Flat Water

Friday morning the water was about as calm as I have seen it. The wind had stopped blowing for a few hours and the swells had nearly disappeared. And so I thought it a good opportunity to take out the staff kayak. I had been meaning to do that for some time now, especially because I had wanted to see if it was practical to take it on a longer distance trip to East or Middle Caicos. I figured out that it's not. It's a sit-on-top boat so it's slow and small, which would mean limited room for supplies and long days of paddling. Not to mention that it doesn't have a backrest, so it would be painful due to leaning forward all day long. Nonetheless, it is good to go around locally, so I took it across the channel to Long Cay.

Long Cay

I crossed directly over to Shark Alley, one of our favorite snorkeling sites, and went around to the outside (the deep ocean side) first. I didn't go far, partly because the boat was so uncomfortable, but partly because my attention was drawn to the sandstone cliffs. Normally when I'm in this area my attention is on things in the water, not adjacent to it. I was seeing things from the perspective of a climber, rather than a diver or snorkeler. There isn't anything too spectacular, but there is a 100 yard stretch that could be made into a great top-roped sport climbing area.

From Long Cay, looking out towards Grand Turk.

Unfortunately there's a shallow rocky base, or there would be potential for deep-water solo climbing (that is, climbing un-roped over water). After scoping things out from the water, I quickly paddled around to a cove where I could get on land for a closer look. The beach that I landed at was, I discovered, a dumping site for poached conch shells. It's illegal to catch conch in the reserve, but it's not uncommon to see people doing it. There was a big pile of shells that I could tell were fresh because of the smell.

The cove I landed at, lined with poached conch shells.

I wasn't able to do any climbing without a partner or any equipment, of course, but it was fun to do a little exploration. I even found what appeared to be the fossil of a palm frond on the ceiling of an overhang. It was easy to get to the top without going over any technical terrain, and from there I had a great view of South and Cockburn Harbour.

My "fossil" isn't as convincing from the photo.

Cockburn Harbour

Fall Break

Today is the last day of the students' Fall Break. In fact, Jessee's just gone to the airport to pick up the first returning group. They're required to vacate the SFS center when not in session, which meant that it's been very quiet for the last several days - a welcomed change.

Since "dive buddies" are easier to come by when nobody has work to be doing, I started off the break with a lot of diving. We took this opportunity to do a little exploratory diving in areas less frequented, including the East Bay Spur (a large prow that juts out into "the blue," dropping off to 1000s of feet deep in all directions), the area between the moorings for Spanish Chain and the Grotto (a relatively unremarkable area, it turns out), and The Catacombs (a series of exciting underwater caves). I also went to a few of our regular spots and saw, most notably, a massive male Hawksbill turtle. Sightings of male turtles are very rare, as they spend most of their time in the open sea, only returning to coastal waters in search of mates. Also on that same dive we found two (possibly three) female Hawksbills, which made me wonder if they had been drawn there by the male.

Male Hawksbill at "The Maze"
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q3Chf-TZe80)

Exiting a cave at "The Catacombs"
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9S43EFsLrE)



Sharpnose Puffer, one of Jessee's favorite fishes because of its odd appearance.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5d4Rjtmaeds)

Female Hawksbill Turtle
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmojSs9qqZo)

Curious Black Jack
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4C_XgU-DS6M)

We also broke out the Scrabble board, and started training to be able to beat my mom (she's really good). Of our three completed games, our standings are Jessee-1, Brett-2. I only wish I had taken a picture of the completed board (for two of the games, anyway). I led off our second game with a 72-point blowout. Jessee regained ground throughout, but couldn't pull ahead before the game ended. Look out mom!

We also did a little knee boarding:

Brett on the Knee Board
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9bUwaGqLaGg)

Scarcity of Shells?

Some students found this confused little hermit crab the other day. I thought it was hilarious.

Pan Fried Conch

Last Thursday was the opening day of the commercial conch season. When I left early in the morning for Bush Cay the fishermen were already hard at work collecting them. I had never seen so many boats on the water just outside of the reserve (literally just a few feet outside), all of them vying to collect the easiest and nearest conch first. We were riding in a DECR (Department of Environment and Coastal Resources) boat, so we got a close look at the activity when the officers stopped to check in on them.

Conch Fishermen

Just the day before we had collected our first few conch and were planning a meal that evening (there is no season for licensed personal consumption, only limits on size and take). "Catching" conch is a somewhat strong way of describing what you do to collect them. They don't move much and they're all over the place. You just swim down and pick them up. The ones we got were just around the anchor at one of our favorite snorkel sites at the south end of Long Cay.

The process from capture to dinner plate is somewhat involved. To remove them from their shell you have to do what is called "knocking" them. Basically, you use a hammer (or other blunt instrument) to smash a hole in the shell, down two rows of spines on the pointed end of the shell. From that hole you gain access to the single tendon that connects the animal to its shell. Snip that with a knife, and you can pull it right out. Then it must be cleaned, which is a slimy disgusting process. In the end you're left with a big chunk of meat and slime coating on your hands that is incredibly difficult to remove.

Watch this video to get an idea of how it all works.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Co8z1oZggtk)

We left a day between this step and the final preparation, cooking, and eating so the unappetizing process described above was less vivid in our minds. In the kitchen we did the final cleaning, removing the unpleasant bits and skin. Then pounded them (quite vigorously) until they were tender, placed them in an oiled pan, and seasoned them with chili powder and some other spices (I didn't see exactly what went in).






It was good to try conch that was not deep fried (it's difficult to get any food on this island that's not deep fried), but I didn't eat much. Only one bite, actually. I never intended to eat much. It's not the most appetizing food if you ask me. I don't really even like clams that much anymore. But the others around the center we're happy to help eat it. For me it was more about the process, and trying a characteristically local food. Next we're planning to catch some lobster and maybe make some conch chowder to go with it.

Waterspout

Just as we were sitting down for lunch today, we noticed a waterspout (basically a tornado over water) forming over the bay adjacent to the center. It wasn't a strong one and it seemed to be heading away from us, so nobody was really alarmed. It was really cool to see! You can't really tell from the photo, but at the base was a large spray cloud.

(if you click the picture, you'll be able to see it better)

Bush Cay

Our visiting researchers departed last Thursday, and I thought I'd get a little down time. I had been so busy collecting fish with them two, sometimes three, times a day. I enjoyed every minute of it, but I was exhausted. Almost right away, however, I got an offer to go with the resident turtle researchers to the far away Bush Cay to check on nesting sites, and I couldn't turn it down.

Map of Bush Cay

Bush Cay

Bush Cay is about as far south in TCI as you can go before ending up in Hispaniola. It took a couple hours to get there by boat. It's a tiny speck of an island, but has about 75 yards of nice sandy beach - prime real estate for turtle nesting. And the beach was covered in tracks. So many that even the most experienced person with us had trouble discerning which turtles had gone where. In all I think we counted 9 individual sets of tracks, including positive nesting sites and a few "false crawls," the oldest being about 30 days and the newest about 1 day. You can actually determine the species that came onto the beach as well. Hawksbills (and the less common Loggerhead) leave tracks with an alternating flipper pattern, whereas Greens leave a symmetrical pattern. Nests can be somewhat difficult to locate, even with tracks, because the turtles cover them well and even attempt to mislead you by leaving tracks to nowhere.

Tracks

Nests that have hatched are slightly more apparent because they are collapsed, leaving a funnel shape above them. We found one of these and decided to excavate - important information about the success of a nest can be gathered that way. We counted the total number of empty shells and the number of early-, mid-, and late-stage undeveloped eggs. This particular nest had a relatively high percentage of undeveloped eggs, leading our researcher to wonder if it had actually been two nests, one right on top of the other and one disrupted by the other. I'm not sure if that is common or if it says something about the availability of nesting sites in the area.

Excavating

Late Stage Undeveloped, gross and stinky!

On the way to and from Bush Cay we passed the Ambergris Cays - one of which (Little Ambergris) is an iguana reserve and the other of which (Big Ambergris) is a privately-owned island and extremely high-end resort: the Turks and Caicos Sporting Club. Their website invites you to "make it yours" with "seaview homesites from $650,000 to $6.5 million USD." We actually docked there at lunch, and one of people in charge of activities invited us to eat there anytime we were in the area if we just called ahead, slyly adding that some of his guests would be really interested to see (and presumably handle and photograph) the turtles we often capture (we had a small Hawksbill on board that we had just caught at a nearby patch reef).

Hawksbill

On the way back we stopped at Fish Cay (the site of regular South Caicos spearfishing the recent shark attack) to check for more tracks and catch any turtles we could. Almost right away we spotted a small Green Turtle from the boat and jumped in after it. Marta (an SFS staffer) and I chased it for a long time before it was tired enough for us to grab it. Well, before it was tired enough for Marta to grab it - I was considerably more tired than it was. The water was pretty deep, so our strategy was to swim above it until it needed air. Unfortunately, it still managed to surface three or four times for a short gasp before we were successful. This one had an especially nice shell.

Green Turtle

We then spent the remainder of the afternoon "Manta towing" around the bay in search of more turtles (a.k.a. we got dragged around by the boat with our snorkel gear). It's usually pretty fun to do that, but I was on there way too long and had breathed too much engine exhaust. You also get surprisingly chilly even in 90 degree water if you stay long enough without actually swimming.

Barcode of Life

I've written a lot about the fish collection process (and about the reservations I have had with it), but not that much about why it's being done. The samples that have been collected here are part of the much larger "Barcode of Life" project. The idea is to catalog every living species in the world with a genetic "barcode." Once it's complete, you will be able to take a sample of any living organism, run it through the barcode process, and get a positive taxonomic identification output. It is different from a genome (where the entire genetic code of an organism is sequenced). Instead, only enough genes to identify the organism are sequenced (saving time and money). But what good is it to be able to identify species in this way? The benefit of having a database of genetic "barcodes" may not be obvious (it wasn't for me).


The truth is, I'm not really all that familiar with the project. I can, however, share some of what I've learned about it in the last few days. First of all, it will be useful in the enforcement of some environmental regulations. Enforcement agencies can (and actually already are) using it to crack down on the illegal fish and "bush meat" trade. For example, just before our Smithsonian visitors came here the director of the project was sent a fillet of fish by the government body that regulates the fish trade (the EPA or FDA?), seized from a distributor suspected of selling an endangered species. By running a sample through the test, he identified the species from an otherwise indistinguishable fillet and informed the regulators whether or not any laws were being broken. In that particular case, it turned out that endangered fish was not being sold (though, I think some labeling laws were probably broken).

Also, the barcode project has been extraordinarily effective if identifying new species. Currently, most taxonomic identification is a visual process. Humans have to physically look at organisms and distinguish them by their anatomy and markings. And humans, of course, make a lot of mistakes. Species can look the same, but be genetically very different. An example is the recently discovered species of Soapfish I mentioned in an earlier post.

Rypticus subbifrenatus

Rypticus sp.

Both of these photos are from the same field ID guide, improperly listed as color variations of the same species. Actually, they are genetically quite different.

Another area where it has been helpful is in the identification of species throughout their lifecycles. Fishes, in particular, can vary dramatically as they transition from larval, through juvenile, intermediate, and terminal phases. I always wondered how anybody ever knew, for example, a juvenile Smooth Trunkfish was actually a Smooth Trunkfish. They don't look anything alike. In the past it required identifying enough specimens in transition to reveal the link or (believe it or not) raising them in captivity and observing the transition! I was told that they are finding that numerous species previously thought to be unique are simply juvenile phases of other known fish. Since genetic code remains the same no matter what phase the species is in, they can always be identified by their genetic barcode.

Juvenile Phase

Terminal Phase

Okay, they resemble each other a little in the photos, but in real life making the connection is much more difficult.

Probably the most exciting application for the barcode of life (at least in my opinion) is still many years from actually being available. I think of it as sort of a field ID "iPhone application," or something like a Star Trek "tri-corder" for identifying species. It would be a handheld genetic sequencer that could instantly pull up all sorts of pertinent information on whatever living thing you can manage to get your hands on (probably easier to use with plants than most animals). I imagine amateur naturalists of the future carrying around these things in place of the visual ID books we use now. It sounds like something that belongs in science fiction, but it turns out that small field sequencers already exist for scientists, and the director of the Smithsonian lab predicts that a consumer friendly version is probably only 10 years away. Once this technology is out there, its potential is huge (Imagine you're a researcher interested in a rare insect. You flag it in the barcode database to be notified each time the record is accessed, an amateur naturalist finds it in the field an runs it through the sequencer out of curiosity, he or she gets all the information they are interested in as well as a personal message from you asking them to collect the data necessary for your research. It's collaborative research taken to a whole new level. It's like wikipedia on steroids).

The Barcode project promises a lot of very exciting things, the extent of which has probably yet to be conceived. Knowing just some of its potential makes me glad that I got the chance to be part of it, if even in the smallest way.

Fish Collection

It has been a non-stop endeavor working with the Smithsonian group. This morning, however, I'm taking some time off from it. Ever since it arrived, the focus has been on using their other chemical, rotenone (the one that kills the fish rather just anesthetizing them). It hugely more effective. Almost devastatingly effective. In fact, on the first outing when it was used, I questioned whether or not I'd continue helping. I eventually decided that I would, but I'm still not entirely comfortable with its effect.

Deployment on our first station.

Rotenone is a substance that occurs naturally in the roots of several plants (one of which is the commonly eaten jícama plant). It has actually been used for 1000s of years by indigenous tribes as a method of catching fish for food. It's a poison, but according to Wikipedia, it's only weakly absorbed through skin and the GI tract. So it's harmless to mammals. For fish, on the other hand, it's readily taken up through the gills and kills them quite quickly. What is being used here is rotenone in powder form. It gets mixed with water and a splash of dish soap (as an emulsifier) to make a sort of dough or thick batter (one of the researchers does this with his bare hands so it's some indication of how certain he is that it won't harm him). Then it gets double-bagged and is ready to be deployed.

The bags are taken down to a selected reef (usually on SCUBA), opened, and slowly shaken empty in the area. Since corals don't have gills, they are completely unaffected. The fish, however, die quickly. It has sort of a shotgun effect, killing everything with gills, whether a sample is needed or not. This is what made it so troubling for me. I don't like seeing things die for no reason. Fortunately, it quickly dilutes and is rendered inert by sunlight, so it doesn't have long lasting or widespread effects. It also mostly only kills small fishes. Anything larger than about 5 or 6 inches can withstand it long enough to swim to safety. Sadly, though, a large fish doesn't mean a large brain. Some big fish, mostly Yellowtail Snappers but also one large Yellowfin Grouper, were lured back into the toxic cloud by the prospect of an easy meal. They see the dead little fish and come swimming back in to gobble them up. If they do it enough times, they get a lethal dose themselves.

This big Yellowfin Grouper couldn't help but go after the easy meal. Not to waste, we took our genetic sample and then ate him for dinner.

This Coney was done in while attempting to down a Peppermint Bass. We also found 4 or 5 other small fish deeper in its throat. Apparently it entered and re-entered the rotenone cloud several times before it died.

After the cloud settles out enough for us to see, we swim in and scoop up the dead fish lying on the ground. Those that are easily identifiable and which have already been collected, are left behind and, eventually, eaten by scavengers (which is harmless even to fish because the toxin is only effective when absorbed through the gills). The affected area is eventually repopulated from neighboring reefs or from unaffected portions of the same reef (the size of rotenone stations being done here is only about 20 or 30 feet). Again, its a matter of viewing it from an ecosystem-wide level or on an individual level - the impact is minimal on the ecosystem, but the impact on individual fish is dramatic.

Its understandable, though, why rotenone is such an important tool for this project - many species just can't be captured in other ways. As you can see from the pictures of the lab, a great diversity is turned up:

Preliminary sorting by appearance before close examination under a microscope.

Waiting to be positively identified: Peppermint Bass, Fairy Basslet, and something with a yellow tail.

Three Tongue Fish

Blue Chromis, Redspotted Hawkfish, and a Juvenile Rock Beauty

Some sort of Brotula. Almost impossible to positively ID without genetic testing.

A Slender Filefish and two Blackfin Cardinalfish

Two of the new Soapfish (used to be confused with Rypticus subbifrenatus, but is genetically distinct). The spots on these ones cover the belly, but not so on the other.

A load of Brotula. Part of the reason I am troubled by the rotenone method - more specimens are taken than are needed.

A Happy Birthday

And a busy birthday. It started out in good fashion. First thing in the morning, I went out with the Smithsonian group on a dive to The Grotto to do some fish collection using quinaldine sulfate (the anesthetic) - there was a delay in the shipment of their preferred chemical, called rotenone. I found it a little difficult to use the stuff at depth (around 95 feet). It only really works on the smallest of fish. Anything larger than a coin only gets "sleepy" from it - I chased a groggy Longsnout Butterflyfish far too long trying to get it. Many of the small fish are quite difficult to get as well. Quinaldine works best when the fish stay in it for some time, so it's easiest to squirt it into holes where they can't escape. The problem then is that they're very difficult to get out. You can do so by swooshing water around, but it's only marginally effective.

After the dive the researchers got back to work in the lab, and I spent some time working on my PhD applications. And after lunch we geared up to go on a second collection outing. This time we were headed to Highland's Bay - an area on the Southeast side of the island. It's an interesting area for all of the odd coral formations, but the water is always very green and murky (probably because of the prevailing ocean current and extensive seagrass beds). Four of us were snorkeling with Hawaiian Slings (a type of spear), and three were diving with quinaldine again. I opted to dive. And, again, it was somewhat "under-productive.". I chased a sleepy damselfish for a while (it's just so hard to let them go when you get so close!) and didn't turn up more than a handful of anything else. It was alright for me - I just like being involved and getting to dive - but I think the researchers were disappointed in what we were able to get. They all kept worrying that the rotenone shipment wasn't going to turn up and that their visit might be a waste as a result. Finally though, we learned when we returned from the outing, it arrived.

There wasn't enough daylight left to use it then (and they had lots of work to do in the lab), so they didn't want to go back out. Ben (one of the SFS faculty) and I, however, decided to go out to Admiral's Aquarium (one of our usual snorkel sites) and fish with the spears for a little while. Admiral's is a shallow patch reef with very clear water and almost never any sharks, so I felt comfortable with the spear there. It can be quite fun to do, but sometimes pretty brutal. I hoped that my kills were swift, but sadly I know some were not. The inner turmoil and reservations I have over taking part in any of this project probably doesn't come across fully in these posts. I've never really killed things before and I can't help but have strong emotions about doing it. There are (at least) two ways of thinking about it. One is from an ecosystem-wide perspective, that we are doing very little harm to each of the species as a whole and essentially none to the environment. The other is on a individual level. Each fish that dies because of us, is a life that has ended, some of which (especially those that are speared) suffered considerably. I try to think of things in the first way, but I inevitably I come back to the suffering inflicted on individual fish.

Our catch from the evening outing to Admiral's was quite good for the short time we were there. I managed to get a Peacock Flounder, a Blue Chromis, a Yellowtail Snapper, a Schoolmaster, a Mahogany Snapper, a Sergeant Major, a Goatfish, and a Yellowhead Wrasse.

Peacock Flounder

Blue Chromis

Yellowtail Snapper

Schoolmaster

Mahogany Snapper

Sergeant Major

Goatfish (poor little guy suffered good bit)

Yellowhead Wrasse

And the rare Brettfish (suffering was minimal).

That evening, of course, I got my favorite carrot cake (and quickly hid the leftovers in the staff refrigerator). And finished the long (but very enjoyable) day off down at the dock watching bioluminescent sea-worms with Jessee and some of the other staff.

Birds and Flowers

In addition to our own species list, which you can view anytime from this site (see below), Brett has also been regularly contributing to a South Caicos Master Species List that was started by one of the SFS faculty members. It catalogs all of the species that have been seen and definitively documented by students, staff, significant others, and anyone else here on the island who is so inclined. Brett must be credited with more additions than anyone else is though! (I don't know that for a fact, but it seems like every other day or so he's found another species that wasn't already on the list.) It's one of those hobbies that he has the time to pursue these days, and that he also seems to get a lot of pleasure out of. I have to admit that even if I had more free time, I'm not sure I'd be motivated enough to be constantly checking the list and tracking down all the required documentation for each new species, including a clearly identifying photo, its Kingdom through species classification, etc. That said, I have submitted a few entries of my own, the majority of which have been birds.

Bananaquit

Mourning Dove

Most recently, I identified a Mourning Dove that was singing just outside the staff porch and a Bananaquit that managed to get itself trapped under the roof of our common area. (We helped the Bananaquit find its way out after I took the above photo.) We've also seen an immature Little Blue Heron walking around outside the staff porch a few times over the past few days, but I haven't been able to get my camera out in time to capture it yet. (Plus, that one was already on the species list from when Brett and I added it back in August!)

Now I'm on a mission to identify some of the flowers and other plants around here. So much of our research for SFS-CMRS takes place underwater and focuses on marine wildlife, that nobody here (including the tropical ecologists) seems to know much about the terrestrial species. We don't have a very good plants/trees/shrubs field guide for the TCI region either, but I may look for one while I'm back in the States over the holidays. I'm already starting to collect photos to help with identification though, as it's likely that many of these flowers will no longer be in bloom come January. Here are a few shots I took yesterday: