruit was not found, but the group included several older members who had learned Panamá fruit foraging tactics prior to joining this group. During a 75-day experiment, the researchers placed fruits near the group (while they weren’t looking) and then recorded the tactics used to process the fruit and who used each tactic. Their results showed that the most efficient tactic became the most common tactic over time, and that age-bias was a contributing factor, meaning that individuals were more like to copy older members of the group. 

Figure 1. Figure from Barrett et al. (2017) showing a capuchin monkey eating a Panamá fruit using the canine seam technique.

Social learning has also been documented in dolphin societies. A long-term study on wild bottlenose dolphins in Shark Bay, Australia assessed how habitat characteristics and the foraging behaviors used by moms and other conspecifics affected the foraging tactics used by calves (Sargeant & Mann, 2009). Interestingly, although various factors predicted what foraging tactic was used, the dominant factor was vertical transmission where the calf used the tactic learned from its mom (Figure 2). Overall, this study highlights the importance of considering a variety of factors because behavioral diversity and learning are context dependent.

Figure 2. Figure from Sargeant & Mann (2009) showing that the probability of a calf using a tactic was higher if the mother used that tactic.

Social learning is something that I am extremely interested in studying in our study population of gray whales in Oregon. While studies on social learning for such long-lived animals require a longer study period than of the span of our current dataset, I still find it important to consider the role learning may play. One day I would love to delve into the different factors of learning by these gray whales and answer questions such as those addressed in the studies I described above. Which foraging tactics are learned? How much of a factor is vertical transmission? Considering that gray whale calves spend the first few months of the foraging season with their mothers I would expect that there is at least some degree of vertical transmission present. Furthermore, how do environmental conditions affect learning? What tactics are learned in good vs. poor years of prey availability? Does it matter which tactic is learned first? While the chances that I’ll get to address these questions in the next few years are low, I do think that investigating how tactic diversity changes across age groups could be a good place to start. As I’ve discussed in a previous blog, my first dissertation chapter will focus on quantifying the degree of individual specialization present in my study group. After reading about age-biased learning, I am curious to see if older whales, as a group, use fewer tactics and if those tactics are the most energetically efficient.

The importance of understanding learning is related to that of studying individual specialization, which can allows us to estimate how behavioral tactics might change in popularity over time and space. We could then combine this with knowledge of how tactics are related to morphology and habitat and the associated energetic costs of each tactic. This knowledge would allow us to estimate the impacts of environmental change on individuals and the population. While my dissertation research only aims to provide a few puzzle pieces in this very large and complicated gray whale ecology puzzle, I am excited to see what I find. Writing this blog has both inspired new questions and served as a good reminder to be more patient with myself because I am still, “just learning the stuff”.

Little whale, big whale, swimming in the water: A quick history on how aerial photogrammetry has revolutionized the ability to obtain non-invasive measurements of whales

Dr. KC Bierlich, Postdoctoral Scholar, OSU Department of Fisheries, Wildlife, & Conservation Sciences, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab

The morphology and body size of an animal is one of the most fundamental factors for understanding a species ecology. For instance, fish body size and fin shape can influence its habitat use, foraging behavior, prey type, physiological performance, and predator avoidance strategies (Fig 1). Morphology and body size can thus reflect details of an individual’s current health, likelihood of survival, and potential reproductive success, which directly influences a species life history patterns, such as reproductive status, growth rate, and energetic requirements. Collecting accurate morphological measurements of individuals is often essential for monitoring populations, and recent studies have demonstrated how animal morphology has profound implications for conservation and management decisions, especially for populations inhabiting anthropogenically-altered environments (Miles 2020) (Fig. 1). For example, in a study on the critically endangered European eel, De Meyer et al. (2020) found that different skulls sizes were associated with different ecomorphs (a local variety of a species whose appearance is determined by its ecological environment), which predicted different diet types and resulted with some ecomorphs having a greater exposure to pollutants and toxins than others. However, obtaining manual measurements of wild animal populations can be logistically challenging, limited by accessibility, cost, danger, and animal disturbance. These challenges are especially true for large elusive animals, such as whales that are often in remote locations, spend little time at the surface of the water, and their large size can preclude safe capture and live handling.

Figure 1. Top) A pathway framework depicting how the morphology of an animal influences its habitat use, behavior, foraging, physiology, and performance. These traits all affect how successful an animal is in its environment and can reflect an individual’s current health, likelihood of survival, and potential reproductive success. This individual success can then be scaled up to assess overall population health, which in turn can have direct implications for conservation. Bottom) an example of morphological differences in fish body size and fin shape from Walker et al. (2013). Fineness ratio (f) = length of body ­÷ max body width. 

Photogrammetry is a non-invasive method for obtaining accurate morphological measurements of animals from photographs. The two main types of photogrammetry methods used in wildlife biology are 1) single camera photogrammetry, where a known scale factor is applied to a single image to measure 2D distances and angles and 2) stereo-photogrammetry, where two or more images (from a single or multiple cameras) are used to recreate 3D models. These techniques have been used on domestic animals to measure body condition and estimate weight of dairy cows and lactating Mediterranean buffaloes (Negretti et al., 2008; Gaudioso et al., 2014) and on wild animals to measure sexual dimorphism in Western gorillas (Breuer et al., 2007), shoulder heights of elephants (Schrader et al., 2006), nutritional status of Japanese macaques (Kurita et al., 2012), and the body condition of brown bears (Shirane et al., 2020). Over 70 years ago, Leedy (1948) encouraged wildlife biologists to use aerial photogrammetry from aircraft for censusing wild animal populations and their habitats, where photographs can be collected at nadir (straight down) or an oblique angle, and the scale can be calculated by dividing the focal length of the camera by the altitude or by using a ratio of selected points in an image of a known size. Indeed, aerial photogrammetry has been wildly adopted by wildlife biologists and has proven useful in obtaining measurements in large vertebrates, such as elephants and whales.

Whitehead & Payne (1978) first demonstrated the utility of using aerial photogrammetry from airplanes and helicopters as a non-invasive technique for estimating the body length of southern right whales. Prior to this technique, measurements of whales were traditionally limited to assessing carcasses collected from scientific whaling operations, or opportunistically from commercial whaling, subsistence hunting, stranding events, and bycatch. Importantly, aerial photogrammetry provides a method to collect measurements of whales without killing them. This approach has been widely adopted to obtain body length measurements on a variety of whale and dolphin species, including bowhead whales (Cubbage & Calambokidis, 1987), southern right whales (Best & Rüther, 1992), fin whales (Ratnaswamy and Wynn, 1993), common dolphins (Perryman and Lynn, 1993), spinner dolphins (Perryman & Westlake 1998), and killer whales (Fearnbach et al. 2012). Aerial photogrammetry has also been used to measure body widths to estimate nutritive condition related to reproduction in gray whales (Perryman and Lynn, 2002) and northern and southern right whales (Miller et al., 2012). However, these studies collected photographs from airplanes and helicopters, which can be costly, limited by weather and infrastructure to support aircraft research efforts and, importantly, presents a potential risk to wildlife biologists (Sasse 2003). 

The recent advancement and commercialization of unoccupied aircraft systems (UAS, or drones) has revolutionized the ability to obtain morphological measurements from high resolution aerial photogrammetry across a variety of ecosystems (Fig. 2). Drones ultimately bring five transformative qualities to conservation science compared to airplanes and helicopters: affordability, immediacy, quality, efficiency, and safety of data collection. Durban et al. (2015) first demonstrated the utility of using drones for non-invasively obtaining morphological measurements of killer whales in remote environments. Since then, drone-based morphological measurements have been applied to a wide range of studies that have increased our understanding on different whale populations. For example, Leslie et al. (2020) used drone-based measurements of the skull to distinguish a unique sub-species of blue whales off the coast of Chile. Groskreutz et al. (2019) demonstrated how long-term nutritional stress has limited body growth in northern resident killer whales, while Stewart et al. (2021) found a decrease in body length of North Atlantic Right whales since 1981 that was associated with entanglements from fishing gear and may be a contributing factor to the decrease in reproductive success for this endangered population. 

Drone imagery is commonly used to estimate the body condition of baleen whales by measuring the body length and width of individuals. Recently, the GEMM Lab used body length and width measurements to quantify intra- and inter-seasonal changes in body condition across individual gray whales (Lemos et al., 2020). Drones have also been used to measure body condition loss in humpback whales during the breeding season (Christiansen et al., 2016) and to compare the healthy southern right whales to the skinnier, endangered North Atlantic right whales (Christiansen et al., 2020). Drone-based assessments of body condition have even been used to measure how calf growth rate is directly related to maternal loss during suckling (Christiansen et al., 2018), and even estimate body mass (Christiansen et al., 2019). 

Drone-based morphological measurements can also be combined with whale-borne inertial sensing tag data to study the functional morphology across several different baleen whale species. Kahane-Rapport et al. (2020) used drone measurements of tagged whales to analyze the biomechanics of how larger whales require longer times for filtering the water through their baleen when feeding. Gough et al. (2019) used size measurements from drones and swimming speeds from tags to determine that a whale’s “walking speed” is 2 meters per second – whether the largest of the whales, a blue whale, or the smallest of the baleen whales, an Antarctic minke whale. Size measurements and tag data were combined by Segre et al. (2019) to quantify the energetic costs of different sized whales when breaching. 

Taken together, drones have revolutionized our ability to obtain morphological measurements of whales, greatly increasing our capacity to better understand how these animals function and perform in their environments. These advancements in marine science are particularly important as these methods provide greater opportunity to monitor the health of populations, especially as they face increased threats from anthropogenic stressors (such as vessel traffic, ocean noise, pollution, fishing entanglement, etc.) and climate change. 

Drone-based photogrammetry is one of the main focuses of the GEMM Lab’s project on Gray whale Response to Ambient Noise Informed by Technology and Ecology (GRANITE). This summer we have been collecting drone videos to measure the body condition of gray whales feeding off the coast of Newport, Oregon (Fig. 2). As we try to understand the physiological stress response of gray whales to noise and other potential stressors, we have to account for the impacts of overall nutritional state of each individual whale’s physiology, which we infer from these body condition estimates. 

Figure 2. Drones can help collect images of whales to obtain morphological measurements using photogrammetry and help us fill knowledge gaps for how these animals interact in their environment and to assess their current health. Bottom photo is an image collected by the GEMM Lab of a gray whale being measured in MorphoMetriX software to estimate its body condition. 

References

Best, P. B., & Rüther, H. (1992). Aerial photogrammetry of southern right whales, Eubalaena australis. Journal of Zoology228(4), 595-614.

Breuer, T., Robbins, M. M., & Boesch, C. (2007). Using photogrammetry and color scoring to assess sexual dimorphism in wild western gorillas (Gorilla gorilla). American Journal of Physical Anthropology134(3), 369–382. https://doi.org/10.1002/ajpa.20678 

Christiansen, F., Vivier, F., Charlton, C., Ward, R., Amerson, A., Burnell, S., & Bejder, L. (2018). Maternal body size and condition determine calf growth rates in southern right whales. Marine Ecology Progress Series592, 267–281. 

Christiansen, F. (2020). A population comparison of right whale body condition reveals poor state of North Atlantic right whale, 1–43. 

Christiansen, F., Dujon, A. M., Sprogis, K. R., Arnould, J. P. Y., & Bejder, L. (2016). Noninvasive unmanned aerial vehicle provides estimates of the energetic cost of reproduction in humpback whales. Ecosphere7(10), e01468–18. 

Christiansen, F., Sironi, M., Moore, M. J., Di Martino, M., Ricciardi, M., Warick, H. A., … Uhart, M. M. (2019). Estimating body mass of free-living whales using aerial photogrammetry and 3D volumetrics. Methods in Ecology and Evolution10(12), 2034–2044. 

Cubbage, J. C., & Calambokidis, J. (1987). Size-class segregation of bowhead whales discerned through aerial stereo-photogrammetry. Marine Mammal Science3(2), 179–185. 

De Meyer, J., Verhelst, P., & Adriaens, D. (2020). Saving the European Eel: How Morphological Research Can Help in Effective Conservation Management. Integrative and Comparative Biology23, 347–349. 

Gaudioso, V., Sanz-Ablanedo, E., Lomillos, J. M., Alonso, M. E., Javares-Morillo, L., & Rodr\’\iguez, P. (2014). “Photozoometer”: A new photogrammetric system for obtaining morphometric measurements of elusive animals, 1–10.

Gough, W. T., Segre, P. S., Bierlich, K. C., Cade, D. E., Potvin, J., Fish, F. E., … Goldbogen, J. A. (2019). Scaling of swimming performance in baleen whales. Journal of Experimental Biology222(20), jeb204172–11. 

Groskreutz, M. J., Durban, J. W., Fearnbach, H., Barrett-Lennard, L. G., Towers, J. R., & Ford, J. K. B. (2019). Decadal changes in adult size of salmon-eating killer whales in the eastern North Pacific. Endangered Species Research40, 1 

Kahane-Rapport, S. R., Savoca, M. S., Cade, D. E., Segre, P. S., Bierlich, K. C., Calambokidis, J., … Goldbogen, J. A. (2020). Lunge filter feeding biomechanics constrain rorqual foraging ecology across scale. Journal of Experimental Biology223(20), jeb224196–8. 

Leedy, D. L. (1948). Aerial Photographs, Their Interpretation and Suggested Uses in Wildlife Management. The Journal of Wildlife Management12(2), 191. 

Lemos, L. S., Burnett, J. D., Chandler, T. E., Sumich, J. L., and Torres, L. G. (2020). Intra- and inter-annual variation in gray whale body condition on a foraging ground. Ecosphere 11.

Leslie, M. S., Perkins-Taylor, C. M., Durban, J. W., Moore, M. J., Miller, C. A., Chanarat, P., … Apprill, A. (2020). Body size data collected non-invasively from drone images indicate a morphologically distinct Chilean blue whale (Balaenoptera musculus) taxon. Endangered Species Research43, 291–304. 

Miles, D. B. (2020). Can Morphology Predict the Conservation Status of Iguanian Lizards? Integrative and Comparative Biology

Miller, C. A., Best, P. B., Perryman, W. L., Baumgartner, M. F., & Moore, M. J. (2012). Body shape changes associated with reproductive status, nutritive condition and growth in right whales Eubalaena glacialis and E. australis. Marine Ecology Progress Series459, 135–156. 

Negretti, P., Bianconi, G., Bartocci, S., Terramoccia, S., & Verna, M. (2008). Determination of live weight and body condition score in lactating Mediterranean buffalo by Visual Image Analysis. Livestock Science113(1), 1–7. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.livsci.2007.05.018 

Ratnaswamy, M. J., & Winn, H. E. (1993). Photogrammetric Estimates of Allometry and Calf Production in Fin Whales, \emph{Balaenoptera physalus}. American Society of Mammalogists74, 323–330. 

Perryman, W. L., & Lynn, M. S. (1993). Idendification of geographic forms of common dolphin(\emph{Delphinus Delphis}) from aerial photogrammetry. Marine Mammal Science9(2), 119–137. 

Perryman, W. L., & Lynn, M. S. (2002). Evaluation of nutritive condition and reproductive status of migrating gray whales (\emph{Eschrichtius robustus}) based on analysisof photogrammetric data. Journal Cetacean Research and Management4(2), 155–164. 

Perryman, W. L., & Westlake, R. L. (1998). A new geographic form of the spinner dolphin, stenella longirostris, detected with aerial photogrammetry. Marine Mammal Science14(1), 38–50. 

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Segre, P. S., Potvin, J., Cade, D. E., Calambokidis, J., Di Clemente, J., Fish, F. E., … & Goldbogen, J. A. (2020). Energetic and physical limitations on the breaching performance of large whales. Elife9, e51760.

Shirane, Y., Mori, F., Yamanaka, M., Nakanishi, M., Ishinazaka, T., Mano, T., … Shimozuru, M. (2020). Development of a noninvasive photograph-based method for the evaluation of body condition in free-ranging brown bears. PeerJ8, e9982. https://doi.org/10.7717/peerj.9982 

Shrader, A. M., M, F. S., & Van Aarde, R. J. (2006). Digital photogrammetry and laser rangefinder techniques to measure African elephants, 1–7. 

Stewart, J. D., Durban, J. W., Knowlton, A. R., Lynn, M. S., Fearnbach, H., Barbaro, J., … & Moore, M. J. (2021). Decreasing body lengths in North Atlantic right whales. Current Biology.

Walker, J. A., Alfaro, M. E., Noble, M. M., & Fulton, C. J. (2013). Body fineness ratio as a predictor of maximum prolonged-swimming speed in coral reef fishes. PloS one8(10), e75422.

The learning curve never stops as the GRANITE project begins its seventh field season

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

When I thought about what doing fieldwork would be like, before having done it myself, I imagined that it would be a challenging, but rewarding and fun experience (which it is). However, I underestimated both ends of the spectrum. I simultaneously did not expect just how hard it would be and could not imagine the thrill of working so close to whales in a beautiful place. One part that I really did not consider was the pre-season phase. Before we actually get out on the boats, we spend months preparing for the work. This prep work involves buying gear, revising and developing protocols, hiring new people, equipment maintenance and testing, and training new skills. Regardless of how many successful seasons came before a project, there are always new tasks and challenges in the preparation phase.

For example, as the GEMM Lab GRANITE project team geared up for its seventh field season, we had a few new components to prepare for. Just to remind you, the GRANITE (Gray whale Response to Ambient Noise Informed by Technology and Ecology) project’s field season typically takes place from June to mid-October of each year. Throughout this time period the field team goes out on a small RHIB (rigid hull inflatable boat), whenever the weather is good enough, to collect photo-ID data, fecal samples, and drone imagery of the Pacific Coast Feeding Group (PCFG) gray whales foraging near Newport, OR, USA. We use the data to assess the health, ecology and population dynamics of these whales, with our ultimate goal being to understand the effect of ambient noise on the population. As previous blogs have described, a typical field day involves long hours on the water looking for whales and collecting data. This year, one of our exciting new updates is that we are going out on two boats for the first part of the field season and starting our season 10 days early (our first day was May 20th). These updates are happening because a National Science Foundation funded seismic survey is being conducted within our study area starting in June. The aim of this survey is to assess geophysical structures but provides us with an opportunity to assess the effect of seismic noise on our study group by collecting data before, during, and after the survey. So, we started our season early in order to capture the “before seismic survey” data and we are using a two-boat approach to maximize our data collection ability.

While this is a cool opportunistic project, implementing the two-boat approach came with a new set of challenges. We had to find a second boat to use, buy a new set of gear for the second boat, figure out the best way to set up our gear on a boat we had not used before, and update our data processing protocols to include data collected from two boats on the same day. Using two boats also means that everyone on the core field team works every day. This core team includes Leigh (lab director/fearless leader), Todd (research assistant), Lisa (PhD student), Ale (new post-doc), and me (Clara, PhD student). Leigh and Todd are our experts in boat driving and working with whales, Todd is our experienced drone pilot, I am our newly certified drone pilot, and Lisa, Ale, and myself are boat drivers. Something I am particularly excited about this season is that Lisa, Ale, and I all have at least one field season under our belts, which means that we get to become more involved in the process. We are learning how to trailer and drive the boats, fly the drones, and handling more of the post-field work data processing. We are becoming more involved in every step of a field day from start to finish, and while it means taking on more responsibility, it feels really exciting. Throughout most of graduate school, we grow as researchers as we develop our analytical and writing skills. But it’s just as valuable to build our skillset for field work. The ocean conditions were not ideal on the first day of the field season, so we spent our first day practicing our field skills.

For our “dry run” of a field day, we went through the process of a typical day, which mostly involved a lot of learning from Leigh and Todd. Lisa practiced her trailering and launching of the boat (figure 1), Ale and Lisa practiced driving the boat, and I practiced flying the drone (figure 2). Even though we never left the bay or saw any whales, I thoroughly enjoyed our dry run. It was useful to run through our routine, without rushing, to get all the kinks out, and it also felt wonderful to be learning in a supportive environment. Practicing new skills is stressful to say the least, especially when there is expensive equipment involved, and no one wants to mess up when they’re being watched. But our group was full of support and appreciation for the challenges of learning. We cheered for successful boat launchings and dockings, and drone landings. I left that day feeling good about practicing and improving my drone piloting skills, full of gratitude for our team and excited for the season ahead.

Figure 1. Lisa (driving the truck) launching the boat.
Figure 2. Clara (seated, wearing a black jacket) landing the drone in Ale’s hands.

All the diligent prep work paid off on Saturday with a great first day (figure 3). We conducted five GoPro drops (figure 4), collected seven fecal samples from four different whales (figure 5), and flew four drone flights over three individuals including our star from last season, Sole. Combined, we collected two trifectas (photo-ID images, fecal samples, and drone footage)! Our goal is to get as many trifectas as possible because we use them to study the relationship between the drone data (body condition and behavior) and the fecal sample data (hormones). We were all exhausted after 10 hours on the water, but we were all very excited to kick-start our field season with a great day.

Figure 3. Lisa on the bow pulpit during our first sighting of the day.
Figure 4. Lisa doing a GoPro drop, she’s lowering the GoPro into the water using the line in her hands.
Figure 5. Clara and Ale collecting a fecal sample.

On Sunday, just one boat went out to collect more data from Sole after a rainy morning and I successfully flew over her from launching to landing! We have a long season ahead, but I am excited to learn and see what data we collect. Stay tuned for more updates from team GRANITE as our season progresses!

The right tool for the job: examining the links between animal behavior, morphology and habitat

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

In order to understand a species’ distribution, spatial ecologists assess which habitat characteristics are most often associated with a species’ presence. Incorporating behavior data can improve this analysis by revealing the functional use of each habitat type, which can help scientists and managers assign relative value to different habitat types. For example, habitat used for foraging is often more important than habitat that a species just travels through. Further complexity is added when we consider that some species, such as gray whales, employ a variety of foraging tactics on a variety of prey types that are associated with different habitats. If individual foraging tactic specialization is present, different foraging habitats could be valuable to specific subgroups that use each tactic. Consequently, for a population that uses a variety of foraging tactics, it’s important to study the associations between tactics and habitat characteristics.

Lukoschek and McCormick’s (2001) study investigating the spatial distribution of a benthic fish species’ foraging behavior is a great example of combining data on behavior, habitat, and morphology.  They collected data on the diet composition of individual fish categorized into different size classes (small, medium, and large) and what foraging tactics were used in which reef zones and habitat types. The foraging tactics ranged from feeding in the water column to digging (at a range of depths) in the benthic substrate. The results showed that an interesting combination of fish behavior and morphology explained the observed diet composition and spatial distribution patterns. Small fish foraged in shallower water, on smaller prey, and primarily employed the water column and shallow digging tactics. In contrast, large fish foraged in deep water, on larger prey, and primarily fed by digging deeper into the seafloor (Figure 1). This pattern is explained by both morphology and behavior. Morphologically, the size of the feeding apparatus (mouth gape size) affects the size of the prey that a fish can feed on. The gape of the small fish is not large enough to eat the larger prey that large fish are able to consume. Behaviorally, predation risk also affects habitat selection and tactic use. Small fish are at higher risk of being predated on, so they remain in shallow areas where they are more protected from predators and they don’t dig as deep to forage because they need to be able to keep an eye out for predators. Interestingly, while they found a relationship between the morphology of the fish and habitat use, they did not find an association between specific feeding tactics and habitat types.

Figure 1. Figure from Lukoschek and McCormick (2001) showing that small fish (black bar) were found in shallow habitat while large fish (white bar) were found in deep habitat.

Conversely, Torres and Read (2009) did find associations between theforaging tactics of bottlenose dolphins in Florida Bay, FL and habitat type. Dolphins in this bay employ three foraging tactics: herd and chase, mud ring feeding, and deep diving. Observations of the foraging tactics were linked to habitat characteristics and individual dolphins. The study found that these tactics are spatially structured by depth (Figure 2), with deep diving occurring in deep water whereas mud ring feeding occurrs in shallower water. They also found evidence of individual specialization! Individuals that were observed deep diving were not observed mud ring feeding and vice-versa. Furthermore, they found that individuals were found in the habitat type associated with their preferred tactic regardless of whether they were foraging or not. This result indicates that individual dolphins in this bay have a foraging tactic they prefer and tend to stay in the corresponding habitat type. These findings are really intriguing and raise interesting questions regarding how these tactics and specializations are developed or learned. These are questions that I am also interested in asking as part of my thesis.

Figure 2. Figure from Torres and Read (2009) showing that deep diving is associated with deeper habitat while mud ring feeding is associated with shallow habitat.

Both of these studies are cool examples that, combined, exemplify questions I am interested in examining using our study population of Pacific Coast Feeding Group (PCFG) gray whales. Like both studies, I am interested in assessing how specific foraging tactics are associated with habitat types. Our hypothesis is that different prey types live in different habitat types, so each tactic corresponds to the best way to feed on that prey type in that habitat. While predation risk doesn’t have as much of an effect on foraging gray whales as it does on small benthic fish, I do wonder how disturbance from boats could similarly affect tactic preference and spatial distribution. I am also curious to see if depth has an effect on tactic choice by using the morphology data from our drone-based photogrammetry. Given that these whales forage in water that is sometimes as deep as they are long, it stands to reason that maneuverability would affect tactic use. As described in a previous blog, I’m also looking for evidence of individual specialization. It will be fascinating to see how foraging preference relates to space use, habitat preference, and morphology.

These studies demonstrate the complexity involved in studying a population’s relationship to its habitat. Such research involves considering the morphology and physiology of the animals, their social, individual, foraging, and predator-prey behaviors, and the relationship between their prey and the habitat. It’s a bit daunting but mostly really exciting because better understanding each puzzle piece improves our ability to estimate how these animals will react to changing environmental conditions.

While I don’t have any answers to these questions yet, I will be working with a National Science Foundation Research Experience for Undergraduates intern this summer to develop a habitat map of our study area that will be used in this analysis and potentially answer some preliminary questions about PCFG gray whale habitat use patterns. So, stay tuned to hear more about our work this summer!

References

Lukoschek, V., & McCormick, M. (2001). Ontogeny of diet changes in a tropical benthic carnivorous fish, Parupeneus barberinus (Mullidae): Relationship between foraging behaviour, habitat use, jaw size, and prey selection. Marine Biology, 138(6), 1099–1113. https://doi.org/10.1007/s002270000530

Torres, L. G., & Read, A. J. (2009). 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, 25(4), 797–815. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1748-7692.2009.00297.x

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.

Stories from a whale’s life: how whale photo-identification is an essential part of the whale physiology toolkit

By Alejandro Fernandez Ajo, PhD student at the Department of Biology, Northern Arizona University, Visiting scientist in the GEMM Lab working on the gray whale physiology and ecology project  

Two years ago, in August 2018, I came to Newport and visited the Hatfield Marine Science Center for the first time with an NSF/RCN-founded laboratory exchange with the GEMM Lab and met Dr. Leigh Torres. My goals during this exchange where to learn about non-invasive fieldwork techniques for studying free-range whales while interacting, exchanging ideas, and networking with the GEMM Lab members; also, to discuss some projects and thoughts for future collaborations with Dr. Torres. During those two weeks in Newport, I had the opportunity to help with field work on the project “Evaluation of gray whale ecology and physiology in response to variable ambient ocean noise conditions”, which aims to evaluate the hormonal variability and health of the gray whales that forage along the Oregon coast in the context of multiple stressors. I would return during the summers of 2019 and 2020 as a visiting scientist and research assistant to work on this project. This year the experience has been a bit different in terms of interactions with the HMSC community due to COVID-19; however, we were able to successfully start the field season in time and now we are wrapping up our second month of surveys with many new and interesting data gathered, and many new, unforgettable memories to be treasured. Working with these animals is incredibly fascinating because there are so many things we don´t know about them, and the questions can become both overwhelming and exciting.

An essential part of this project, and arguably any research project done with cetaceans, is the identification of individuals. Hence, considerable effort is expended each year attempting to photograph every gray whale possible within our study region and to identify each whale we encounter. The GEMM Lab maintains a catalog of the gray whales that visit the Oregon coast, a sub-population known as the Pacific Coast Feeding Group (PCFG). This catalog currently consists of 173 individuals. which we frequently compare with a larger catalog of gray whales that includes 2060 individuals observed since 1977 (Cascadia Research Collective). These methods allow us to know who is who among the whales we encounter each day at sea.

The different species of cetaceans can be individually identified by markings on their bodies, very much like fingerprints in humans. Some features on these animals are unique and conserved through life. For example, Southern and Northern right whales are identified by the callosity patters in their heads (Picture 1), while humpback whales are mostly identified individually by the shape and the patterns of black and white pigmentation on the underside of their fluke (Picture 2). Gray whales have very mottled skin coloration, so we use a combination of markings and features to identify individuals: pigmentation patterns, scars, shape and pigmentation of their fluke, and sometimes the shape of their knuckles, which are a series of “humps” that gray whales have instead of a dorsal fin on their back. It might sound very difficult to do, and it can be a tedious task, however as you train your eye it becomes easier, and features that at first seemed undistinguishable become recognizable and unique (Picture 3). As a reward, it is such a joy to find a match and recognize old friends when they arrive from their long journeys in the vast ocean each year to the Oregon coast.

The callosity pattern of a southern right whale. Photo by Alejandro Fernández Ajó – Instituto de Conservación de Ballenas.
Three different humpback whales with notably different pigmentation patterns on their flukes. Photographs captured under NOAA/NMFS permit #21678.
The gray whale “Knife” we have observed frequently this summer off the Oregon coast. Can you see how the right pigmentation pattern identified looks like a knife? Photograph captured under NOAA/NMFS permit #21678.

As a result of our photo-identification efforts and the high site-fidelity of the whales we study, the large majority of the gray whales we observe here in Oregon are known individually. For many whales, we also have detailed sightings records that can span years and decades, that document calving history, lactation, appearance of scars indicative of injury or entanglement, minimum age, sex, habitat-use patterns, behaviors, etc. Holding such detailed information of individual whales provides incredible contributions to our understanding of the basic patterns in life history of whales, such as reproduction rates, calving intervals, age of first reproduction, etc. Moreover, when these life history events are linked with physiological sample collection large steps can be made in the development and validation of physiological methods. Many endocrine assays currently in use for whales are based on non-traditional sample types including feces, respiratory vapor, and baleen, which have been validated using the catalogs of well-known individuals to verify that measured hormones reflect patterns expected for various physiological states. For example, we can compare endocrine data of confirmed pregnant females, known mature males, and known-injured whales to learn how whale physiological responses are different during different life history events (e.g., Burgess et al. 2017, 2018, Corkeron et al. 2017, Hunt et al. 2006, 2016, 2018, Lysiak et al. 2018, Rolland et al. 2005).

Here in Oregon we are learning from the lives of the gray whales we study, and here I want to share with you two of their stories, one happy and one not-so-happy.

Let´s start with the not-so-happy story so we can end with some brighter news. On June 24 this year, we encountered a whale near Cape Foulweather, which is a very tricky area to work as there are many rocks and shallow water that make the sea conditions very choppy even with low swell. We started documenting the sighting as usual, taking pictures of the left side, the right side and ideally also the fluke of the whale. As we approached this whale, we started noting that something was wrong with its fluke. With the challenging sea conditions, it was not easy to approach the whale and the whale was not exposing its fluke when diving. When we put our drone up to collect photogrammetry and behavior data we gained a much better perspective. This whale has a bad injury on it fluke (Picture 4.C). On the boat we started making conjectures about the cause of this terrible injury that had basically amputate most of its left fluke lobe. Once back on shore, we sorted out the photos and compared the field images captured during the day with the photo-ID catalog and we made a match. This whale is known in our catalog as “ROLLER SKATE”, is a female, and was first sighted in 2015, so she is at least 5 years old today.

The story unfolded when we reviewed Roller Skate’s sighting history. Interestingly we observed this same whale in the same location last September 2019. Unfortunately, it was a very brief encounter but enough for photo documentation of the whale and an interesting observation. Here I quote the field notes that Dr. Torres wrote from this sighting: “September 6th, 2019. Sighting 9: Scattered whales feeding and/or traveling across area to north of Cape Foulweather. One whale had recently chopped fluke; tried to re-find to get better photos but could not (looking at photos now, this whale is clearly entangled in line!). Ceiling too low for UAS [drone flight].” (Picture 4.B).

Progressive photos of Roller Skate’s fluke. In 2017, her fluke was healthy (A). In 2019, we observed her fluke with a line entanglement and “chewed up” (B). In 2020, we have observed the resulting wound and healing process (C). Photographs captured under NOAA/NMFS permit #21678.

Roller skate’s story is an example of how essential is to keep an ID catalog. After a close-up examination of the 2019 picture, we can clearly see a rope entanglement (Picture 4.B). Photos from previous years show how beautiful and healthy her fluke was before this event (Picture 4.A). This event is heart breaking to witness, but this whale could be considered lucky because she was able to shed the gear and survive this entanglement, at least in the short term. Additionally, we can learn from Roller Skate’s misfortune to help us understand what the consequences of such an injury (stressor) may be on the physiology of a whale. We have been eager to collect a fecal sample from Roller Skate to analyze how her hormone levels compare to non-injured whales. Fortunately, we got lucky a couple weeks ago and collected this sample, so now we need to get in the lab and analyze the samples. But more questions remain: Will this injury impact her ability to reproduce? If so, for how long? And at a larger scale, what are the population consequences of such events? If we can understand the magnitude of lethal and sublethal human caused impacts on individual whales and their populations from events such as entanglements, we can develop better methods to mitigate and limit such hazards for whales in their environments.

As I promised, there is also some good news to share. A very well-known PCFG whale, almost a celebrity I dear to say, is “Scarback”, or as we like to call her “Scarlett”. Scarlett is a female known since 1996, making her at least 24 years old, and she also has a very bad injury of unknown origin. Scarlett has a terrible scar on her back that is theorized to have been caused by an explosive harpoon, or maybe a bad ship-strike (Picture 5), but we really do not know. However, we do know she survived this injury and this year she brought a new calf into the population (Picture 6). This is the second calf we have documented from Scarlett, with her previous calf sighted during the 2016 field season and we call it “Brown”. Scarlett is an example of how resilient these amazing giants can be; however, it is likely that while she was recovering from this injury, she was unable to reproduce. How many calves from Scarlett did the PCFG population “lose” due to such a tragedy? We can´t know, but we are learning, and her story will also help us understand whale physiology as we will analyze her fecal hormones and body condition during pregnancy, lactation, and resting phases.

The scar on Scarlett’s back. This significant wound has an unknown origin. Photograph captured under NOAA/NMFS permit #21678.

Scarlett is a survivor. We need to recognize that we are sharing the ocean with different forms of life. We need to acknowledge their existence and understand how our use of the oceans is affecting them, and, more importantly, work toward improving their conditions. I hope that with our research we highlight and communicate how amazing are these animals, and how important are they for marine ecosystems. And ultimately, I hope our work helps minimize the impacts that affect other forms of ocean life that coexist with us, both above and below the surface.

The well-known gray whale “Scarlett” surfaces under her calf while it checks out the GEMM Lab field team. Photo by Alejandro Fernandez Ajo taken under NOAA/NMFS permit #21678.

References:

Burgess, E., Hunt, K. E., Kraus, S. D. and Rolland, R. M. (2016). Get the most out of blow hormones: validation of sampling materials, field storage and extraction techniques for whale respiratory vapor samples. Conservation Physiology, 4, cow024.

Burgess, E. A., Hunt, K. E., Kraus, S. D. and Rolland, R. M. (2018). Quantifying hormones in exhaled breath for physiological assessment of large whales at sea. Scientific Reports, 8, 10031.

Corkeron, P. J., Rolland, R. M., Hunt, K. E. and Kraus, S. D. (2017). A right whale PooTree: Fecal hormones and classification trees identify reproductive states in North Atlantic right whales (Eubalaena glacialis). Conservation Physiology, 5, cox006. DOI: 10.1093/conphys/cox006.

Hunt, K., Lysiak, N., Moore, M. and Rolland, R. (2017). Multi-year longitudinal profiles of cortisol and corticosterone recovered from baleen of North Atlantic right whales (Eubalaena glacialis). General and Comparative Endocrinology, 254, 50-59. DOI: 10.1016/j.ygcen.2017.09.009.

Hunt, K., Lysiak, N. S. J., Matthews, C. J. D., et al. (2018). Multi-year patterns in testosterone, cortisol and corticosterone in baleen from adult males of three whale species. Conservation Physiology, 6, coy049. DOI: 10.1093/conphys/coy049.

Hunt, K. E., Rolland, R. M., Kraus, S. D. and Wasser, S. K. (2006). Analysis of fecal glucocorticoids in the North Atlantic Right Whale (Eubalaena glacialis). General and Comparative Endocrinology, 148, 260-272.

Lysiak, N., Trumble, S., Knowlton, A. and Moore, M. (2018). Characterizing the duration and severity of fishing gear entanglement on a North Atlantic right whale (Eubalaena glacialis) using stable isotopes, steroid and thyroid hormones in baleen. Frontiers in Marine Science. DOI: 10.3389/fmars.2018.00168.

Rolland, R. M., Hunt, K. E., Kraus, S. D. and Wasser, S. K. (2005). Assessing reproductive status of right whales (Eubalaena glacialis) using fecal hormone metabolites. General and Comparative Endocrinology, 142, 308-317.