Defenders of Wildlife Blog

(An irregular column to capture insults to wildlife)

People around the world took a stand for healthy coasts and marine wildlife this weekend, joining hands to fight the threats of increased offshore drilling. And in this year’s Hands Across the Sand, thousands of Americans — from the Atlantic Ocean in Virginia to the sandy beaches of Florida’s Gulf Coast, all the way to California and the Pacific – made it clear that they want to trade the dirty, dangerous energy sources of the past for a clean, responsible renewable energy future.

But while ocean lovers and activists came together in solidarity, another kind of gathering was taking place in the Sunshine State. Florida’s Senate President, Mike Haridopolos, met with Big Oil representatives in an “off the record session” to develop energy policy recommendations for state lawmakers, including Florida Governor Rick Scott and House Speaker Dean Cannon. On the agenda? You guessed it – outer continental shelf energy development (aka, drilling off of Florida’s coasts).

Could the timing have been worse? Apparently Florida lawmakers are suffering from the same case of oil spill amnesia that’s plaguing the members of the U.S. House of Representatives who have now passed three reckless offshore drilling bills. But the Floridians who joined Hands on Saturday haven’t forgotten – and neither has Defenders. In fact, we had both coasts covered this weekend – with Florida representative Elizabeth Fleming joining former governor Charlie Crist and other state and city officials in St. Petersberg and marine policy advisor Richard Charter speaking up in California’s Sonoma County. Their message (and ours): keep our coasts clean, healthy and drilling-free.

Learn more:

See more pictures from Hands Across the Sands events this weekend.

See the ways Defenders continues to stand up for wildlife and natural places in the Gulf of Mexico, more than a year after the Deepwater Horizon disaster.

Gulf of the Farallones

Finally, some good news for American coasts! Yesterday, the U.S. Senate Commerce Committee passed the “Gulf of the Farallones and Cordell Bank National Marine Sanctuaries Boundary Modification and Protection Act.” The legislation, which Senators Boxer and Feinstein introduced in January, would permanently protect California’s coastal waters and estuaries in Sonoma County and portions of Mendocino County by extending the boundaries of existing marine sanctuaries.

“One of America’s most important natural treasures moved one step closer to achieving permanent protection today,” said Richard Charter, marine policy advisor for Defenders of Wildlife. “Given recent threats to sacrifice local economies and the marine environment to offshore drilling, this is a critical and timely first step toward long-sought preservation.”

The Sonoma and Mendocino coasts are one of the planet’s most biologically productive marine environments. These areas support many species of marine mammals, birds and fishes, including endangered blue and humpback whales. The bill would expand the boundaries of the two existing National Marine Sanctuaries to protect the entire coastline in Sonoma County and as far north as Point Arena in Mendocino County, adding nearly 2,100 square nautical miles to the sanctuaries. The new boundaries would protect the Russian and Gualala River estuaries and the nutrient-rich Bodega Canyon from offshore oil drilling and pollution.

This move couldn’t come at a better time. Just yesterday, the Coast Guard responded to a seven-mile slick off the coast of Louisiana. The oil is believed to be continued fallout from from the BP Deepwater Horizon disaster. The Coast Guard has sent pollution investigators to the scene to take samples, which will go to a lab for confirmation.

The bad news isn’t over for the Gulf. The preliminary findings of two new studies show that the nearly two million gallons of toxic dispersants applied to the more than 200 million gallons of oil that gushed from its exploded rig may have been more damaging to the ecosystem as a whole than the oil alone. From Think Progress:

The government approved application of the dispersants in an attempt to prevent oil and tar mats from washing into the marshes along the coast, habitat where the substance has been known to remain for decades. BP maintained the dispersants would break down the oil and allow more of it to be eaten by bacteria that would consume some of the most harmful products in the oil.

But the initial experiments conducted by Wade Jeffrey, a biologist with the University of West Florida’s Center for Environmental Diagnostics and Bioremediation, point to the opposite. After adding BP oil to seawater and combining with Corexit, Jeffrey found that the chemicals did not have their intended effect. He said, “The way we’re doing the experiment, the Corexit does not seem to facilitate the degradation of the oil.” In fact, Jeffrey found that the combination of Corexit and oil was more toxic to phytoplankton in the sample than oil alone and did not prompt the oil-eating bacteria to consume the oil any faster.

A similar study, conducted by Susan Laramore of Florida Atlantic University’s Harbor Branch Oceanographic Institute and also released last week, looked at the effects of the oil-Corexit mixture on slightly larger species, including conch, oysters and shrimp. Early results point to the same conclusion – that the oil and dispersant mixture is more toxic than the oil alone. Laramore notes that her study runs directly counter to the assurances BP and others presented to the public when making the case for dispersant use. She said, “These results are backwards of what the oil companies are reporting.”

Defenders’ policy advisor and offshore drilling expert Richard Charter warned against the unprecedented use of toxic dispersants  and their potential damage to wildlife from the beginning. He told CNN last June, “This industry needs to wake-up and get serious about safety.” Now, after hearing this news he said, “This finding reaffirms the need to research and bring to market safer and more effective ocean oil spill response technologies, especially in the Arctic Ocean, where we have no spill response that works amidst broken sea ice.”

“This finding reaffirms the need to research and bring to market safer and more effective ocean oil spill response technologies, especially in the Arctic Ocean, where we have no spill response that works amidst broken sea ice.” – Richard Charter

Hopefully, these findings will spur action. Earlier this week, the Louisiana Senate Environmental Quality Committee approved a proposal that would effectively ban the use of dispersants in responding to oil spills in Louisiana waters, which extend three miles into the Gulf of Mexico. It now heads to the floor for debate.

Aboard the Gordon Gunter

The research vessel Gordon Gunter is the pride of the NOAA fleet. It routinely and deservedly receives a “Ship of the Year” award from the Department of Commerce. At more than 200 feet long, it rides comfortably in rough seas, and provides me with a wealth of different decks and vantage points from which to gaze out across the Gulf, searching for the next seabird. And for a working ship, I find my berthing accommodations here almost luxurious.

Not only do I get the small room to myself (it sleeps 2); there is a small desk at the foot of the bed on which I can set up two computers, a scanner, adapters, and power strip. There is a small shelving unit to store books, binoculars, a GPS unit, and other paraphernalia. I share a shower/restroom with the berth next door.

Our science complement works around the clock on at least three shifts, with a fourth schedule maintained by most of the Gunter’s crew. Almost all of the plankton scientists work in 12-hour shifts, noon to midnight, or midnight to noon. That’s a long time, but our sampling stations are three to five hours apart, so this transit time can be used to rest and catch meals. A Japanese scientist who specializes in identifying the larvae of the endangered blue fin tuna through a microscope works odd hours, much of it at night from what I can tell. I work from about 6 a.m. to about 10:30 p.m., outside surveying during daylight hours, inside doing paperwork and data back-up at night. The ship’s crew works 4 hours on, 8 hours off, twice each day.

Now on some ships, meals qualify pretty much as sturdy chow. But not here on the Gordon Gunter. Margaret, our chef, does wonders inside the kitchen, constantly pulling out delights. We have a daunting array of entre choices at each meal. We have had fresh fish, caught from the Gulf itself, nearly every day. Some of my contractors rave about the Gunter’s food, and they should know, because they have worked many ships in both the Atlantic and Pacific. Mealtimes, however, are relatively short, at a bit more than an hour, and always with the same fixed times. But Margaret encourages us to prepare and save a plate if we must continue working, then return to enjoy it at a more leisurely pace when we are off-shift.

Chris working at "the bridge," here aboard NOAA's Nancy Foster

Time passes surprisingly quickly working out at sea. A regular and packed work schedule fills my day up – it is impossible to get bored, even when the marine life is slow, because the next exciting find can be just over the horizon. The work is also quite tiring, in unexpected ways, because of all the constant bodily adjustments required to accommodate the ship’s motions. This can make for some interesting sorts of muscular fatigue.

Unlike twenty years ago, when going out to sea was such an isolating experience, there is now a wealth of information constantly at one’s fingertips . The bridge, of course, has all sorts of sophisticated navigation and weather data (see photo left). What has changed so much from the era in which I was schooled is all of the real-time environmental information at our disposal from models, satellites, and other sources. We know instantly what the ocean is doing. And with remarkably good internet service, we can communicate that knowledge to the outside world with almost no delay. If there were actually any free time, there is also satellite TV and a huge library of movies. I find all these amenities reassuring, because I have to ask some of our contractors to spend almost 3 weeks at sea at one time. This 10-day leg I signed up for is a relatively short jaunt.

Learn more:

Stay tuned for more tales from the Gulf! Click here to read Chris’ other accounts of life at sea.

One year later, Defenders continues to fight for wildlife in the Gulf. Click here to learn more about what we’re doing and see what YOU can do to help!

Wilson's storm petrel, courtesy of Lt. Elizabeth Crapo/NOAA

Seabird identification, especially from a pitching and rolling ship, is not easy. First of all, one has to throw away almost all of the tried-and-true methods that we use on dry land. Forget about using color, moving to a better vantage point, or listening to a song or call notes for clues.

Sometime during the late 1970s, I first learned just how difficult it was to even get a seabird into the field of view of my own binoculars. A friend and I had driven overnight from Tennessee up to Ocean City, in order to go out into the Atlantic Ocean during late May to see pelagic seabirds. Richard Rowlett was then chartering local fishing head-boats, loading them up with enthusiastic birders. (At that time, such excursions were still quite a novelty, whereas today one can select from an extensive menu of seabird trips on both Atlantic and Pacific coasts.)

Typical of the North Atlantic, my first pelagic excursion was a very bumpy ride. When a Wilson’s storm-petrel or Cory’s shearwater came into view, it never stayed in my binoculars long enough. I could not keep my balance; some surprise motion of the boat would knock me off tracking the bird. My main memory of that first experience is giving up, and trying to view the closest birds with the naked eye, hands clasped tightly to the rail, relying upon the word of others as to what I was actually seeing.

But experience finally teaches. For pelagic seabirds, one has to rely mostly on subtle cues. These include the bird’s shape and silhouette, flight behavior, and any contrasting pattern of dark and white. The truth is, we rely a great deal on how a seabird behaves to pin it down to species. Does it fly in a straight line? Or does its path over the sea rise and fall, like a rollercoaster? Does it look short-winged and long-bodied, with a labored flight? If yes, it’s an Audubon’s shearwater. If instead it looks long-winged and short-bodied, with a bounding flight, it’s a Manx shearwater. Is that storm-petrel flapping briefly, and then gliding on bowed wings? It’s a band-rumped storm-petrel. Does it have a more fluttery flight, with almost no glides? It’s a Wilson’s storm-petrel. And so on.

Sooty shearwater, courtesy of NOAA

The best thing I can do, aside from wishing for calm seas, is to first pick my observation point on the ship carefully. In other words, select a vantage point where the lighting best helps give away a bird’s identity. During high overcasts, the lighting is optimal, because the entire bird, top and bottom, can be evenly lit. But if there is any glare early or late in the day, I try to place myself where the birds are back-lit, with the sun over my shoulders. This position is especially good for picking out light or dark-and-white seabirds. For small, all-dark species like storm-petrels, I try to find lighting that makes the ocean surface look relatively even and lighter, the better to pick out these small, dark specks winging their way just over the waves. During mid-day, when lighting can be very harsh, I use the horizon to try to detect any birds that cross the line contrasting sea and sky.

If I can get a glimpse in good light, just a few seconds, I can almost always tell what I am seeing. If all goes well, medium size and larger birds can be identified up to a kilometer away. But there are always some birds whose ID just confounds us…the mystery birds. Like fishing tales, we too have our nautical stories of the “ones that got away.”

Learn more:

Stay tuned for more tales from the Gulf! Click here to read Chris’ other accounts of life at sea.

One year later, Defenders continues to fight for wildlife in the Gulf. Click here to learn more about what we’re doing and see what YOU can do to help!

Skipjack tuna

Birds are hardly the only marine life we see during this Gulf study. One morning out at sea I see a shiny, transparent piece of debris bobbing on a wave. Oh no, I think; it looks like plastic, of a size and appearance to pose a real danger to any sea turtles thinking to get an easy meal.

But it is entirely natural, a Portuguese man-of-war “jellyfish.” It has a body consisting of a translucent gas-filled, bladder-like float tinted pink, blue, or violet, part of which forms a crest which functions as a sail for drifting movement across the sea. Underneath this float is a cluster of polyps from which hang tentacles of up to 165 feet long. These pelagic colonial hydroids or hydrozoans are infamous for their very powerful, painful stings. One of the Gordon Gunter’s very own crew members was stung fiercely during a swim at the beach last week in Key West.

Our crew is fanatical about fish, and fishing. During daylight hours, we trail a line or two far behind the ship while it is underway, hoping to catch our lunch or supper. We are not disappointed. Mahi-mahi (also known as dolphin-fish or dorado) are our most frequent catch. The intense blue, yellow, and green colors of these predators are visible even when the fish is several feet below the ocean surface. In addition to those caught, it is not unusual to see two or three scattered around anything floating, a wooden board, a small plastic float, a patch of Sargassum weed.

Spinner dolphins

We also catch several wahoo, a torpedo-shaped member of the mackerel family highly regarded by many gourmets. Some wahoo have reached 8 feet in length, and weigh up to 180 pounds. Today we catch a small skip-jack tuna, a fish that schools up and roils the water during its feeding frenzies. And above those frenzies hover birds, numerous and diverse, hoping to seize a small fish being chased by the larger ones.

Although not tallied in large numbers, two of the three marine mammals we do see are species I’ve never seen before. In addition to the widespread bottlenose dolphin, we see a small pod of pan-tropical spotted dolphin, dashing in to playfully ride the bow wave of the ship. Compared to their larger cousins, the Atlantic spotted dolphin, the spots on this species are smaller, at times entirely absent, but their upper and lower jaws separated by thin white “lips” on their long beak confirm their identity. And one evening at dusk, another dolphin pod sneaks up on the Gunter from the stern. I notice a very long, erect dorsal fin, not as swept-backward as on most dolphins. Could it be? After one dolphin playfully breaches through the water, doing a double-axel role before splashing back down, there is no doubt: these are spinner dolphins, a species I have long wanted to see.

Leatherback turtle

Throughout our winter and spring surveys this year, we have seen very few sea turtles in the Gulf. But this day I am rewarded twice over. Not just one, but two huge leatherback turtles. This endangered species is the largest, deepest-diving, most migratory and wide-ranging of all sea turtles. Some leatherback turtles reach 2,000 pounds! One is so close to the ship that I can clearly see the large pink spot on the top if its head, each spot as unique and useful as our fingerprints for determining individual identity.

Learn more:

Stay tuned for more tales from the Gulf! Click here to read Chris’ other accounts of life at sea.

One year later, Defenders continues to fight for wildlife in the Gulf. Click here to learn more about what we’re doing and see what YOU can do to help!