By: Erin Pickett, M.S. Student, Oregon State University
GEMM lab UPDATE: Amanda Holdman successfully defended her master’s thesis this week!
Amanda wisely planned her defense date for November 7th, 2016, the day before Election Day. As I anxiously watched the New York Times election forecast needle bounce back and forth, from left to right on Election night, I thought to myself, why didn’t I think of that? If you are unfamiliar with what I am talking about, this “forecast needle” was an animated graphic on the NYT website that bounced constantly all night between the two Presidential candidates. It caused a great deal of unease for those of us that found it difficult to look away. The animation sparked some debate online among bloggers and tweeters, my favorite comment being, “it borders on irresponsible data visualization”. I came to the realization pretty quickly on Tuesday night that despite the outcome of the election, I would still need to turn in my thesis the following week.
Personally, I did not feel motivated to get out of bed on Wednesday. I wasn’t feeling inspired, or overcome with positive thoughts about what my day of thesis writing would bring. Thankfully, here at OSU, we graduate students have good leaders to keep us on track. Wednesday afternoon, we received an encouraging email from our Department Head, Dr. Selina Heppell. I took away two important points from this email. The first: stay positive, and remember that we do great work with great people and that our work matters. Secondly, think about the lessons that we have learned from this election. For those of us that were shocked about who our country has chosen as the next President of the United States, one important lesson is that we need to focus more on engaging people who exist outside of the echo chambers of our scientific communities.
The recent election has left many scientists and environmentalists concerned about what the future political climate will bring in terms of research funding, job opportunities, and environmental protection. More so now than ever it is important to remain positive and hopeful, and to reconsider the way we communicate our research and engage outside communities whose views are unlike our own. Both of these tasks are particularly challenging due to the long list of environmental problems we face. As it turns out, having a hopeful outlook is important for tackling seemingly insurmountable conservation issues, and empowering others to want to do the same (Swaisgood & Sheppard 2010, Garnett & Lindenmayer 2011).
The title of this blog comes from an eloquent commencement speech by Paul Hawken about the importance of remaining optimistic when the data tells us otherwise. While the address was given to the University of Portland class of 2009, I think it is worth reading because it is a relevant and moving reminder of why hope is important.
But, before you read that, take a look at what has been done recently to protect biodiversity around the world-
President Obama quadrupled the size of a marine national monument in Hawaii. You can read more about the significance of this monument, called Papahānaumokuākea, in a previous blog of mine.
Soon after announcing the expansion of Papahānaumokuākea, President Obama established the first marine national monument in the Atlantic. You can read more about the aptly named Northeast Canyons and Seamounts Marine National Monument here.
And finally, to top it off, an international body comprised of 24 countries, called the Commission for the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources, recently came to a consensus to designate a vast portion of the Antarctic’s remote Ross Sea as the world’s largest marine reserve.
References
Garnett, S. T., & Lindenmayer, D. B. (2011). Conservation science must engender hope to succeed. Trends in Ecology & Evolution, 26(2), 59-60.
Swaisgood, R. R., & Sheppard, J. K. (2010). The culture of conservation biologists: Show me the hope!. BioScience, 60(8), 626-630.
By Dawn Barlow, MSc student, Oregon State University
The season has shifted since the post I wrote this summer about diving into the world of New Zealand blue whales and the beginnings of my masters research. My fieldwork will take place during the upcoming austral summer, which will require me to miss the winter term here on campus. This quarter, I have put my research on the back burner for the time being in favor of a full load of coursework. But my project is still there, simmering subtly and persistently, and giving relevance to the coursework that I’m focusing my energy on this fall term.
As an undergraduate student, I acquired a broad scientific background and had the opportunity to dabble in the areas of biology that piqued my interest. I arrived here with a basic understanding of chemistry, physics, cell biology, anatomy, marine ecology and conservation biology. I gained experience working in the field with intertidal sea stars, snails, mussels, crabs and barnacles, with bottlenose dolphins and with humpback whales. But now my focus has narrowed as I’ve honed in on the specific questions that I will pursue over the next two years. My passion lies in marine ecology and conservation. Now, as a graduate student studying the ecology of a little-known population in a highly industrial area, this passion can come to fruition. For my masters, I hope to do the following:
A) Use photo-identification analysis to obtain a population abundance estimate for blue whales in New Zealand
B) Investigate blue whale residency and distribution patterns in New Zealand waters
C) Develop a comprehensive blue whale habitat use model for the South Taranaki Bight region of New Zealand, which incorporates physical and biological data
Down the road I hope to have implemented a capture-recapture abundance estimate model that best fits the dynamics of this population of blue whales, to have mapped where sightings have occurred and where the highest densities of blue whales are found in both space and time, and to have paired blue whale presence and absence with prey distribution, remote-sensed environmental data, and in situ oceanographic data. But how does one accomplish these things? I need a toolbox to draw from. And so this fall, I am assembling my toolbox, learning programs and analytical skills. I am taking methods courses—statistics, data management in R, analysis in GIS, methods in physiology and behavior of marine megafauna—that are no longer explorations into the world of natural science, but rather tools for exploring, identifying, and interpreting specific phenomena in ecology. While each comes with its own hiccups and headaches (see Florence’s post about this…), they are powerful tools.
Aside from coursework, the research I’m conducting has gained weight and relevance beyond being an investigation in ecology. My study area lies in the South Taranaki Bight of New Zealand, which is a contentious proposed seabed mining site for iron sands. As an undergraduate student I read case studies and wrote papers on the environmental impacts of industry, and I decided to go graduate school because I want to do research that has direct conservation applications. Last week I compiled all the data I’ve processed on blue whale sightings, seasonal residency, and photo identification for the South Taranaki Bight, which will be included as evidence submitted in environmental court in New Zealand by my advisor, Dr. Leigh Torres. “Applied conservation science” has been an abstract idea that has excited and motivated me for a long time, and now I am partaking in this process, experiencing applied conservation science firsthand.
And so my toolbox is growing, and the scope of my work is simultaneously narrowing in focus and expanding in relevance. The more tools I acquire, the more excited I am to apply them to my research. As I build my toolbox this fall, this process is something I look forward to enhancing while I’m in the field, when I dig deeper into data analysis, and as I grow as a conservation scientist.
The GEMM lab is adventuring out into the wild blue yonder of open ocean sampling and educational outreach! Leigh is the chief scientist onboard the R/V Oceanus for the next two days as we sail through Oregon waters in search of marine megafauna. Also onboard are four local teachers and five high school students who are learning the tricks of the trade. Amanda and I are here to help teach basic oceanography and distance sampling techniques to our enthusiastic students.
We started the morning with safety briefings, and headed out through the Newport breakwater, direction: Stonewall Bank. Stonewall is a local bathymetric feature where upwelling often occurs, leading to a productive ecosystem for both predators and prey. Even though our main sampling effort will be offshore this trip, we didn’t even make out of the harbor before recording our first gray whale and California sea lion sightings.
Our students (and their teachers) are eager and quick to catch on as we teach them new methodologies. Amanda and I had prepared presentations about basic oceanographic and distance sampling methods, but really the best way to learn is to jump in and go. We’ve set up a rotation schedule, and everyone is taking turns scanning the ocean for critters, deploying and recovering the CTD, logging data, and catching plankton.
So far, we have spotted gray whales, sea lions, a pod of (lightning speed) killer whales, lots of seagulls, northern fulmars, sooty shearwaters, storm petrels, and cormorants, but today’s highlight has to the last sighting of ~42 humpback whales. We found them at the Northern edge of Heceta Bank – a large rocky reef which provides structural habitat for a wide variety of marine species. As we approached the area, we spotted one whale, and then another. At first, our spotters had no trouble inputting the data, getting photo-ID shots, and distinguishing one whale from the next, but as we continued, we were soon overwhelmed. With whale blows surrounding us on all sides, it was hard to know where to look first – here a surface lunge, there, a breach, a spout, a fluke, a flipper slap! The surface activity was so dense and enthralling, it took a few moments before realizing there were some sea lions in the feeding frenzy too!
We observed the group, and tried to document as many individuals as possible as the sunset faded into night. When poor visibility put a stop to the visuals, we hurried to do a plankton tow and CTD cast to find some environmental insights for such a gathering. The CTD revealed a stratified water column, with two distinct layers, and the plankton tow brought up lots of diatoms and krill. As one of the goals of this cruise is to explore how marine mammals vary with ocean gradients, this is a pretty cool way to start.
A long day observing has left us all exhausted, but not too tired to share our excitement. Stay tuned for more updates from the briny blue!
Follow this link for real time view of our beautiful ship! : http://webcam.oregonstate.edu/oceanus
By Erin Pickett, MS student, Oregon State University
On January 29, 2016, a group of native Hawaiian community leaders and conservation practitioners wrote a letter of request to President Barack Obama asking him to expand Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument1
Papahānaumokuākea is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and at the time of its creation in 2006, it became the world’s largest fully protected marine area2. The monument encompasses 140,000 square miles and surrounds the Northwestern Hawaiian Island (NWHI) chain, which extends about 2000 km northwest from the main Hawaiian Islands to Kure atoll (see map below). This monument was originally created through use of the Antiquity Act of 1906, which grants the President of the United States the authority to protect valuable public land through the establishment of a national monument3. The initial letter of request sent to President Obama in January called on the President to use his executive power to expand Papahānaumokuākea marine national monument.
This letter of request was put simply. The letter writers believed that as an island boy himself, President Barack Obama understands the importance of the ocean to the people of Hawai’i, especially future generations. This letter and the discussions that have since followed it, emphasize not only the biological value of conserving this large swath of marine habitat, but also the cultural significance of preserving such a place. In the field of marine biology we don’t traditionally think of marine protected areas (MPAs) as “…cultural seascapes that have meaning and significance in the formation and perpetuation of oceanic identity4,” however in the case of the expansion of Papahānaumokuākea, cultural justification is aptly interwoven with biological conservation. The proposed expansion of this marine protected area is especially significant to me for this reason.
While I am not native Hawaiian, much of my life is tied to the ocean. My personal life and my current career as a master’s student of marine science are driven by aloha and malama ‘āina. These two concepts are core tenets of Hawaiian culture and they describe a profound love (aloha) and deep respect and sense of caring (malama) for the āina, or land. I have never felt more aloha or such a strong sense of caring for a place than for Papahānaumokuākea.
Papahānaumokuākea is a sacred place; a place where the Hawaiian people believe life began. Today, the islands, atolls and the surrounding ocean within the monument continue to create and sustain vast quantities of life, in the form of marine species. The use of the monument is limited to cultural, scientific and educational activities, while activities such as commercial fishing and deep-sea mining are prohibited4,5. One primary benefit of large MPAs is that they improve the state of an ecosystem by supporting sufficient numbers of large and far-ranging predators6. The waters surrounding the NWHI support high numbers of large fish, sharks, marine mammals and seabirds. A total of 7,000 known species exist here, 25% of which are endemic7. The expansion of this monument would mean greater protection for these species, and for important pelagic habitats such as seamounts. Underwater seamounts are biodiversity hot spots and a vast number of them exist outside of the current boundaries but within the limits of the proposed expansion of the monument. Far ranging top predators such as seabirds would benefit greatly from an expanded protected area that would reduce the chance of interactions with longline fishing vessels. The foraging ranges of many of the 14 million seabirds that exist in the monument extend beyond its current boundaries4,8. The Hawaiian longline fishery is especially dangerous for Laysan and black-footed albatross, and hooks an estimated 1,000-2,000 of each species per year9.
Large fish such as ulua (bluefin trevally) are common in the NWHI
A white (fairy) tern bringing food back for its growing chick
A Laysan albatross pair with their chick
The Laysan albatross, or mōlī, as it is known in Hawaiian, is the species that captured my attention the most during my time in Papahānaumokuākea. In 2010, I worked for the NOAA/NMFS Hawaiian monk seal research program on Laysan Island. While our work on Laysan was focused on the Hawaiian monk seal, it was hard to miss the energy of the presence of the mōlī. We had the opportunity to observe these birds come to the island to make nests, lay eggs and raise their chicks. The incessant sound of hundreds of thousands of albatross whistling and clicking their beaks at their mates and with their chicks is one I will never forget. You can hear these sounds for yourself in a video that Rachael included in a previous blog post about her time on Midway atoll. On Laysan, I had the opportunity to connect deeply with a natural place and this connection reinforced the feeling of aloha ‘aina.
Planting Kawelu (native bunch grass) on Kure atoll following the removal of other invasive grasses
The endangered Hawaiian monk seal
Marine debris like these can be fatal to Hawaiian monk seals if they become entangled in it
While in the NWHI, we occupied much of our daily life with not only observing and connecting with the wildlife, but also with carrying out conservation activities, such as monitoring the local monk seal population and removing marine debris from beaches. While Laysan is remote, it has not escaped the far reaches of marine plastic pollution (see Rachael’s blog for more on this). Additionally, many of the NWHI are in a perpetual state of restoration and invasive species removal projects. After Laysan, I spent time working on Lisianski Island and then Kure atoll, where we worked tirelessly to eradicate an invasive weed, Verbesina encelioides, and replace it with native plants that we had cultivated. Throughout all of these activities, there was always a feeling that it was our duty to malama ‘aina, to care for and protect these fragile islands and the species that depend on them.
A significant amount of momentum has been gained since January, with one important development being a formal proposal that outlines the main points of this request to the President. These include a request to expand the perimeter of the monument to the limits of the U.S. exclusive economic zone, which lies an additional 150 nm beyond its current boundaries. This expansion would more than quadruple the monument’s current size and make it the world’s largest contiguously protected area. The Obama administration has sent delegates to Hawaii to learn more and has intentions to develop an official federal proposal10. While the timeline of this is unclear, a local coalition of community leaders are actively garnering public support to encourage the Obama administration to sign this expansion into law.
There was a meeting held last night on Kauai to hear public input regarding the proposed expansion of Papahānaumokuākea and because I was not able to attend I was inspired to write this blog to share my thoughts about why I believe further protection of this monument is a pono (moral, just, righteous) decision. The place-based connection I have with Hawai’i and its surrounding waters are what have guided my career in the fields of marine science and conservation. For me, this connection is with Hawai’i, but for you it may your own hometown, island, backyard or nearby mountain peak.
A curious young monk seal pup
Our restoration team on Kure atoll
A red-footed booby on Kure atoll
Our love of these places is significant because it facilitates a greater understanding of why they are important to protect. In the field of conservation today, it is especially critical that we foster these types of connections. Preserving wild places, whether they be remote island ecosystems or more easily accessible nature parks, is one way we can ensure that more people have the opportunity to make these connections.
3 “Antiquities Act” Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia. Wikimedia Foundation, Inc. 4 March 2016. Web. 2 August 2016.
4 Kerr, J., et al. 2016. PUʻUHONUA: A PLACE OF SANCTUARY. The Cultural and Biological Significance of the proposed expansion for the Papahānaumokuākea Marine National Monument.
6 Edgar, Graham J., et al. “Global conservation outcomes depend on marine protected areas with five key features.” Nature 506.7487 (2014): 216-220.
7 National Marine Sanctuaries (2016), National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. Accessed on 01 February 2016: http://sanctuaries.noaa.gov/#PM
8 Papahanaumokuakea Marine National Monument Management Plan 2008; KE Keller, AD Anders, SA Shaffer, MA Kappes, B Flint, and A Friedlander, 2009. Seabirds: A Marine Biogeographic Assessment of the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands.
By: Cathryn Wood, Lawrence University ’17, summer REU in the GEMM Lab
Greetings from Port Orford! My name is Cathryn, and I am the fourth member of the GEMM Lab’s gray whale foraging ecology research team, which includes Florence, Kelli, and the other Catherine (don’t worry, I go by Cat). Nearly 5 weeks into field season, I am still completely amazed with my first West Coast experience and doing what I’ve always dreamt of: studying marine mammals. Coming from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, this may seem slightly out of place, but my mom can attest; she read “Baby Beluga” to me every night when I was a toddler. Now a rising senior majoring in biology at Lawrence University, I’ve been focusing my coursework on aquatic and marine ecology to prepare for graduate school where I plan to specialize in marine science. Being part of this research is a very significant step for me into the field.
So how did I end up here, as part of this amazing project and dream, women-in-science team? I am interning through OSU’s Ocean Sciences REU program at the Hatfield Marine Science Center, where the GEMM Lab is located. REU stands for “Research Experience for Undergraduates”, and is an NSF-funded research internship program found in numerous universities around the country. These internships allow undergrads to conduct independent research projects under the guidance of a faculty mentor at the program’s institution. I applied to several REUs this past winter, and was one of 12 undergrads accepted for the program at HMSC. Each of us is paired with different faculty members to work on various projects that cover a diverse range of topics in the marine sciences; everything from estuarine ecology, to bioacoustics. I was ecstatic to learn that I had been paired with Dr. Torres as my faculty mentor to work on Florence’s gray whale project, which had been my first choice during the application process.
My particular research this summer is going to complement Florence’s master’s thesis work by asking new questions regarding the foraging data. While her project focuses on the behavioral states of foraging whales, I will be looking at the whale tracks to see if there are patterns in their foraging behavior found at the individual level. Traditionally, ecological studies have accepted classical niche theory, treating all individuals within a population as ecological equivalents with the same niche width. Any variances present among individuals are often disregarded as having an insignificant consequence on the population dynamics as a whole, but this simplification can overlook the true complexity of that population . The presence of niche variation among conspecifics is known to occur in at least 93 species across a diverse array of taxa, so the concept of individual specialization, and how it can affect ecological processes is gaining recognition progressively in the field (Bolnick et al., 2003). My goal is to determine whether or not the gray whales in this study, and presumably others in the Pacific Coast Feeding Group (PCFG), exhibit individual specialization in their foraging strategies . There are many ways in which individuals can specialize in foraging, but I will be specifically determining if fine scale spatial patterns in the location of foraging bouts exists, regardless of time.
To address my question, I am using the whale tracking data from both 2015 and 2016, and learning to use some very important software in the spatial ecology world along the way through a method that Dr. Torres introduced to me. Starting in ArcGIS, I generate a kernel density layer of a raw track (Fig. 1 ), which describes the relative distribution of where the tracked whale spent time (Fig. 2 ). Next, using the isopleth function in the software Geospatial Modelling Environment, I generate a 50% density contour line that distinguishes where the whale spent at least 50% of its time during the track (Fig. 3 ). Under the assumption that foraging took place in these high density areas, we use these 50% contour lines to describe foraging bout locations. I now go back to ArcGIS to make centroids within each 50% line, which mark the exact foraging bout locations (Fig. 4 ).
These centroids will be determined for every track by an individual whale, and then compared relative to foraging locations of all tracked whales to determine if the individual is foraging in different locations than the population. Then, the tracks of individuals who repeatedly visit the site at least three times will be compared with one another to determine if the repeat whales show spatial and/or temporal patterns in their foraging bout locations, and if specialization at a fine scale is occurring in this population. If you did not quite follow all those methods, no worries, it was a lot for me to take in at first too. I’ve finally gotten the hang of it though, and am grateful to now have these skills going into grad school.
Because I am interested in behavioral ecology and the concept of individuality in animal populations, I am extremely excited to see how this research plays out. Results could be very eye-opening into the fine scale foraging specialization of the PCFG sub-population because they already demonstrate diet specialization on mysid (as opposed to their counterparts in the Bering Sea who feed on benthic organisms) and large scale individual residency patterns along the Pacific Northwest (Newell, 2009; Calambokidis et al., 2012). Most significantly, understanding how individuals vary in their feeding strategies could have very important implications for future conservation measures for the whales, especially during this crucial foraging season where they replenish their energy reserves. Management efforts geared for an “average population” of gray whales could ultimately be ineffective if in fact individuals vary from one another in their foraging strategies. Taking into account the ways in which variation occurs amongst individuals is therefore crucial knowledge for successful conservation approaches.
My project is unique from those of the other REUs because I am simultaneously in the midst of assisting in field season number two of Florence’s project. While most of the other interns are back at Hatfield spending their days in the lab and doing data analyses like a 9-5 job, I am with the team down in Port Orford for field season. This means we’re out doing research every dawn as weather allows. Though I may never have an early bird bone in my body, the sleepy mornings are totally worth it because ecology field work is my favorite part of research. To read more about our methods in the field, check out Florence’s post.
Since Catherine’s last update, we’ve had an eventful week. To our dismay, Downrigger Debacle 2.0 occurred. (To read about the first one, see Kelli’s post). This time it was not the line – our new line has been great. It was a little wire that connected the downrigger line to the pipe that the GoPro and TDR are connected to. It somehow snapped due to what I presume was stress from the currents. Again, it was Catherine and I in the kayak, with a very successful morning on the water coming to a close when it happened. Again, I was in the bow, and she was in the stern deploying the equipment – very déjà vu. When she reeled in an equipment-less line, we at first didn’t know how to break it to Florence and Kelli who were up on the cliff that day. Eventually, Catherine radioed “Brace yourselves…” and we told them the bad news. Once again, they both were very level-headed, methodical, and un-blaming in the moments to follow. We put together the same rescue dive team as last time, and less than a week later, they set off on the mission using the GPS coordinates I had marked while in the kayak. Apparently, between the dredging taking place in the harbor and the phytoplankton bloom, visibility was only about 2 feet during the dive, but they still recovered the equipment, with nothing but baked goods and profuse thanks as payment. We are very grateful for another successful recovery, and are confident that our new attachment mechanism for the downrigger will not require a third rescue mission (Fig. 6-8). Losing the equipment twice now has taught us some very important things about field work. For one, no matter how sound you assume your equipment to be, it is necessary to inspect it for weak points frequently – especially when salt water and currents are in the picture. Perhaps even more importantly, we’ve gotten to practice our problem solving skills and see firsthand how necessary it is to act efficiently and calmly when something goes wrong. In ecological field research you have to be prepared for anything.
In other news, unlike our slow-whale days during the first two weeks of the project, we have recently had whales to track nearly every day from the cliff! In fact, the same, small, most likely juvenile, whale pictured in Catherine’s last post has returned several times, and we’ve nicknamed her “Buttons” due to two distinguishing white spots on her tail peduncle near the fluke. Though we tend to refer to Buttons as “her”, we cannot actually tell what the sex is definitively…until now. Remember in Catherine’s post when she described how Buttons defecated a lot, and how our team if, given the opportunity, is supposed to collect the feces when we’re out in the kayak for Leila’s project? Everything from hormone levels to reproductive status to, yes, sex, is held in that poop! Well, Miss (or Mr.) Buttons was in Tichenor Cove today, and to our delight, she performed well in the defecation department once again. Florence and I were on cliff duty tracking her and Kelli and Catherine were in Tichenor on the kayak when we first noticed the defecation. I then radioed down to the kayak team to stop what they were doing and paddle quickly to go collect it before it sank (Fig. 9). Even in these situations, it is important to stay beyond 100 yards of the animal, as required by the MMPA. Florence and I cheered them on and our ladies did indeed get the poop sample, without disturbing the whale (Fig. 10). It was a sight to behold.
We were able to track Buttons for the remainder of our time on the cliff, and were extremely content with the day’s work as we packed all the gear up later in the afternoon. Right before we were about to leave, however, Buttons had one more big treat for us. As we looked to the harbor before starting the trek back to the truck, we paused briefly after noticing a large, white splash in the middle of the harbor, not far from the dock. We paused for a second and thought “No, it can’t be, was that —?” and then we see it again and unanimously yelled “BREACH!” Buttons breached about five times on her way back to Tichenor Cove from where she had been foraging in Mill Rocks. It is rare to see a gray whale breach, so this was really special. Florence managed to capture one of the breaches on video:
At first I thought a big ole humpback had arrived, but nope, it was our Buttons! I am in awe of this little whale, and am forever-grateful to be in the presence of these kinds of moments. She’s definitely made her splash here in Port Orford. I think our team has started to as well.
Bolnick, D. I., Svanback, R., Fordyce, J. A., Yang, L. H., Davis, J. M., Hulsey, C. D., & Forrister, M. L. (2003). Ecology of Individuals: Incidence and Implications of Individual Specialization. The American Naturalist, 161(1), 28.
Calambokidis, J., Laake, J. L., & Klimek, A. (2012). Updated analysis of abundance and population structure of seasonal gray whales in the Pacific Northwest, 1998-2010 (Vol. 2010).
Newell, C. (2009). Ecological Interrelationships Between Summer Resident Gray Whales (Eschrichtius robustus) and Their Prey, Mysid Shrimp (Holmesimysis sculpta and Neomysis rayi) along the Central Oregon Coast.
It was March 15th, 2000; Kenneth Balcomb was drinking coffee with his new summer interns in the Bahamas when a goose-beaked whale stranded on a nearby beach. Balcomb, a whale researcher and former U.S. Navy Officer, gently pushed the whale out to sea but the beaked whale kept returning to the shore. He continued this process until a second beaked whale stranding was reported further down the beach; and then a third. Within hours, 17 cetaceans had stranded in the Bahamas trying to escape ‘something’ in the water, and Kenneth Balcomb was determined to solve the mystery of the mass stranding. The cause, he eventually learned, was extreme noise – sonar tests from Navy Warships.
The world is buzzing with the sounds of Earth’s creatures as they are living, interacting, and communicating with one another, even in the darkest depths of the oceans. Beneath the surface of our oceans lies a finely balanced, living world of sound. To whales, dolphins and other marine life, sound is survival; the key to how they navigate, find mates, hunt for food, communicate over vast distances and protect themselves against predators in waters dark and deep. Yet, this symphony of life is being disrupted and sadly destroyed, by today’s increasing noise pollution (Figure 1). Human activities in the ocean have exploded over the past 5 decades with ocean noise rising by 3db per decade (Halpern et al. 2008). People have been introducing more and more noise into the ocean from shipping, seismic surveys for oil and gas, naval sonar testing, renewable energy construction, and other activities. This increased noise has significant impacts on acoustically active and sensitive marine mammals. However, as the Discovery Chanel’s new documentary Sonic Sea points out “The biggest thing about noise in the ocean is that humans aren’t aware of the sound at all.” The increase of ocean noise has transformed the delicate ocean habitat, and has challenged the ability of whales and other marine life to prosper and survive.
Figure 1: Anthropogenic sources contributing to ocean soundscapes and the impacts on marine megafauna survival (sspa.se)
Like the transformative documentary from 10 years ago, An Inconvenient Truth, which highlighted the reality and dangers of climate change, Sonic Sea aims to inform audiences of increased man-made noise in the oceans and the harm it poses to marine animals. The Hatfield Marine Science Center and Oregon Chapter of the American Cetacean Society offered a free, premier showing of the award-winning documentary followed by a scientific panel discussion. The panel featured Dave Mellinger, Joe Haxel, and Michelle Fournet of Oregon State University’s Cooperative Institute for Marine Resources Studies (CIMRS) marine bioacoustics research along with GEMM Lab leader, Leigh Torres, of the Marine Mammal Institute.
Sonic Sea introduces us to this global problem of ocean noise and offers up solutions for change. The film uncovers how better ship design, speed limits for large ships, quieter methods for under water resource exploration, and exclusion zones for sonar training can work to reduce the noise in our oceans. However, these efforts require continued innovation and regulatory involvement to bring plans to action.
Around the world the scientific community, policymakers and authorities such as The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), the European Union (EU), the International Maritime Organization (IMO) and other authorities have increasingly pressed for the reduction of noise. NOAA, which manages and protects marine life in United States waters, is trying to reduce ocean noise through their newly released Ocean Noise Strategy Roadmap, where the challenge is dealt with as a comprehensive issue rather than a case-by-case basis. This undersea map is a 10-year plan that aims to identify areas of specific importance for cetaceans and the temporal, spatial, and frequency of man-made underwater noise. After obtaining a more comprehensive scientific understanding of the distributions and effects of noise in the ocean, these maps can help to develop better tools and strategies for the management and mitigation of ocean noise.
Sonic Sea states “we must protect what we love” but then asks “how we can love it if we don’t understand it?” Here at GEMM Lab and the Marine Mammal Institute, we are trying to understand marine species ecology, distributions and behavioral responses to anthropogenic impacts. One of the suggestions Sonic Sea makes to reduce the impact of ocean noise is to restrict activity in biologically sensitive habitats. Therefore, we must know where these important areas are. In an ideal world, we would have a good inventory of data on the marine animals present in a region and when these animals breed, birth and feed. Then we could use this information to guide marine spatial planning and management to keep noise out of important habitats. My thesis project aims to provide such baseline information on harbor porpoise distribution patterns within a proposed marine energy development site. By filling knowledge gaps about where marine animals can be found and why certain habitats are critical, conservation efforts can be more directed and effective in reducing threats, such as ocean noise, to marine mammals.
Noise in our oceans is hard to observe, but its effects are visibly traumatic and well-documented. Unlike other sources of pollution to our oceans, (climate change, acidification, plastic pollution), which may take years, decades or centuries to dissipate, reducing ocean noise is rather straight forward. “Like a summer night when the fireworks end, our oceans can quickly return to their natural soundscape.” Ocean noise is a problem we can fix. To quiet the world’s waters, we all need to raise our voices so policy makers hear of this problem. That’s what Sonic Sea is all about: increasing awareness of this growing threat and building a worldwide community of citizen advocates to help us turn down the volume on undersea noise. If we sit back and do nothing to mitigate oceanic noise pollution, the problem will likely worsen. I highly suggest watching Sonic Sea. Then, together, we can speak up to turn down the noise that threatens our oceans — and threatens us all.
Sonic Sea airs TONIGHT (6/8) for World Ocean’s Day on Animal Planet at 10pm ET/PT!
By Dr. Leigh Torres, Assistant Professor, Oregon State University, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab
I have been reminded of a lesson I learned long ago: Never turn your back on the sea – it’s always changing.
The blue whales weren’t where they were last time. I wrongly assumed oceanographic patterns would be similar to our last time out in 2014 and that the whales would be in the same area. But the ocean is dynamic – ever changing. I knew this. And I know it better now.
Below (Fig. 1) are two satellite images of sea surface temperature (SST) within the South Taranaki Bight and west coast region of New Zealand that we surveyed in Jan-Feb 2014 and again recently during Jan-Feb 2016. The plot on the left describes ocean surface conditions in 2014 and illustrates how SST primarily ranged between 15 and 18 ⁰C. By comparison, the panel on the right depicts the sea surface conditions we just encountered during the 2016 field season, and a huge difference is apparent: this year SST ranged between 18 and 23 ⁰C, barely overlapping with the 2014 field season conditions.
While whales can live in a wide range of water temperatures, their prey is much pickier. Krill, tiny zooplankton that blue whales seek and devour in large quantities, tend to aggregate in pockets of nutrient-rich, cool water in this region of New Zealand. During the 2014 field season, we encountered most blue whales in an area where SST was about 15 ⁰C (within the white circle in the left panel of Fig. 1). This year, there was no cool water anywhere and we mainly found the whales off the west coast of Kahurangi shoals in about 21 ⁰C water (within the white circle in the right panel of Fig. 1. NB: the cooler water in the Cook Strait in the southeast region of the right panel is a different water mass than preferred by blue whales and does not contain their prey.)
The hot water we found this year across the survey region can likely be attributed, at least in part, to the El Niño conditions that are occurring across the Pacific Ocean currently. El Niño has brought unusually settled conditions to New Zealand this summer, which means relatively few high wind events that normally churn up the ocean and mix the cool, nutrient rich deep water with the hot surface layer water. These are ideal conditions for Kiwi sun-bathers, but the ocean remains highly stratified with a stable layer of hot water on top. However, this stratification does not necessarily mean the ocean is un-productive – it only means that the SST satellite images are virtually useless for helping us to find whales this year.
Although SST data can be informative about ocean conditions, it only reflects what is happening in the thin, top slice of the ocean. Sub-surface conditions can be very different. Ocean conditions during our two survey periods in 2014 and 2016 could be more similar when compared underwater than when viewed from above. This is why sub-surface sensors and data collection is critical to marine studies. Ocean conditions in 2014 and 2016 could both potentially provide good habitat for the whales. In fact, where and when we encountered whales during both 2014 and 2016 we also detected high densities of krill through hydro-acoustics (Fig. 2). However, in 2014 we observed many surface swarms of krill that we rarely saw this recent field season, which could be due to elevated SST. But, we did capture cool drone footage this year of a brief sub-surface foraging event:
An overhead look of a blue whale foraging event as the animal approaches the surface. Note how the distended ventral (throat) grooves of the buccal cavity (mouth) are visible. This is a big gulp of prey (krill) and water. The video was captured using a DJI Phantom 3 drone in the South Taranaki Bight of New Zealand in on February 2, 2016 under a research permit from the New Zealand Department of Conservation (DOC) permit # 45780-MAR issued to Oregon State University.
Below are SST anomaly plots of January 2014 and January 2016 (Fig. 3). These anomaly plots show how different the SST was compared to the long-term average SST across the New Zealand region. As you can see, in 2014 (left panel) SST conditions in our study area were ~1 ⁰C below average, while in 2016 (right panel) SST conditions were ~1 ⁰C above average. So, what are normal conditions? What can we expect next year when we come back to survey again for blue whales across this region? These are challenging questions and illustrate why marine ecology studies like this one must be conducted over many years. One year is just a snap shot in the lifetime of the oceans.
Like all marine megafauna, blue whales move far and fast to adjust their distribution patterns according to ocean conditions. So, I can’t tell you what the ocean will be like in January 2017 or where the whales will be, but as we continue to study this marine ecosystem and its inhabitants our understanding of ocean patterns and whale ecology will improve. With every year of new data we will be able to better predict ocean and blue whale distribution patterns, providing managers with the tools they need to protect our marine environment. For now, we are just beginning to scratch the (sea) surface.
Senior Ranger, Marine – Department of Conservation, Taranaki, New Zealand
During the end of January, I had the privilege to be part of the research team studying blue whales in the South Taranaki Bight, New Zealand. My role, along with assisting with visual survey, was to obtain biopsy samples from whales using a Paxarm modified veterinary rifle. This device fires a plastic dart fitted with a sterilized metal tip that takes a small skin and blubber sample for genetic and stable isotope analysis. This process is very carefully managed following procedures to ensure that the whales are not put under any undue stress. Biopsy sampling provides a gold mine of genetic and dietary information to help us understand the dynamics of this whale population.
Although firing a dart at a creature that is considerably larger than a city bus sounds reasonably easy, it is rarely the case. The first challenge is to find whales within a large expanse of ocean. The team then needs to photograph the side of each animal and take note of any distinctive features so that each individual is only sampled once. Sometimes other work will be undertaken (such as collecting fecal samples, or deploying a drifting hydrophone or unmanned aerial system/drone). Finally the team will attempt to get close enough to the whales, while taking care not to unduly disturb them, to get a biopsy sample. Wind, vessel movement, glare, the length of time whales spend underwater and the small target they sometimes present above the water are further challenges.
The video below shows a successful biopsy attempt. It is a well-coordinated team effort that relies on great communication. You can hear observer Todd Chandler direct the skipper of the vessel Ikatere into position while keeping me (the biopsy sampler) informed as to which whale is surfacing and where. From the vantage point of the flying bridge, Todd can see the whales’ position and movement (my view is limited from the lower deck). Todd points out where the whale is surfacing and it momentarily presents a target. This was the second sample from the two racing whales previously discussed by Dr. Torres, so it will be interesting to see their relationship to one-another.
The ideal angle to approach a whale to take a biopsy sample is from behind at a 45 degree angle, as this causes the least disturbance. The following video was taken from an unmanned aerial system. It shows the vessel Ikatere approaching from the whale’s left flank. Department of Conservation (DOC) biodiversity ranger Mike Ogle is on the bow of the vessel and fires a biopsy dart at the whale. After the biopsy is taken the vessel maneuvers to collect the dart/sample from the water while the whale continues to travel.
In addition to blue whale samples, the DOC permit issued to Oregon State University also allowed for opportunistic sampling of other whales. The following video was taken during an encounter with a large pod of pilot whales. The video shows how the lightweight dart bounces off the animal and floats in the water. Care is taken to communicate its location to the skipper who positions the vessel so it can be retrieved with a net.
Once samples have been retrieved they are handled very carefully to prevent contamination. The sample is split, with some preserved for genetic analysis and the rest for stable isotope analysis. Analysis of genetic samples provides information on sex, abundance (through genetic capture-recapture, which is calculated by analyzing the proportion of individuals repeatedly sampled over subsequent seasons), and relationships to other blue whale populations. Stable isotope analysis provides information on diet. Also, a portion of all samples will be stored for potential future opportunities such as hormone and fatty acid analysis. It blows me away how much information can be gleaned from these tiny samples!
By Dr. Leigh Torres, Assistant Professor, Oregon State University, Geospatial Ecology of Marine Megafauna Lab
Two years ago I documented a blue whale foraging ground in an area of New Zealand called the South Taranaki Bight (STB) – the country’s most industrially active marine area with intense oil and gas exploration and extraction since the 1970’s, elevated vessel traffic, and potential seabed mining (Figure 1). Over just five days of survey effort we observed 50 blue whales and documented foraging behavior. But we still know next to nothing about where and when blue whales are in the STB, how many whales use this area, how important this area is as a feeding area, or to what population the whales belong. Without answers to these questions effective management of human activities in the region to protect the whales and their habitat is unfeasible.
I am now heading back to New Zealand to collect the data needed to answer these questions that will enable successful management. That’s my goal.
Such research costs money. In collaboration with the Bioacoustic Research Program at Cornell University (birds.cornell.edu/brp), we are deploying five hydrophones to listen for blue whales across the region for 2 years. We will conduct vessel surveys for 1 month in each year to find whales and collect data on their habitat, behavior, and individual occurrence patterns. As far as field research projects go, this work is not very expensive, but we still need to pay for vessel time, equipment, and personnel time to collect and analyze the data. This is an ugly truth of scientific research – it costs money and there is not a lot out there.
For two years I’ve had my fund raising hat on (Not my favorite hat. I much prefer my research hat). I believe that industry groups active in the STB should take an active role in supporting the necessary research. They exploit the natural resources in the region and should therefore take responsibility for ensuring the ecosystem’s sustainability and health. Right? They did not agree.
I emphasized to these groups that by supporting the project they would demonstrate their environmental responsibility and ultimately be engaged in discussions of management options based on project findings. Despite hundreds of emails, phone calls and discussions, all the oil and gas companies, the seabed mining group, and the maritime traffic organization declined to fund the project, claiming lack of funds or lack of relevance to their interests. Meanwhile, other groups who prioritize conservation management are supporting the project. I am grateful to The Aotearoa Foundation, The National Geographic Society Waitt Foundation, The New Zealand Department of Conservation, Greenpeace New Zealand, OceanCare, Kiwis Against Seabed Mining, and an anonymous donor.
Lately I have been reading Sheryl Sandberg’s poignant book, Lean In, which I feel is a call to women to take responsibility for our equality and leadership. Those familiar with this book will recognize the opening of my blog title from her valid push for women to take more risks and push ourselves beyond our comfort zones. In many ways I feel I am doing this now. It would be much easier for me to withdraw from this project, say I tried, and let things carry on until someone else takes the challenge. Funding is short, last minute contract issues abound, equipment logistics are running late, I fear political pushback, and I have a sore throat. But it’s time for this project to happen. It’s time to recognize biodiversity’s innate right to healthy habitat. It’s time for industry groups to acknowledge their potential impacts on blue whales through elevated ocean noise, vessel strikes, and habitat degradation and displacement. It’s time for management to have the tools to act.
I remain hopeful that industry groups will engage in this research effort. Through diplomacy, transparency and robust science I want to bring together industry, NGOs, and management groups to develop effective conservation strategies to protect blue whales and their habitat in the STB. Collaboratively we can balance industry activity and biodiversity protection.
Since reading Lean In, I’ve been wondering if the conservation movement suffers because of women’s reluctance to challenge, take risks, and ‘sit at the table’ as Sandberg says. The conservation field is heavily dominated by women. For progress to happen we must be willing to force issues, be perceived as aggressive, and not be nice all the time. Just like men are expected to be.
Over the next four weeks colleagues and I will conduct research in the STB on blue whales. Stay tuned to this blog for updates.
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