We Totally Love Scientists
We at OnEarth unapologetically extoll the virtues of sound science — data that help us see the world as it is, as distinct from how we might like it to be. We do so especially now, when a crazy 1,000-ring media circus so often obscures rather than enlightens us on critical issues. Thus the reemergent scourge of climate deniers, the rewriting of science textbooks, and general confusion about what science actually is and does. We, however, prefer to celebrate human passion and inquisitiveness, which lead us to a deeper understanding of the natural world. Our cover story, by Bruce Barcott , set in the Bering Sea off the coast of Alaska, offers a fascinating blend of adventure and science. Fishing boats in these icy, turbulent waters venture out to catch shiploads of pollock, from which is made, among other things, your McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish sandwich. But in the course of catching pollock, these boats also capture other types of marine animals — unwanted fish, birds, and mammals that make up the collateral damage known as bycatch. Barcott went aboard such a ship, the Pacific Prince , to see biologist Monica Brennan at work. She is one of hundreds of professional bycatch observers who go out to sea to count fish — in her case, pollock as well as bycatch such as king salmon, halibut, and other species. As these are netted and pulled from the frigid sea, Brennan, covered in rain gear and splattered with fish guts, painstakingly takes their measurements. The data she and others collect allow fishery managers and marine scientists to accurately assess the health of various fish populations and prevent their depletion. Contributing editor Tim Folger profiles another seeker of data, retired probation officer and amateur scientist Dave Bertelsen, who has hiked the same 10-mile trail through Arizona’s Sonoran Desert an astonishing 1,270 times during the past three decades. On those treks he jotted down 195,000 observations concerning hundreds of species of local plants and animals: there another curved-bill thrasher or Gambel’s quail, here a bloated saguaro or blooming ocotillo. His meticulously recorded trove is being mined by a team of scientists at the University of Arizona in Tucson to better understand the impact of climate change on the desert — a landscape seemingly immutable, yet surprisingly fragile and changeable. We are more than ever awash in data, especially digital information. How much power, we wondered, is required to store, retrieve, and transport these countless terabytes? And can this energy be generated in a cleaner, more efficient way? This question is explored by contributing editor Alan Burdick , who transforms himself into the Synthesist — that’s the name of his new column, which will appear in every issue (and monthly at onearth.org) — to examine intriguing intersections of culture, technology, and the environment. Enjoy our feast of data. Used wisely, may it benefit us all, whether creatures of the air, land, or sea.
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We Totally Love Scientists
Battle to Preserve Baja’s Whale Nursery Celebrated, but Threats Remain
"…. for there is no splendor greater than the gray when the light turns it to silver ." — Homero Aridjis, The Eye of the Whale Ten years ago this month, the Mexican government — under intense pressure from environmentalists — announced it was canceling a proposed industrial salt factory at Baja’s Laguna San Ignacio. The lagoon serves as the last undeveloped birthing habitat for the eastern Pacific population of gray whales, which were hunted almost to extinction a century ago and continue to make a tentative recovery. (Their Atlantic cousins succumbed to overhunting and have disappeared from the seas.) The sudden and surprising decision to scrap the saltworks was a landmark victory for U.S. and Mexican environmental groups, including the Natural Resources Defense Council, which had been fighting for five years to stop the joint venture between Mexico and Japan’s Mitsubishi Corporation. When many of the key participants in that fight gathered last week for a reunion at the remote lagoon, it was clear that ongoing efforts to protect this unique part of the Vizcaíno Biosphere Reserve were having a profound impact. At game parks on the African Serengeti, humans go to view wildlife - but here in Baja, the wildlife comes to you. The gray whales were out to greet everyone, some 200 strong for twice-daily whale watches, exhaling a heart-shaped mist as they chuffed past the panga boats. They sometimes approached close enough for onlookers to touch or even rub the baleen inside their mouths. "A magical gift, transcending time," as Mexican poet and environmental leader Homero Aridjis described one two-hour visit on the water. Gray whales make one of the longest migrations in the animal kingdom, traveling 5,000 miles or more from sunny Baja to the cold Arctic, where they feed during the long days of summer. But they mate and give birth primarily in a few special lagoons along the Baja coast. The two other habitats they frequent have already seen considerable development, including a large saltworks. San Ignacio alone remains pristine. Had the salt project gone forward here, it would have meant a mile-long concrete pier across the whales’ migratory path and diesel engines pumping 6,000 gallons of sea water per second into 116 square miles of diked salt evaporation ponds. Given the many other threats facing the 17,000 remaining gray whales — from deafening Navy sonar to climate change impacts on their food supply — industrial expansion into this nursery would likely have proven disastrous. During the anniversary gathering last week, a symposium to discuss future steps for protecting the area drew a standing-room-only crowd of well over 100 people to one of the lagoon’s nine eco-tourist campgrounds. "This past decade has been a watershed moment in the way we lived and perceived ourselves," said Josele Varela, president of the new Rural Association of Collective Interests and one of a number of local community members from among the lagoon’s 205 families giving presentations. In 2004, lagoon residents formed an alliance with some of the 36 other biosphere reserves in Mexico to exchange information. These are sites designated for their natural beauty to foster sustainable development. "With this alliance, we’ve been able to learn new ecological methods," said Raul Lopez. New projects at the lagoon include oyster aquaculture and an award-winning effort to grow and restore mangrove forests. Such efforts by the lagoon’s six ejidos (communal land cooperatives) have been bolstered by the Laguna San Ignacio Conservation Alliance, which is also comprised of five outside NGO’s — NRDC, International Fund for Animal Welfare, International Community Foundation, Wildcoast, and Pronatura. "I think we’re about halfway to where we want to be, in terms of increased protections for the lagoon," said Jacob Scherr, NRDC’s director of international programs.The purchase of conservation easements now protects roughly 140,000 acres on the lagoon’s eastern side, he said. "We’ve also gotten a commitment from the national government to preserve about 100,000 acres of federal lands on the other side of the lagoon." However, as marine biologist Steven Swartz put it, "I think we need to remain vigilant." Mitsubishi and its Mexican counterpart, Exportadora de Sal (ESSA), still maintain the legal right to renew their proposal. A year after the saltworks project was halted, according to Scherr, "without any real fanfare ESSA renewed that concession for another 50 years. We became aware of this and are now in the process of trying to have it nullified." Mark Spalding, director of the Ocean Foundation, which fiscally sponsors the Laguna San Ignacio Ecosystem Science Program, adds: "The land conservation easements and other land purchases have been very strategic, in hopes of making it extremely difficult for Exportadora to revive the project. But future oil or gas development is still a real risk here." A proposal to improve or even pave the rough road that runs 37 miles from the town of San Ignacio to the lagoon is under consideration by Baja authorities. The local community would, of course, benefit from quicker access to fish markets and medical facilities. But many fear better roads would also increase the likelihood of development. "They want to keep the flavor of a wilderness experience, because that’s part of the allure," said Swartz. Scientists are also studying the potential noise impacts of construction, especially on the lagoon’s bird population. Swartz’s ongoing census of the lagoon’s gray whales found an increase during this winter’s mating and breeding season, from 193 at the 2009 peak to upwards of 260 now. However, the number of mothers with newborns appears to have fallen. And although scientists are seeing fewer skinny whales than last year, concerns remain about the gray whales’ food supply in the warming Arctic. Due to climate change, the tiny crustaceans called amphipods upon which they customarily feed at the end of their 5,000-mile-long migration have disappeared from the traditional sites, forcing the whales to range even farther north. "So there is nutritional stress, and some whales have lost all their body fat," Swartz told the symposium. Still, a decade after the saltworks was stopped, "the basic integrity of the area has been maintained," according to NRDC’s Scherr. "At the end of the day, you can never preserve a place unless you have the local people with you. That’s what’s been such an important part of the story of Laguna San Ignacio." Among the "friendly" grays this March, that was true cause for celebration.
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Famous Frogs That Escaped California Fire Threatened by Mudslides, Red Tape
In the hills outside of Los Angeles, a fire burned for five weeks last fall, killing two firefighters, destroying 89 homes, and leaving an area about a quarter the size of Rhode Island scorched and smelling of ash. Yet there are survivors in this charred wasteland — ground squirrels, crows, and to the great surprise of biologists who found them nestled in one rocky creek just outside the burn area, a population of frogs thought to be nearly extinct in Southern California They’re members of a species known as the California red-legged frog. About the size of a child’s baseball glove, with powerful crimson-dappled legs and bulging black-and-yellow eyes, they are the largest frog species west of the Mississippi. But having narrowly escaped the flames, as well as human development and a disease that has pushed them to the very brink of existence, this endangered frog lies in the path of yet another life-threatening hazard — the coming rains. The post-fire, poorly vegetated landscape is prone to flooding, which could signal the end for the lonely red-legged frog. Life wasn’t always so precarious. The pools and creeks in these parts once teemed with red-legged frogs; during California’s gold rush, they were a staple of the gold miner’s diet: frog leg stew, grilled frog legs, frog leg fricassee. They even starred in Mark Twain’s short story "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County." But unfortunately for the frogs, the foothills and canyons of coastal California are where people want to live, too. As development boomed during the second part of the 20th century, the red-legged frog population dropped by 90 percent. By 2003, scientists knew of only about 40 left in the entire southern part of their range, which stretches from Los Angeles County south to Baja. Biologists have been looking for other populations in this region for the past 10 years but have come up empty handed — until what’s known as the Station Fire subsided in early September. Soon after it burned out, a team from the U.S. Geological Survey went in to assess the ecological damage. While following the course of a small creek, the biologists stumbled on a series of small pools in the Angeles National Forest teeming with red-legged frogs. "It is really exciting," says Adam Backlin, a USGS biologist who has been monitoring the newfound population, which could number as many as 300. "This population may have a lot of genetic diversity that has been lost elsewhere." The discovery represents a rare piece of good news for amphibians as a whole. "Pretty much anywhere there are frogs, we’ve been documenting the decline and disappearance of species," says Dr. Vance Vredenburg, an assistant professor of biology at the University of California San Francisco. So Vredenburg is rooting for these survivors. "A lot of projects have shown that if we give them the opportunity, they will come back. And these frogs are hanging on in that area. That gives me some hope that they can expand from this spot." Although the fires are behind them for this season, heavy rains pose another challenge. Rain falling on a scorched landscape gathers dirt, rocks and debris from the naked hillsides and mixes them into a cement-like slurry that can cover several football fields. These mudslides race down canyons and basins at up to 35 miles per hour, leveling everything in their path. The Angeles Forest frogs wouldn’t stand a chance. So Backlin, the USGS biologist, and several state and federal wildlife agencies have been looking into potential rescue operations. "We would normally not advocate removing animals from the wild," Backlin says. "But they’re so rare, so fragmented, and the populations are so small. If we want them to persist, they need to be managed a little more aggressively." Officials considered temporarily relocating the frogs to zoos in Los Angeles or San Diego. Unfortunately, neither zoo can spare the extra money or staff to care for them. What’s more, some of the frogs have tested positive for a fungus called chytrid that is killing off amphibians around the world. Even though many frogs survive the disease and others seem resistant to infection, the stress of captivity can leave frogs more vulnerable to the effects of the fungus. Zoo officials fear that adopting the Angeles Forest frogs could introduce chytrid into their healthy populations. Another option would be moving the frogs into similar habitat nearby that hasn’t burned. But there aren’t many suitable locations, and because the red-legged frog is listed as "threatened" under wildlife regulations, a litany of requirements must be satisfied before the survivors could be relocated — even if that move is necessary to get them out of harm’s way. "Fortunately, we haven’t gotten a big rain out there yet," Backlin says, "but I don’t know if they’ll make it through the whole year." Meteorologists with the AccuWeather forecasting service predict an above-normal rainy season for southern California this winter, due to a strengthening El Nino. And forecasts call for heavy rains to drench much of the Angeles National Forest as early as Monday, with downpours much of the week. For the red-legged frog, that could be a forecast for extinction.
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Famous Frogs That Escaped California Fire Threatened by Mudslides, Red Tape