Discovering a New Species of Seabird in the Pacific
Peter Pyle
Bryan's Sheawater, Midway Atoll, 1991 (Reginald David)
I had thought my best chance of discovering a new species of bird came and went during the late 1970s and early 1980s, when I worked on the Hawaii Forest Bird Survey. During this survey we slogged our way to very remote cloud forests that had never been adequately surveyed for birds. Less than a decade previous a surprising and distinct new species had been found on Maui, the Po'ouli, and our coverage of the tract where the Po'ouli was found, along with many similar unexplored tracts throughout Hawaii, was far more thorough than had ever occurred. During the survey we found some surprising new range extensions and a few species thought perhaps to be gone (and which probably are gone now) but, alas, no new species, despite intense due diligence. It appeared that the last frontiers for discovering new bird species were the very remote forests of South America and Southeast Asia, with discovery involving large and time-consuming expeditions. My career was taking me in other directions so it seemed I had lost my opportunity to discover a new bird.
One direction I took was the study of bird molt, and this required hours and hours of focused work in museum collections, examining 10's of 1000's of bird specimens. Most would consider this very tedious work, but I reveled in the discovery of any new tidbit about molt not previously known. The audience that shares my enthusiasm for these tidbits is next to non-existent, however, not quite the same as that enthused by a new species or, even, rumored rediscovery of one that was thought extinct (see Ivory-billed Woodpecker). Like pelagic trips to observe birds at sea, some days in the collections are better than others, and I was lucky to have a good day in August 2004 at the U.S. National Museum (USNM) in Washington, D.C.
Steve Howell and I were there for a week catching up on numerous projects of interest, including molt in water birds such as gulls and alcids and, for me, examination of some specimens that had been collected in Hawaii. I was helping my father with a monograph on the Birds of the Hawaiian Islands, now on line, and one of my goals was to try to identify the subspecies of all migrant birds that had been recorded in the islands.
In February 1963 a small shearwater was collected on Midway Atoll in the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands, identified as a Little Shearwater, given USNM specimen # 492974, and put in a dark drawer where it was left alone for over 40 years. There are five subspecies of Little Shearwaters that breed in cold regions of the south Pacific, and although the Midway specimen had, in 1968, been tentatively identified as the nominate (first described) subspecies from Norfolk Island, I wanted to confirm this against subsequent published information and to take some digital images of it for the monograph. But after a moment or two comparing it with other specimens of Little Shearwater at the museum, I was convinced that it was not the nominate subspecies of Little Shearwater and in fact was not even a Little Shearwater. But what was it?
Some of the specimen's features were more like Audubon's than Little Shearwater but it was too small for any of the Audubon's Shearwater subspecies, and in fact appeared to be smaller than any other shearwater species. The closest contender was Boyd's Shearwater, which breeds in the Azore Islands of the north Atlantic and also has characteristics in between Little and Audubon's, so much so that ornithologists had considered a subspecies of each about half the time. The specimen did not quite fit Boyd's either, however, and it would be very unusual to have a north Atlantic species occur on Midway. I suspected then that it might be an un-described subspecies or species, but knew that it would take more than just measurements and photographs of it to confirm this.
I ran all of this by Steve and USNM researcher Storrs Olson, who was studying small shearwaters including Boyd's at the time, and Storrs suggested I examine its DNA to see if this could help place it. Thanks to Rob Fleischer and Andreanna Welch we eventually were able to compare DNA from the specimen with that of most other small shearwaters and indeed it proved to be more closely related to Newell's Shearwater of Hawaii than Little or Boyd's shearwaters and therefore was, in fact, a new species of bird. So I ended up getting my new species "the easy way" as those slogging the forests of South America might say, to which I respond that they should try spending 1000's of hours in museum collections and see how easy it really is!
Peter checking museum specimens, studying molt in parrots
I got the opportunity to name the new species after my grandfather, Edwin Horace Bryan, and so it becomes “Bryan's Sheawater (Puffinus bryani).” The big questions now are where does it breed and how can we conserve it? Another Bryan's Shearwater was found calling in a rock crevice on Sand Island, Midway Atoll, in December 1991 and tape recorded. These Bryan's Shearwaters may have been "prospectors" to Midway from other colonies, like the individual Short-tailed Albatrosses that visit Midway from colonies off Japan. It is also possible that Bryan's Shearwaters bred undetected on Midway before rats were introduced there during World War II. Based on the timing of the records the species appears to breed in winter, and bird surveys there prior to the war were concentrated during spring and summer, so it could have been missed. Through the use of play-back recordings and decoys the U.S. Fish and Wildlife coaxed a pair of prospecting Short-tailed Albatrosses to nest and successfully fledge a chick on Midway for the first time during 2010-2011. And so the search now is on, to find where Bryan’s Shearwaters breed and, perhaps, to use recording of the 1991 bird to coax some back to Midway, to start a new colony now that the rats have been removed.
Links to the scientific paper and press releases:
http://www.birdpop.org/DownloadDocuments/Pyle-Welch-Fleischer-2011.pdf
http://www.birdpop.org/shearwaters.htm
http://www.radioaustralia.net.au/pacbeat/stories/201109/s3307359.htm
http://www.wired.com/wiredscience/2011/08/new-shearwater-species/
http://nationalzoo.si.edu/Publications/PressMaterials/PressReleases/NZP/2011/shearwater.cfm
http://www.hawaiinewsnetwork.com/new-species-of-seabird-discovered-in-the-hawaiian-islands/
http://news.discovery.com/animals/new-monkey-bird-species-110826.html
Up to 20 million tons of debris from Japan’s tsunami moving toward Hawaii
Associated Press
http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/envoy/20-million-tons-debris-japan-tsunami-moving-toward-143640503.html
Debris from Japan's tsunami approaching Hawaii. (KITV/ABC)
Some 5 to 20 million tons of debris--furniture, fishing boats,
refrigerators--sucked into the Pacific Ocean in the wake of Japan's March
11 earthquake and tsunami are moving rapidly across the Pacific. Researchers
from the University of Hawaii tracking the wreckage estimate it could approach
the U.S. West Coast in the next three years, the UK Daily Mail reports.
"We have a rough estimate of 5 to 20 million tons of debris coming from
Japan," University of Hawaii researcher Jan Hafner told Hawaii's ABC
affiliate KITV. Crew members from the Russian training ship the STS Pallada
"spotted the debris 2,000 miles from Japan," last month after passing
the Midway islands, the Mail wrote. "They saw some pieces of furniture,
some appliances, anything that can float, and they picked up a fishing boat,"
said Hafner. The boat was 20-feet long, and was painted with the word "Fukushima."
"That's actually our first confirmed report of tsunami debris,"
Hafner told KITV.
Researchers say up to 20 mn tons of debris from Japan's March
11 tsunami could reach U.S. West Coast in three years
The 9.0 magnitude earthquake and tsunami that hit northeastern Japan on March 11 has left some 20,000 people dead or missing.
Japan Tsunami Hits the California Coast
The ongoing devastation and sorrow in Japan is strongly felt an ocean away here at home in California. Our hearts are with this beautiful country. Below is a report written on March 11, 2011 - the morning after Japan suffered a 9.0 earthquake, and on the day the tsunami waves hit California. Please also find below an incredible article explaining the effects on the earth’s tectonic plates and axis from this enormous earthquake. We finish with a link to a Youtube video of the tsunami surges entering the Bolinas Lagoon in central California.
There’s a Reason Tsunami is a Japanese Word
I happened to catch the live reports from Japan last night just after the
massive earthquake hit and the tsunami's began rolling in.. No sleep for me.
On my mind were friends and family on Midway and in Hawaii, and most of all
I couldn't shake the surreal visions of tsunami waves and devastation in Japan.
Our hearts and thoughts are with Japan tonight.
So - it was up early for me, check-in with Hawaii, then hit the road for semi
high ground at the Marin coast. The sea change was subtle at first, but by
9:00 a.m., March 11, 2011 had become the eeriest day of my life. In an instant
the good-sized surf fell quiet and calm, and the ocean's retreat revealed
so much rock and sea floor further and further out that it sent shivers up
my spine, and exclamations from the onlookers around me. The incoming surge
and swells that followed soon churned and rumbled-in, flooding Stinson Beach,
Bolinas Beach and the Bolinas Lagoon completely. This pattern continued for
every half hour until I left the scene at noon.
Cormorants sat confused on the beach, and at one point a large Leopard shark
was swept in and dumped on the retreating sands of the beach below, thrashing
and rolling until a surge brought relief to the fish about 20 minutes later.
We later heard that mild surges were clearly detectable up and down the coast
of California through the night of the 11th, and into the next day –
for at least a 24 hour period!
Reports of harbor and shoreline damage up and down the California coast keeps trickling- in from locations such as Crescent City, Fort Bragg/Noyo Harbor, Berkeley Marina, Santa Cruz Harbor, Morro Bay, and Catalina Harbor. We have MUCH to learn regarding the science of tsunamis, and much to learn from Japan’s unparalleled preparedness and response to earthquakes.
Mon Mar 14, 9:56 am ET
Japan’s earthquake shifted balance of the planet
By Liz Goodwin – Mon Mar 14, 9:56 am ET
http://news.yahoo.com/s/yblog_thelookout/20110314/ts_yblog_thelookout/japans-earthquake-shifted-balance-of-the-planet
Last week's devastating earthquake and tsunami in Japan has actually moved
the island closer to the United States and shifted the planet's axis.
The quake caused a rift 15 miles below the sea floor that stretched 186 miles
long and 93 miles wide, according to the AP. The areas closest to the epicenter
of the quake jumped a full 13 feet closer to the United States, geophysicist
Ross Stein at the United States Geological Survey told The New York Times.
The world's fifth-largest, 8.8 magnitude quake was caused when the Pacific
tectonic plate dove under the North American plate, which shifted Eastern
Japan towards North America by about 13 feet (see NASA's before and after
photos at right). The quake also shifted the earth's axis by 6.5 inches, shortened
the day by 1.6 microseconds, and sank Japan downward by about two feet. As
Japan's eastern coastline sunk, the tsunami's waves rolled in.
Why did the quake shorten the day? The earth's mass shifted towards the center,
spurring the planet to spin a bit faster. Last year's massive 8.8 magnitude
earthquake in Chile also shortened the day, but by an even smaller fraction
of a second. The 2004 Sumatra quake knocked a whopping 6.8 micro-seconds off
the day.
After the country's 1995 earthquake, Japan placed high-tech sensors around
the country to observe even the slightest movements, which is why scientists
are able to calculate the quake's impact down to the inch. "This is overwhelmingly
the best-recorded great earthquake ever," Lucy Jones, chief scientist
for the Multi-Hazards project at the U.S. Geological Survey, told The Los
Angeles Times.
The tsunami's waves necessitated life-saving evacuations as far away as Chile.
Fisherman off the coast of Mexico reported a banner fishing day Friday, and
speculated that the tsunami knocked sealife in their direction.
(An energy map provided by NOAA shows the intensity of the tsunami caused
by Japan's earthquake: Reuters/NOAA. Below, Satellite image of Japan's coast
moving: NASA.)
Footage of Tsunami waves hitting Bolinas Lagoon: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-MDLR93Svo
For the Love of Serpentine
by Rowena Forest
lizard handstand on serpentine
If you haven’t already heard, the California State Senate
is spending valuable time and money on a ridiculous measure to remove serpentine
from its status as the State Rock of California. What the h? Of all the topics
to pursue during a state of crisis for millions of unemployed Californians,
a State in horrendous debt, and while the misdeeds done to the children and
environment of California continue to pile up. State Senator Gloria Romero
is proposing dropping serpentine as the State Rock because it naturally contains
silica fibers better known as asbestos, a substance when extracted from serpentine
rock and processed for use as building materials is toxic to humans, and with
extended exposure can lead to a form of lung cancer known as mesthelioma.
So, basically it’s an emotional reaction to a natural geologic formation,
and will result in a punitive action to the environment of California because
humans figured out how to extract and utilize asbestos from rock. Articles
about the Senate’s action have featured the voices of many supporters
of the bill, but very weak and unintelligent opposition to the bill. Here,
finally, are two informed and sane responses to this action, which I found
online:
“Please help to stop the removal of serpentine as the state rock
of California. Call your state assembly person. Around 280 of the species
of plants that only live in California also only live on serpentine. That
is about 10% of the state's endemic diversity. The serpentine regions of California
are some of the state's most beautiful regions. Educating our children about
the rock helps to preserve the biodiversity of the state. Dethroning it could
lead to the extinction of these species. Please California, you drove you're
golden bear to extinction, but you can still save the rare and endangered
serpentine plants.”
Serpentine
barrens
Streptanthus
glandulosa - endemic to serpentine
on Mt. Tamalpais
"Below are some reasons why we, as biologists, should
be very worried about Gloria Romero’s push to demonize serpentine, a
rock that has contributed much to local and regional patterns of biodiversity
here in CA. As David points out many of CA's rare and endemic species are
found only on serpentine rocks.
1. There is some discussion on grinding serpentinite rock as means of carbon
sequestration (http://www.physorg.com/news1041.html). Once serpentine landscapes
are deemed ‘toxic’ these habitats become easy targets for such
efforts which will have drastic effects on CA’s biodiversity; over half
of CA’s rare species of plants are restricted to serpentine and other
unusual soils
2. Serpentine areas in private property could become liabilities (as per anti-asbestos
litigation), thereby leading landowners to take drastic measures to rid their
land of serpentine, areas harboring much of CA’s rare and endemic species
3. Once serpentine is deemed toxic it will become increasingly difficult for
those trying to study and preserve these habitats to access such sites for
research and teaching
4. By taking serpentine off its much-deserved celebrated status we belittle
the value of these habitats and consequently our control over preserving and
studying the amazing life forms found only in these habitats
I urge botanists, zoologists, microbiologists, and other biologists to voice
their concerns. We need to be heard.
Also, there are essentially no documented cases of anybody having developed
asbestosis or mesothelioma from the casual chrysotile asbestos exposures received
from naturally-occurring chrysotile asbestos found in SERPENTINITE terrain.
Practically all of the reported cases of mesothelioma are from long-term,
industrial-level exposures in asbestos-containing facilities with poor ventilation.
Further, it is the exposure to ‘tremolite’ asbestos NOT ‘chrysotile’
asbestos which is known to increase the risk of developing mesothelioma. As
far as asbestos, it all depends on the asbestos type (chrysotile versus tremolite),
exposure frequency, and exposure level. All three factors are very low in
SERPENTINITE landscapes around the world, particularly here in CA. Please
write to the governor and call your state assembly to put a stop to this madness!”
Sargent cypress forest
Serpentine rock is infused with large amounts of heavy metals and lacks important nutrients, fostering the development of unique and hardy species adapted to this challenging regime. California’s serpentine landscapes are rare and striking - symbolic of wild California. These distinctive shiny green-grey-blue rocky or muddy outcrops are islands of habitat, and synonymous with rarity in California. The first thing you think of when mentioning rare and endangered plants in California is serpentine habitats. Over 280 serpentine specific plant species are listed as rare by the California Native Plant Society. Serpentine prairies, wetlands, pygmy forests, scrublands and barrens feature endemic species and the fauna that depends on them. The only answer to saving these species is to set aside the serpentine lands they inhabit, and protect them from human disturbance. Let’s start by striking this ridiculous effort to degrade another precious piece of California.
Serpentine prairie in spring
The Problem of Introduced
Mammals to California’s Islands and the Farallon Story: Seabirds, Plants,
and Owls
Peter Pyle
Many seabirds choose to breed on islands because they were historically free of mammalian predators. Their chicks need so much nutrition to develop that both parents must head to sea when offspring are still young and vulnerable fluff-balls. Some species, such as the Laysan and Black-footed albatrosses in the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands, fly 1000's of miles to get food for their chicks because the islands and coastal landmasses near their food resources are inhabited by foxes, raccoons, rats, and even gulls, which would quickly seize an unaccompanied chick. This is one of the reasons why predator-free islands off the California coast are typically packed with seabirds. And why the introduction of even a small population of non-native mammals can have such devastating impacts.
The story has been repeated, over and over, throughout the Pacific and the world. Introduced mammals, be they cats, rats, goats, or rabbits, get to islands and either prey upon seabird chicks or devastate fragile island habitats to the point where breeding is no longer feasible. Cats on Mexican Islands off Baja, goats in the Galapagos, Artic Foxes on Alaskan islands, mongooses in Hawaii, sheep in New Zealand, rats on the Channel Islands, in each case causing entire seabird colonies to become extirpated, or species to become extinct from the world. Beginning with pioneering efforts to remove rabbits from Laysan Island, cats from Jarvis, and various mammals from islands off New Zealand, biologists have slowly begun to figure out how to free up islands of human induced disturbances such as these. Although the methods are not always pretty, the results have been consistently the same. Seabirds immediately return, re-colonize, and thrive once again, as if they had never left. Even animal rights folks understand the value of removing a handful of non-native mammals, in one fell swoop, if it means the return of thousands or millions of native breeding seabirds indefinitely into the future.
Southeast Farallon Island off San Francisco has remained amazingly free of four-legged mammalian predators, other than a few pet cats harbored by Lighthouse Society and Coast Guard personnel through the 1960s (stories of two-legged mammalian predators out there are well known). However, two mammals have managed to gain a foothold on the island over the years, with impacts that may not have been predictable or obvious at first.
In 1855 the original builders of the Farallon Lighthouse introduced rabbits (technically, the European Hare) to the island for food; understandable in a place where crops cannot be locally produced and where it was often weeks or months between delivery runs. Rabbits are herbivores, not predators, so the only seabird species affected by the rabbits was the Rhinoceros Auklet, which breeds in burrows large enough for a rabbit to occupy. The "Rhinos" quickly disappeared from the island after rabbits became established, and equally quickly returned, once they were removed by PRBO biologists in 1972-1973. But the much greater impact by the rabbits was on the island flora. Native plants such as "Farallon Weed" (Lasthenia maritima) and other small forbs were knocked back, while less-palatable non-native grasses and other invasive species took over much of the island's marine terraces. Once the rabbits were removed, the native plants, those that had evolved under harsh Farallon conditions, slowly began to reclaim the island from the foreign flora, but they have not done so entirely. Why might this be?
The answer may involve the second introduced mammal, one that might not seem as threatening to the ecosystem as the rabbits, but in reality has had a much greater indirect impact on at least one species, the rare and vulnerable Ashy Storm-Petrel. Soon after the rabbits were removed PRBO biologists noted non-native Eurasian House Mice on the island, but there was no record of when they had been introduced (a couple of lines of evidence suggest they arrived with Russian sealers in the 1810-1830s, perhaps being suppressed in evidence until the rabbits were removed, but that's a another story). The population of these mice would explode in the late summer and fall, after breeding seabirds had departed, and coinciding with the seeding of several plant species. With the first heavy winter rains and sprouting of the plant seeds the mice would virtually disappear, with nary a sighting in January-June. But a few somehow survived each spring, as sometime in July each year the first one would be spotted in the kitchen, sniffing the air for crumbs under the table, and another and another would follow, until the place was again over-run.
As a fall biologist for so many years, I got to witness this mouse population cycle over and over. Although annoying (we spent substantial energy trapping them and trying to mouse-proof the house) none of us thought they were doing the seabirds much harm, as there was no evidence of a direct impact. Even the small Ashy Storm-Petrels seemed to be able to fend themselves against mouse predation. But something was happening with the storm-petrels, as they declined severely in population between the 1970s and 2000s. And with over 60% of the species known population breeding on the Farallones, what was a local problem had become a concern for the entire species.
During the springs, primarily in March-May, we had noticed many clean-picked storm-petrel wings along the path to the lighthouse, so something was doing them in. At first we thought it was gulls, but when gulls eat seabirds there's nothing "clean" about it. They swallow the seabird whole and later cough up a half-digested carcass. We finally deduced the culprit: Burrowing Owls, first through the discovery of petrel wing "middens" in caves on the island where these owls roosted, then through the observation of petrel feathers in owl pellets, and, finally, caught red-handed by infra-red investigation on moon-lit nights. Sadly, the owls would be coaxed to stay on the island by swarming mice when they arrived in October, would see their food resource crash out in January, would switch to incoming storm-petrels in February, and would often die of starvation in March-May, the petrels apparently not being enough to sustain them. A lose-lose situation all around.
But suppose we remove the mice from the island. Well, the owls arriving in fall would depart right away for mousier pastures (or at least would not survive the winter without anything to eat) and the storm-petrels would not fall victim in spring. An elegant example of how a non-native species can impact native ones even if indirectly. For the petrel's sake, mouse removal hopefully can be accomplished some day. And when it is, I'm putting a wager on the native plants also completing their reclamation of the island. Why would this be? I don't know, exactly, but the two lessons to be learned here are 1) that introduced species are never good, and 2) that their impacts are not as obvious or straightforward as we would like to think.
A North Coast Journey
by Rowena Forest
Summer 2009: I’ve had some great northern trips in the past – to Ferndale, Shelter Cove and the Lost Coast, Arcata several times, the Mendocino, Humboldt and Sonoma County coastlines. Camping, party with friends at a haunted house, university visits, hikes, concerts, a rare plant symposium, drive-through tree, the works.
This time Pete and I decided to take a good old fashioned car camping trip for our 10th anniversary – no kids, no backpacking, and no reservations. We packed the Toyota pickup, our boards, our dog, some instant oatmeal and fruit from the kitchen, a bunch of Vanity Fair magazines, Blue Water Gold Rush by Tom Kendrick, Weaving the Dream by Greg Sarris, and binoculars. I took one last scan of the top of the State on my six foot topo map of California hanging at the top of the stairs, and we were off. We figured we lasted ten years together (15 really), so we could hang out unscheduled for ten days.
After years of two simultaneous jobs, plus two simultaneous teenagers and a house to keep up, I am more than happily unemployed and kid-free this summer. Pete is a workaholic ornithologist who tidied-up a big project before we took off, and he promised to leave his computer and California Bird Records Committee “batches” at home. Here’s some of how the trip went:
First off, being in our throw-care-to-the-wind mode, it was fitting that we got a flat tire right away! It reminded me of the good old days when I was a teenage bride in the late 1980’s. My ex and I would head out of the Bay Area in our 1971 VW van with the goal of say, Seattle, and we’d get as far as Vallejo before starting to break down. This time we made it almost to Fairfield. With a Herculean effort by Pete on the side of I-80 in the afternoon heat rotating the tires to get the spare on the front, because it doesn’t fit the back – even though the flat was in the back – we were off again, and already grimy before any camping.
We made it to Yreka at dusk. As we flew north past Mount Shasta and across the volcanic sagebrush and vernal grasslands of Shasta Valley, the “bullbats”/Common night-hawks came out, and darted overhead and along the prairie in numbers I had never seen. Behind us a giant full moon rose over Mt. Shasta’s north shoulder. The surrounding ranchland was dotted with gorgeous barns – some antique, while others are kept up well. They are obviously working barns – unlike the barns at home in Marin which are either completely neglected and melting into the ground beneath them, or are given six figure face lifts to serve as wine cellars or art galleries.
The next day we headed out into uncharted territory for both of us: Route 96 east to west from Yreka to Eureka. It took us two days of winding along the Klamath River and slipping between, then up and over the mammoth Siskiyou and Marble Mountains Wilderness, and Six Rivers National Forest. We had a birthday along the way (Pete’s) at our own private streamside campground – with a drive to “town” for a drink, Giants game on the tube, and a game of pool at a bar resembling a shed with no sign or obvious entrance, which we found by feel.
No Bigfoot sightings other than numerous log-carved likenesses propped-up along the way beside the road, and we eventually made it to the coast. I was under the weather, so we motel-hopped in windy foggy Arcata for two days, while greatly enjoying Trinidad’s town, beach, and hikes, plus a visit north to the mouth of the mighty Klamath River and the most unbelievably majestic redwoods we had ever been amongst – and we have been amongst a lot. A bonus was the glimpse of Roosevelt Elk for the first time.. looking slightly heftier than our Tule elk back home. Rested and well fed, we stocked up for the Lost Coast and headed south through Ferndale for some real camping.
The fog was thick and drippy along the ridges south toward Cape Mendocino, but we soon popped out of it into the infamous donut hole of blue sky that often halo’s parts of the Lost Coast. We met a lone surfer along the remote highway who was getting permission from a ranch manager to cross private land out to the black sand beach break below. We decided to leave the spot for him to enjoy alone, and headed on for our camp.
At our destination, we took-in blustery beach hikes and views of endless driftwood strands. The riparian birding around the camp site is pretty good for Pete, and we scanned the uplands around a river mouth for the remnants of an Indian village site my uncle and aunt had surveyed 30 years earlier for their archeological firm. There is a very informative BLM kiosk at the campground with good maps and information on being thoroughly prepared before backpacking the Lost Coast. The curt info on dealing with poison oak simply reads: “If you come in contact with poison oak wash with soap and water and hope for the best.”
By today we are a little lost on the Lost Coast. Took a hike to the abandoned Punta Gorda Lighthouse and didn’t get back to camp with enough time to drive out of here and down the coast to our next destinations with enough daylight.. So here we sit. The canned ravioli for lunch was good, plus the creek-side mid-hike snack of smoked salmon and apples. Our small dog is pooped from the driving wind and deep-sanded hike. I took a luke warm solar shower sponge bath, which hangs from the truck surf rack. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but its hard being out of cell phone range, or any type of contact possibilities with my kids. My son is overseas (in North Africa at that moment) on a summer trip with a small athlete scholar group, and my daughter is in Oregon preparing to fly home to spend time with her dad and his new baby. I’m telling myself that everyone is fine.
The birds in the riparian area behind our truck are funny and not too shy – especially the gold finches = super yellow males hanging on the twiggy anise plants looking our way.
I’ve learned a few things on this northern trip so far: How striking the Pacific Northwest habitats of Northern CA are, and how much they contrast with the habitats of Central California; how varied the composition of coastal scrub is up and down the coast (the gorgeous bluff scrub zones we’ve seen of the Redwood Empire are dominated by Garrya elliptica, Holodiscus discolor, sword fern and Salal – as opposed to the coyote bush, monkey flower, poison oak and sage of Central CA, and the coastal scrub dotted with yucca in Southern California); how different the under story and overall feel of the redwood forests of the north, as opposed to the redwood forests in the central part of the State; and last but not least – how friggin’ blue the ocean is off Cape Mendocino and the Lost Coast! I mean REALLY blue: None of this olive green, drab brown-gray business of the Bay Area. On the whole hike to the Punto Gorda Lighthouse the black sand beaches and blustery white-capped turquoise seas could only remind me of the wilder coasts of the Hawaian Islands: Mo’omomi and Kalapapa on Molokai, Napali Coast of Kaua’i, Kuhuku and Kaena Point of O’ahu.. Fierce, gorgeous, and lonely. I suppose this pelagic looking water is due in no small part to the fact that we are at the point of land that juts out farthest into the sea of the whole West Coast of the continental U.S.: Cape Mendocino, which sticks out into the wild blue over 300 miles westward of San Diego.
The only things creeping me out on this leg of the trip are the possibility of a black bear sticking its nose into our open camper door as we sleep, and that we are sitting on top of the Mendocino Triple Junction for three days – the most seismically active and violent earthquake fault collision area in California. Major quakes are common here, and in 1992 an earthquake lifted the entire King Range three to five feet! We have an after dark earthquake/tidal wave evacuation plan: Pete shoots from bed through the sliding window of the truck cab and drives us up the hill up the dirt ranch road to safety on the bluff, while Kona and I sleep.
Finally got out of the Lost Coast, but I really liked that campground - the wild beaches, and the peaceful golden evenings after the wind died at the edge of the estuary and willow zone. Back to cell phone range and it turns out my kids were only partially fine: Rio missed her flight from Oregon to SF (she felt half an hour before the flight was sufficient time to check-in and board the plane), tried again the next day to get a flight down, and was stuck in the Portland airport all day trying for stand-by on several connectors, being bumped each time and crying in the bathroom between each, and finally making it onto a nighttime flight to SF. Jesus. Passing through Petrolia, the only photo I felt compelled to take was of this weird baby doll display on someone’s fence.
Gorgeous, long, remote drive south through the ranches and ridge tops of the King Range. With burning brakes we descended on Shelter Cove at the center of the Lost Coast. We poked around town and marveled at the deep blue sea again. Also, the giant clear aquarium-like tide pools and surge zones in the reefs, and the silence of the town. It’s the weekend and the place is virtually empty. A majority of the houses are for sale – due in no small part to the poor state of the economy – and salmon is called-off this year, which I think is the major factor in no crowds almost everywhere we have been along the coast so far. We were expecting the worst in crowds, and it hasn’t turned out that way. On our way out of town we stopped at the Shelter Cove general store up the hill, and talked to a guy who just took the Lost Coast beach hike solo from the Mattole River mouth south to Shelter Cove. He sat on a picnic table waiting for his ride, and was beaming from the three day backpack.
A long tedious ride got us down to the Fort Bragg area, and we grabbed a spot at MacKerricher State Park.. which was terrible. It’s one of the super popular, over-loved coastal campgrounds, packed with families and groups in its over 100 camp spots. There’s garbage stuffed in the fire pits, unsavory bathrooms, toilet paper in the bushes, grime, and people everywhere. But it’s all we could get this evening, so we mostly hung around Fort Bragg at a cool Italian restaurant and music spot until well after dark, then backed into our brushy camp spot, crawled in the back of the truck and went to bed.
I love the small working waterfronts remaining in California, and Noyo Harbor is one of my favorites. Pete is pretty familiar with Noyo from his many boat trips out of the harbor for pelagic bird surveys. We cruised the waterfront, saw a Harlequin duck upstream, ate, watched the Purple martins that nest beneath the towering Highway One overpass, read the colorful chapter in Blue Water Gold Rush covering Noyo Harbor, and generally hung out. The dead boat yard upstream is impressive – it reminds me of Gate 5 and the northern Sausalito waterfront of earlier days.
Next we ended up all the way down in Point Arena hoping for surf at the pier, but it was windy and flat. We got the treat of seeing two urchin bots getting off-loaded onto the pier after a day’s work. I’m always impressed at how huge those urchins are they bring in. The guys at the boom didn’t seem to mind us standing off to the side gawking and taking photos. Pete got some fresh and free umi.
Heading south, we hiked several beach bluff trails, and gave money to the Mote Creek Beach donation box. Cool spot, and it’s nice that people care about it. Further along down the line Sea Ranch seemed more expansive and ominous than ever, slapped down in the middle of this gorgeous remote stretch of coast. It’s always grotesque, but this evening it seemed to take hours to get past this endless residential development, and finally out into a breath of fresh air at Salt Point.
We had incredible luck finding a camp spot this evening – In fact we had our choice of spots at several campgrounds in the area. It turns out our trip was timed with the small mid-summer window of closure of the abalone season. Word has it that a couple of weeks before and after this time frame, we would not have found a spot anywhere. So, for our final night on the trip we backed the truck into prime real estate with our bed overlooking a gorgeous kelp cove, lined with sea bird rocks on the outside, and a picnic table and fire ring at our side. There has been NO FOG since Arcata, and the wind is mild for most of the morning and evening. All night Black oyster-catchers, murres, and gulls called. Early in the morning as we woke, the sea lions started barking. Kona Jack finally had enough and growled back to protect the truck and his pack mates.
Kona needs a bath, we need a bath, our laundry needs a bath, and so does
the truck. Time to head south to home. The excuse of my birthday is fast approaching,
so another more fine-tuned north coast trip may be in order. It’s the
big 4-0, so I can do anything I like! Maybe Tahiti instead. On my desk at
home is a list of the successful, beautiful, famous ladies sharing my number:
Jennifer Lopez, Margaret Cho, Gwen Stefani, Queen Latifah, Jennifer Aniston,
Mariah Carey, etc.. The only difference between me and them is personal trainers,
plastic surgery, and a few bucks.. but who’s counting!
Please see the Photo Album pages for north coast journey
pictures
Native Grasslands of California
Hordeum brachyantherum
Habitat typing is a touchy subject, but often a necessary exercise when approaching habitat designation, research, or restoration in California. After some field work on coastal habitat typing projects for the government, I learned like so many others that California’s coastal habitat patchwork morphs and bleeds together – creating more ecosystems and niches than we can accurately designate, or even see. But in broad terms we can identify and recognize general habitat and community characteristics up and down the State. The color and richness of it all makes my heart sing.
Some of California’s grassland community types include: salt marsh/salt grasslands, coastal dune grassland, coastal prairie and coastal bluff prairie, serpentine grassland, vernal pool and wetland grasslands, open Coast Range, and inner Coast Range grasslands, oak savanna, Central Valley/valley floor grassland, alkali pan, Foothill/valley grasslands, mountain meadow – wet and dry, alpine meadow, and alpine rock community. Grass communities are also present in California’s woodland, riparian, scrub, chaparral, aquatic, and sub-marine habitats.. to name a few.
California’s coastal grasslands have the highest diversity of all of the State’s coastal ecosystems, yet, less than one percent of coastal grasslands remain undisturbed in California. Most of California’s native grasslands have been lost due to development and grazing practices. Human intervention in the form of restoration and management are crucial and necessary to the survival of California’s remaining native grassland remnant stands. Many grassland restoration projects small and large, public and private have occurred across the State. Burning as a means of soil restoration, and weed and detritus control has slowly become more accepted and understood as a restoration practice for native grasslands. It often takes creative planning and a host of restoration techniques to tackle these important projects, involving many sensitive species as well as soil and hydrology concerns.
One grassland restoration site that comes to mind on public land is the Inspiration
Point restoration project within the Presidio National Park in San Francisco.
As a contractor researching the historic ecology and human history of this
site, I became intimately familiar with the City’s botanical past and
lost habitats. But I also became familiar with the hidden blessing of land
occupied by the oldest military base in the U.S.: much of it was preserved
from urban development, and pockets of rare and endangered coastal habitat
were saved amongst the clusters of old buildings, and groves of non-native
forest planted years ago. At Inspiration Point a remnant rare serpentine prairie
was partially preserved, and a several year restoration project was undertaken
by the Park Service, including removal of non-native trees, in hopes of preserving
the endangered Presidio Clarkia, amongst other surviving serpentine grassland
species at this site.
One tenth of all the endemic plant species of California grow in serpentine
soils.. that’s huge. Serpentine soils are low in nutrients and high
in heavy metals, resulting in a harsh habitat toxic to many plant species.
Forest stands are extremely rare and specialized in serpentine habitats, but
serpentine prairies and grasslands are one of the most gorgeous sites you’ll
ever see.
Check out the California Native Grass Association website at:
http://www.cnga.org/
Serpentine Grasslands
California Bunch Grassland
California's Coastal Terraces
Coastal Terrace, Central CA Coast
To me we live in an artificial construct of a world. The real world is outside of that, often underneath it, sleeping or lost. I was raised in the country at the edge of our continent. I was so fortunate, and feel that deeply every day. The coastline of California is one of the most populated and impacted in the U.S., but there are at least small natural areas in every coastal county that hold on, have endured this far without being smothered, or have been “daylighted” again from beneath development. In this section the seasons will play a significant role in what we focus on. I continue a lifetime of play and research in coastal habitats, and to learn all I can of these landscapes.
Coastal Terraces in late winter into spring
I grew up on a dirt road in a remote town on a coastal terrace. The ocean
roared in the foreground, and the Farallon Islands offshore centered the view
from our living room windows. On this terrace known as “the Mesa”
we explored fields and trails, rode horses, caught the school bus, felt the
full-on south winds of winter storms, and the foggy summers and dry earth
of drought. I was the kind of kid that hunkered down in the grass and watched
bugs and amphibians endlessly. I wished for, and pretended there were, fish
in the vernal pools and short streams of the mesa. I made aquariums and terrariums
for the wildlife I would bring into my bedroom.
When winter did occur, after the rains, every puddle and ditch held life. It was amazing. The puddles, even muddy ones, were full of Pacific tree frog tadpoles and tiny swimming orange water fleas. Every ditch held aquatic boatmen and whirl-a-gig beetles. Sometimes skeeters skated on top of the seasonal wetlands, and the fast black spiders that lived in the grass would run by our feet and across the surface of the water on their way somewhere. Garter snakes were everywhere. Frogs chorused incessantly in the evenings. Barn swallows swept the neighborhood fields and scrublands, and later in the spring landed in their mud nests full of chicks on our front porch light. Large wetlands still ruled the mesa. The vast swales were the birth place of the mesa streams – seas of Juncus, sword fern, wax myrtle, California Blackberry, and fiery shots of yellow willow here and there across the mesa – luminous orange branches bare of leaves in the late winter.
Over a short amount of time those tadpoles and beetles have gone. There are still puddles and wet ditches, but no life. There are still swales stuffed with a patchwork of colorful coastal scrub habitat, but many are gone and the remaining ones are smaller. The town is only semi-rural and semi-developed, but the impacts have been enough to end an entire wetland ecosystem before my eyes within a twenty year period. Trees have been planted in huge amounts on this terrace over the years to block wind, and block the views of the neighbors: most frequently eucalyptus, Monterey cypress, and pine. These non-natives and many others have halted the undergrowth of the natural prostrate habitats typical of coastal windswept marine terraces, and have locally reduced the water table. Most of the grass and scrublands are gone, and so are the frogs, snakes, brush rabbits, and swallows. California Quail hang around tenuously, their local populations rising and falling over the years, mostly due to habitat loss and predation by housecats.
Another major issue affecting the wetlands and their habitats on this terrace was the impact of development on the wetlands in the form of roads and septic leach fields. In the 1950’s a development plan for the mesa began, and a gridded roadway system was bulldozed across the terrace regardless of slope, swale, or stream. This has severely impacted the flow and health of the swales, streams and vernal pools that once covered the terrace in the winter and spring. The residential sewage system on the terrace consists of individual septic systems that do not work properly during heavy rain years in particular, due to the naturally poor drainage quality of the terrace. The underlying bedrock of the mesa is a hard and impenetrable layer of Monterey shale, and much of the terrace is covered in deposits of clay soil – this combination holds sub surface waters like a saturated sponge sitting on a countertop. When digging a hole in our mesa back yard one of two things always happened: The hole either instantly filled up with water, or if the water table was lower in that spot due to slope or season we dug through hard layers of amazingly colored clay deposits: orange, rust, gold and bright blue. These naturally poor drainage patterns and the resultant persistent wetlands were counted on by pond life, insects, reptiles, birds and mammals for centuries. The disturbance of the surface and ground water percolation and flow by the roads and development, as well as by the consistent contamination of the water and soils by malfunctioning septic systems probably struck the biggest blow in the shortest amount of time to the mesa habitats and wildlife.
In the late winter I can still hear the tree frogs in the distant wetlands and cattle ponds outside of town. The call of coyote has also been recently added to the evening mix. With this disappointing loss of coastal scrub and wetlands in my hometown, it should be noted that there are also more habitat landscapers and native gardens than there used to be. The awareness of coastal habitat enhancement and preservation has definitely risen over time. I hope something will shift for the Bolinas Mesa with these efforts, and that the waters invite life again.
I’ve always called the Mesa a marine terrace. Now I’m using the term coastal terrace instead, which is a bit more general.. just to play it safe. Coastal terraces are wave cut benches – highlands next to the shore. A marine terrace is characterized as once being seafloor, and is comprised of specific rock and marine derived soils for the most-part. I’ve heard that areas surrounding Fort Bragg described as a marine terraces, as well as several other benches along the California coast. Some coastal terraces of note, and in need of close attention and diligent habitat conservation are Isla Vista - home of UC Santa Barbara, The city of Santa Cruz, the Bolinas Mesa, the town of Mendocino and countless others up and down the coast. Some of America’s most endangered habitats are California’s coastal prairies and grasslands, scrublands, and wetlands that inhabit these terraces.
Fritillaria affinis var. tristulis –
In late winter into early spring this dramatic rare and endangered native
lily blooms along the edges of coastal terraces and bluffs in Marin County.
Its many common names include Coast Checker Lilly, Point Reyes Chocolate Lily,
Marin Chocolate Lily.
Fritillaria affinis var. tristulis
Late Winter Vernal Pool
