Banana Slugs

For such an innocuous forest dweller, the banana slug (a mollusk in the genus Ariolimax ) harbors some wildly bizarre secrets. Of course, a few normal factoids apply—they grow to almost 10 inches long, can travel 6 ½ inches per minute and maintain a diet of leaves, dead plants, mushrooms and animal droppings. Banana slugs are the second largest slug in the world and are found in the western coastal coniferous forest floors between Santa Cruz and Alaska, where they crawl beneath coastal redwoods, Douglas firs and Sitka spruces. They typically sport a slimy overripe banana look complete with brown spots; however, some can be green, brown or white.

The banana slug's diet and habitat are really the only remotely normal things about them. On the whole, these slugs are jaw-droppingly weird. They breathe through their skin. Their eyes sit on the end of retractable antennas, and they essentially have an “off” button that causes estivation—a defense mechanism against unfavorable conditions (heat and dryness). During estivation, the banana slug will secrete a layer of protective mucus, bury itself in soil and leaves, and effectively shut down until conditions are livable.

The slimy mucus layer plays several roles in the life of a banana slug. It protects from dehydration, sends chemical signals and aids in movement and respiration. A curious animal that prods the banana slug with its nose or tongue will quickly discover that the slime acts as an anesthetic. This is why banana slugs have no natural predators—and why “lick the banana slug” is a popular dare among coastal forest hikers.

But it’s their sexual behavior that’s most…erm…fascinating. As hermaphrodites, banana slugs possess both male and female reproductive organs, allowing self-fertilization—no mate needed. The banana slug can reproduce all on its own. (The physical details of this feat remain a bit murky, but with the penis near the slug's tail and the genital pore near its head, one imagines a circular configuration.) Sexual mating, however, is a far more common choice.

Once a slug has decided to mate, it will secrete a chemical-laden slime that flags down other consenting slugs. The partners begin by eating each other’s slime. These love bites prime a genetic exchange in which each slug inserts its penis into the other’s genital pore. Copulation can last for hours in this yin-yang like formation. Talk about the circle of life.

And then the grand finale: The Penis Gnaw-off. Perhaps that’s not the technical term, but it’s accurate nonetheless. At the end of sex, one or both of the banana slugs will chew off the other’s penis to disengage from blissful union.

And no, their penises do not grow back.

Photo credit: Andy Goryachev/Wikipedia

Mountain Lion Crossing

Anyone who has driven the too-narrow, snaking lanes of Highway 17 can attest to its reputation as one of California’s most treacherous highways, a Blood Alley of dense traffic, blind corners and tight shoulders. But commuters and vacationers aren’t the only ones who have to brave its perils. On either side of Highway 17, the forest teems with wildlife. The roadway slices through expansive habitats of mammals like black-tailed deer, coyotes and mountain lions, forcing those animals to continuously negotiate treacherous crossings—often with deadly results.

Earlier this summer, a young mountain lion wandered into an aqueduct near downtown Santa Cruz, remaining trapped there until puma researchers tranquilized and relocated it. But five months after its return to the wild, the famous “downtown mountain lion” was struck and killed on Highway 17.

The young lion’s demise highlights one of the main problems with wildlife’s overlap with our world: negotiating the roads. Statewide, an estimated 60 mountain lions are killed on highways each year; roadkill is the second-most common cause of mountain lion deaths (the first is depredation, or the permitted killing of a puma following an attack on livestock). In the Santa Cruz Mountains, five big cats have died on Highway 17 in the last several years.

“Navigating the 17 is dangerous for humans and wildlife,” says Dan Medeiros, Projects Director at the Land Trust of Santa Cruz County. “It causes fatalities for both of us.”

In the case of Highway 17, what makes it safer for humans makes it more perilous for animals. While the tall center median adds a layer of security for commuters rounding curves at 50 mph, it’s the most dangerous part for a mountain lion. Too high for pumas to see the other side, the jump over the divider becomes literally a leap of faith—especially at night.

A local effort is underway to help the big cats. Between the Land Trust of Santa Cruz County, the California Department of Transportation and the Bay Area Puma Project, ideas to facilitate safe critter-crossings are stirring.

Wildlife Crossing Hotspot

There are two wildlife-crossing “hotspots” along Highway 17. The land adjacent to these more frequently crossed areas is fairly underdeveloped, making it ideal habitat for wildlife (aside from the live version of Frogger that bisects it). One of these wildlife-crossing hotspots, Laurel Curve, is the site of a plan to help animals cross safely. It’s also just two or three miles from where the downtown mountain lion met its maker.

“From the Puma Project’s mountain lion tracking data, we see that this is a heavy crossing area for mountain lions, and probably a lot of other types of wildlife,” says Medeiros.

Globally, animal crossing issues have been addressed through underpass or overpass construction and fences that guide wildlife toward safe crossings. “It comes down to two basic things: Is there a place for a passage? And is there wildlife habitat on either side?” explains Medeiros. “For this project, the answer is yes to both.”

Though a plan to funnel wildlife under Highway 17 at Laurel Curve has not been approved by all partners involved, it appears to be in the works. In its fall newsletter, the Land Trust announced it had signed an option to buy a 10-acre property near Laurel Curve and was hoping to secure two larger properties on either side of the highway totaling 340 acres.

The underpass would focus on land connectivity— essentially habitat connection—a priority for the Land Trust. “Santa Cruz is characterized by amazing open spaces,” says Medeiros. “But these spaces are fragmented, and one of the biggest barriers is Highway 17.” These fragmentations cut off territory and lead to isolation of animals, which is exactly the problem the underpass would aim to mitigate.

Other animals, too, would benefit. “Basically we’re looking for not only mountain lion connectivity, but connectivity for all of wildlife,” says Nancy Degran, the Caltrans biologist working on the project.

Mountain lion researchers are hoping for better habitat connectivity not just within the Santa Cruz Mountains but throughout the region. For puma health it's important that the animals be able to roam and connect with other populations. Male mountain lions in particular establish large territories, up to 200 square miles in some cases. Santa Cruz Puma Project Director Chris Wilmers explained at a Dec. 4 lecture hosted by the Land Trust that the Santa Cruz Mountains host 50-100 mountain lions—not quite enough to maintain healthy genetic variability over the long haul. "Ours is already low," said Wilmers, "so it's important to connect to the Hamilton and Gabilan ranges."

Those involved in manifesting the Laurel Curve underpass acknowledge that the path from project infancy to completion is long and complicated, but they’re undeterred. Says Medeiros, “It’s a long way out and could take years, but we’re pretty hopeful.”

Photo credit: cm0riss0n/Creative Commons.

Santa Cruz Westside Pump Track Officially Open

The Westside pump track was born out of chit-chat. While standing around on the sidelines of a youth soccer game, Another Bike Shop owner Chris Wagner-Jauregg, real estate developer William Ow and Mayor Hilary Bryant proposed an idea that sparked the beginnings of the city of Santa Cruz’s first pump track. “Sometimes when the kids’ soccer games get a little slow on the sidelines, some good things can come out of it,” says Bryant, reflecting on their initial pump track thoughts.

The idea is now a popular reality. With a snip of the comically giant scissors needed at any official ribbon-cutting ceremony, Mayor Hilary Bryant declared Saturday, Nov. 23 Westside Pump Track Day in the city of Santa Cruz at a well-attended ceremony. Afterward, while parents watched from the stands, kids of all ages crowded the gates and patiently awaited their turn on the track, which lies on an empty lot across from Santa Cruz Bicycles headquarters in the old Wrigley building.

“There’s a huge demand, especially in the youth demographic. It’s just incredible how many kids are using it,” says Wagner-Jauregg.

A pump track is a series of dirt mounds meant to build momentum and allow bikers to “carve” and flow through the track without pedaling. Kyle Jameson, Santa Cruz Bicycles employee and emerging professional mountain biker, designed the track, perfecting its ebb and flow.

“When you talk about a track, you talk about flow. This pump track has great flow. There’s really a science, an art even, to finding the right height of the mounds of dirt and getting the ratios just right,” says Wagner-Jauregg, original instigator of the pump track. “The first time I jumped on it, I did five laps in a row without pedaling. This kind of flow is great for the kids using the track.”

The Ow family is lending the land that the pump track is built on for $1 a year. Between city officials, parks and recreation leaders and local biking businesses, Wagner-Jauregg recruited the help of both private and public sectors of Santa Cruz. The collaboration and the overwhelming support of the community sparked the transition from idea to reality.

Santa Cruz Bicycles representative Jon Forsberg was immediately drawn to the idea of the track. “We’re really psyched about it. When we found out about it from Chris at ABS we were super energized to take part in it,” Forsberg said. “The second I heard him mention a pump track by the farmers market, I had to ask how we could get involved.”

Santa Cruz Bicycles is taking on the role of pump track caretaker, monitoring the maintenance of the park and the opening and closing times. The contributions Santa Cruz Bicycles made was all about making it happen for the community. “We’re really trying to lend support as a Santa Cruz manufacturer that has some weight in the cycling community so we can give back to Santa Cruz,” Forsberg said.

The pump track accommodates all ages and skill levels, as riders pick and choose the lines within the track that fit their comfort zone. The design even incorporates a mini track for the little tykes, which the youngest pump track enthusiast—just 3 years old—took full advantage of on Saturday.

Kelly Detro, a mountain biker and student at UC Santa Cruz, is especially excited about the westside pump track. “It’s literally across the street from my house. It’s convenient and a good way to de-stress after being on campus all day.”

Judging by the turnout opening day, the Santa Cruz community is in full support. As Bryant cheered on the riders, she commented on the pump track’s effects on community. “I think it’s a wonderful addition to the Westside, and I think you’re going to see kids out here every afternoon. It’s going to be a place for our youth to gather. I love the fact that we have so many little guys and girls who are ready to ride this track.”

Anchovies

They travel in massive hordes, are a keystone ocean species, and are even a little glitzy. Yet anchovies are primarily known for being a commonly picked-off pizza topping.

The 144 oily species of anchovy make up the the Engraulidae family, and are a paramount contributor in maintaining the balance in marine life populations, especially in temperate waters. A huge range of fishes, birds, and mammals depend on anchovies as a main food source. These little fish even satiate some of the ocean’s most enormous critters, including humpback whales.

Anchovies inhabit the Atlantic, Indian, and Pacific Oceans, and spawn their transparent, buoyant, sausage-shaped eggs during the summer months when the water is warmer. Shortly after fertilization, the tiny hatchlings are born, just under a half-inch long. Typically they grow to 5 inches, but can reach a sizable (in the anchovy world) 18 inches.

Up close, anchovies have an obvious green hue, but a single silver stripe spans their body, creating a shimmery, metallic appearance. Their average lifespan hovers around four years, but some have been recorded to reach the ripe age of seven.

Anchovies typically eat plankton and fry—newly hatched fish. To feed, they swim through the ocean with their mouths agape, appearing perpetually surprised. Since their yawning mouth lets in a significant amount of non-edible junk, a filtration system separates food from common ocean muck. Once food and muck are separated, their teensy, razor-sharp teeth munch down the sustenance.

Because they’re rather helpless on their own, anchovies employ the “safety in numbers” survival strategy. These little fish have to band together to have any hope of surviving. They congregate by the thousands and cruise the ocean in tightly knit schools. Their goal is to deter predators with sheer magnitude.

When predators attempt to feed, the anchovies form a defense mechanism known as a bait ball — a violent swirl of thousands of fish trying to overwhelm and hinder predator success. The bait ball also protects against easy, individual pick-offs. While a massive, whirling tornado of thousands of glinting life forms isn’t particularly inviting, hungry marine mammals gets their fill of these salty morsels, keeping the predator-prey balance in check.

Photo credit: Cliff/Creative Commons/Wikimedia.

Coming Soon: Cycling Around Monterey Bay

The Santa Cruz County Regional Transportation Commission has adopted a blueprint for Santa Cruz County’s 50-mile portion of the Monterey Bay Sanctuary Scenic Trail (MBSST). The MBSST will traverse beaches, ocean bluffs and exquisite countryside, tracing the coast from the Santa Cruz/San Mateo county line down to Pacific Grove in Monterey County. The Santa Cruz County portion will use the 32-mile Branch Rail Line between Watsonville and Davenport as a guide.

Projected time of completion for the $126.7 million dollar Santa Cruz County megatrail is years away, according to the Santa Cruz Sentinel. Our part of the MBSST is segmented into 20 discrete components, essentially breaking down the extensive network of trails into puzzle pieces that contribute to the collective picture at the end.

Construction on at least one segment could begin soon. On Oct. 22 the Santa Cruz City Council voted to pursue funding for a key section of the Rail Trail (the term for the part of the MBSST that runs along the Branch Rail Line); the three-mile segment will extend from Natural Bridges to the Boardwalk along the railroad right of way and cost an estimated $5.3 million, $1 million of which will come from city coffers. The rest will be from grants, if all goes as planned.

The Sentinel reports that South County farmers have expressed concerns over trespassing and potential clashes with trail users and environmental regulators over field fumigation and other agricultural activities taking place near the MBSST. While their request to have a four-mile segment of the trail stricken from the plan was declined, the RTC has agreed to address their concerns.

The Branch Rail Line, purchased in October 2012 from Union Pacific by the RTC for $14.2 million, is key to the MBSST in Santa Cruz, as it will form the “spine” of the braided network of trails for its 32-mile length. Smaller MBSST trails will spike off the Rail Trail, steering cyclists and pedestrians into the nooks and crannies of the terrain surrounding Monterey Bay. According to the executive summary of the Monterey Bay Sanctuary Scenic Trail Final Master Plan, 88 parks, 42 schools, and over half the county’s population are to be found within one mile of the corridor.

Besides creating an attraction for tourists, the MBSST will create safer cycling routes in Santa Cruz County, where at least four cyclists have died in collisions with cars in the last five years, with many more injured. The most recent victim was 40-year-old Joshua Alper, who was killed on Highway 1 six days ago when a driver fell asleep and veered across the road.

With the RTC handling trail construction in Santa Cruz County and the Transportation Agency for Monterey County taking charge of the trails in Monterey, the goal is an integrated network that successfully links the two counties together. Much of the Monterey County portion of the MBSST (from Pacific Grove to Castroville) is already complete.

With additional reporting by Traci Hukill

Sea Star Disease a Mystery

A recent influx of disease has taken a destructive toll on sea stars, reducing them from iconic marine echinoderms to blobs of unrecognizable sludge. The Santa Cruz Sentinel reports sea star wasting diseases have been documented before, but this wipeout is unlike any prior. Usually, sea star wasting diseases emerge in warm-water cycles and are confined to smaller regions. In this epidemic, the disease has spread during a cold-water cycle from the coast of Southern California all the way to Alaska. Locally, sea stars are typically found at Natural Bridges, Greyhound Rock and other rocky shorelines.

So far, researchers understand the symptoms once the sea star is infected, but the “how” and “why” are still under investigation. Upon contraction of the disease, sea stars develop cuts in their tissue that inevitably lead to infection and tissue decay. In just a few days, the sea star fragments into pieces, losing its legs. This loss of limbs is known as necrosis, a telltale sign in any sea star wasting disease, and it leaves the legless sea star lacking any star-like qualities—just a shapeless mess of echinoderm goop.

Pete Raimondi, head of UC Santa Cruz's Ecology and Evolutionary Biology lab, is leading the investigation into the roots of the current sea star die-off. The first step is pinpointing the disease’s origin. "If we can find the point of initiation, that will help us find causation," Raimondi told the Sentinel. "It's a classic epidemiological mystery."

With disease-tracking, downloadable documentation available to ordinary tidepoolers, Raimondi and other researchers are hopeful that the tidepooling community will be helpful citizens of science and contribute their knowledge on the spread of the disease. Those interested in contributing to the effort should visit the Pacific Rocky Intertidal Monitoring page for instructions and downloadable spreadsheets.

Photo credit: Aldaron/Creative Commons

New Coldwater Classic Format A Crowd Pleaser

As the original surf town, Santa Cruz relishes the opportunity to host the world champions of surfing in the cold waters of Steamer Lane every year. In the past, the O’Neill Coldwater Classic surf competition facilitated the superstars’ sojourn, bringing them in for a wave-carving, tail-throwing showdown. What could beat that? Apparently, the underdogs of the surf world—the locals, the unsponsored and the unexpected. Of course it’s sick to see Kelly Slater shred the waves, but among the audience congregated at the Lane on Wednesday, the consensus was clear: It’s just as sick to uncover brand new raw talent. Maybe sicker.

This year the Coldwater Classic switched up the usual suspects, replacing the traditional champs with a combination of amateurs and unsponsored competitors. O’Neill even sweetened the deal with a winner-take-all $50,000 prize purse, which went to Torrey Meister of the Big Island on Wednesday afternoon. About a quarter of onlookers didn’t even know about the change-up. They were just there for some quality surfing, no reputation or name brands required. But those who were aware of the Coldwater Classic’s new game plan generally sang the same tune.

“I think it’s really awesome to give people who may not be represented a chance in a bigger competition,” said Santa Cruz local Sheryl Kern-Jones. “It can work them into the professional circuit. After all, it’s always better to introduce more surfers into the Coldwater Classic and have new competition than keep the talent the same.”

Another spectator, Nancy Eldrege, chimed in, “It gives these kids a real opportunity to move up, one that they may not otherwise have.”

Interested in the full spectrum of opinions, I asked a high school girl her thoughts on the champion-to-underdog switcheroo. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I just come ’cause they’re hot.”

Michael Cho, a particularly knowledgeable and animated audience member, came down solidly on the side of the new CWC. “For the Coldwater Classic to be an unsponsored event is weirdly cool,” he said. “You get to see the young, unsponsored, upcoming surfers compete against the unsponsored veterans of the cold water. It’s pretty rad.”

Between cheers for his favorite local surfer, Cho illustrated the diversity of competitors. “Sean Burns is only 21. I don’t think he’s ever surfed in the Coldwater Classic, but he’s a great example of O’Neill encouraging new surfers to join the sport. Usually every other year you see the typical surfers like Kelly Slater. But this time, I don’t even know half the people out here, and I come and see them bustin’ the sickest moves. It’s awesome.”

But wave-watcher Clyde Zirbel summed it up best: “I think it’s great that unsponsored surfers can come out here, have a good day and get their name out. They deserve to be noticed.”

Tour Through a Mess of Monarchs

I get excited when I see one butterfly. Last weekend I joined a guided tour with Natural Bridges State Beach docent Alyse Lui and saw more than 2,000 of them. October marks the arrival of monarch butterflies from the Rocky Mountain range, and Natural Bridges hosts these lepidopterids in all of their delicate glory.

Much like the monarchs before a big migration, the tour starts with the basics: food. Lui, a nature enthusiast in a brown Friends of Santa Cruz State Parks jacket, leads us to a fenced-in 20ft x 20ft rectangle where we find about a dozen types of milkweed. Before their migration, monarchs plump up on milkweed and nectar, storing as much body fat as they can for the next 2,000 wind-blown miles.

“Milkweed is actually poisonous, but it’s their favorite, and the female monarchs are very picky about where they lay their eggs—it’s milkweed or nothing,” says Lui.

Santa Cruz’s dependable 65-degree fall weather draws the butterflies to the thick canopy of Natural Bridge’s eucalyptus grove—the tour’s main event. From the milkweed garden we amble down a zigzagging wooden walkway, submerging ourselves into the chilly shade of the eucalyptus trees. The walkway winds back and forth through a tranquil scene punctuated with laminated posters of butterfly trivia. About three-quarters of the way down the ramp we’ve yet to see a butterfly. But in the last stretch of the walkway our tour pauses at a telescope angled slightly skyward. All of our eyes naturally trace the telescope’s line of vision, and next to me, a little girl gasps and points. “OH! There they are!” My thoughts exactly.

Thousands are nestled in trees, layered in bushes and fluttering across the sky. Lui urges us to peer through the telescope and “get up close and personal.” Butterflies spill outside of the scope of the lens and layer on top of each other like shingles on a roof. Even in (what I imagine) are uncomfortably close quarters, the clouds of orange and black buzz with energy and motion.

Just beyond the telescope is an expansive wooden platform directly below the bulk of the monarchs. This is where most spectators collect. Families with young children tend to visit the butterflies, making for a fairly dependable kid-gets-excited followed by mom-shushes-kid pattern. Please everyone, use your “butterfly voices.”

Third graders on field trips, locals and tourists all quietly congregate alongside the families and marvel at the sights in the pit of the grove. Not many crowds of people are this peaceful. It’s hard to be stressed when you’re surrounded by 2,000 butterflies (something I’ll keep in mind for finals week).

In past years, Lui explains, the monarch count exceeded 4,000, but numbers have dwindled considerably. Natural Bridges’ naturalists speculate that the overall decrease in monarchs stems from ebbing milkweed growth and excessive pesticide usage. But by no means have butterfly lovers lost hope. Planting milkweed, especially in the Bay Area, has shown promising rebound potential for the monarchs.

At Natural Bridges, numbers fell during a period of violent winds in the 1990s. It’s not that the butterflies were helplessly blown away; it’s that the eucalyptus trees were losing limbs from the intense gusts.

Monterey pine trees used to expand across most of Natural Bridges, providing the eucalyptus grove with protection from blustery winds. But when pitch canker—a pine tree-killing disease—infected the vast majority of pines they had to be removed, leaving the eucalyptus grove vulnerable. Large monarch-attracting branches were torn off and a small number of eucalyptus trees were blown over. Cypress trees were planted as a new source of wind protection and have proven to be a sturdy shield, allowing some monarchs to retain their temporary home at Natural Bridges.

Though this year’s count is only around half as much as previous years, the thick of the season hasn’t hit yet. Butterflies typically stay at Natural Bridges until late January, but peak in mid-November.

Heading back up the wooden walkway, a small child passes me and grins. “I just saw one!” he exclaims. I smile and congratulate him. He’s in for a real treat.

Santa Cruz Harbor’s Stinky Situation

The anchovies’ reputation as Monterey area’s #1 food supply went belly-up over the weekend when these fish found themselves trapped in the Santa Cruz harbor. 

Abrupt and unexpected, the massive anchovy movement quickly depleted the oxygen level in the harbor, sparking a huge anchovy die-off. Though uncommon, it’s happened on four previous occasions, each time resulting in 1,000 to 2,000 tons of dead fish tying up the harbor.

The Santa Cruz Sentinel reports that the Port District, in search of a solution, has installed 30 aerators to circulate and replenish oxygen levels, but the aerators aren't fish revivers. For now, it’s up to volunteers, organizations like Save Our Shores, and hungry scavengers to dispel the stinky bulk of floating anchovies.

Plastic to Art - A Colorful Transition

Ziploc bags, bottle tops, yogurt lids, juice box straws, Lunchables boxes…the kinds of plastic half-buried in the sand vary widely and the supply is never ending. While it’s disheartening, there may be a flip-side to plucking cheese spreaders from the sand. Bright, colorful and durable, plastic is intrinsically attractive, and for some, inspirational. The combination of the plastic’s aesthetic potential and the growing awareness of beach pollution sparked Judith and Richard Lang’s transformative art movement: “Plastic Forever.” For over two decades the Langs have been picking up pieces of plastic from Kehoe Beach, a part of Point Reyes National Seashores.

“We got tired of hearing the facts and statistics about what’s going on over the whole planet. It’s numbing to the mind. So we thought, if we clean up 1,000 yards of one beach, we could make a real difference,” says Richard.

These past years have brought countless pieces of art including sculptures, bottle cap mosaics, and even jewelry. “We’re artists first and we come to it from that sensibility,” says Judith.

Both Langs were artists decades before Plastics Forever even surfaced. In 1999, on their first date at Kehoe Beach, they discovered each was independently collecting plastic and transforming it into art (aww). This fateful coincidence grew into the forces that drive Plastic Forever—love for Kehoe Beach, love for art, and love for each other.

Collecting and molding over two tons of plastic into whimsical art has encouraged the Langs to support companies that rethink their products and packaging systems to eliminate unnecessary plastic. “We just discovered a yogurt that comes in a returnable, re-useable glass container and we’re really keen on supporting these kinds of companies. It’s one way that we can change ourselves and hopefully change everyone along the way,” says Judith.

Though plastic pollution is a worldwide problem, the Langs concentrate their efforts solely on Kehoe Beach. Better to focus on a single cause, they figure, and make a tangible difference than spread efforts too thin.

With all their energy pin-pointed on Kehoe Beach, they’ve become deeply invested in its history, geography and oceanography, connecting them further with issues like overfishing and marine pollution. Finding anti-depressants, among other things, in local salmon is a huge red flag and sheds light on the harm our throw-away culture has on the ecosystem, says Richard. “We hate plastic, totally.”

They subscribe to the idea that local efforts are what comprise a global effort, and endorse this sentiment when individuals ask how to help the cause. For those who are fortunate enough to live close to the beach, follow their lead. Those inland can still make a difference.

“We invite you to look at the gutter, look at the sidewalk and along the freeway to see the vast amounts of plastic debris and kinds of garbage. If we don’t pick it up here, we’re going to be picking it up on the beach,” says Judith.

Whale Soup

With the unbelievable number of whales congregating in Monterey Bay these days, calling it “whale soup” isn’t far off the mark. But while they’re the main attraction, whales are really just a fraction of this magnificent marine showcase. On a recent trip I took with Monterey Bay Whale Watch, we were floored by sightings of more than 100 dolphins (Risso’s and Pacific White-sided), at least 30 humpback whales and a rare but exquisite look at the ocean’s top predator: the orca.

Why the party in Monterey Bay? Last month, the anchovy population exploded, drawing in marine life in unheard-of numbers. It’s a feeding frenzy for the masses.

Even in the shelter of the harbor, marine life teems. Otters, harbor seals and sea lions lounge and play along the docks and buoys. Sea lions tend to amass along the breakwater of local harbors, a noisy, not to mention smelly, send-off. I’ll admit that in that part of the harbor, I’m a mouth-breather.

As we left the Monterey harbor and ventured closer to the whale hot-spots, pods of Risso’s and Pacific White-sided dolphins began to appear, and after a few minutes we were surrounded by a herd of more than 100 dolphins. Even more incredibly, 50-foot humpback whales started to surface.

But then we got the call. A neighboring whale watching boat had spotted Fat Fin, a favored killer whale. Because this black-and-white beauty is only seen every 2-3 weeks, we seized the opportunity and adjusted our boat, killer whale-bound. Each one has a huge dorsal fin, up to six feet tall, and that’s exactly what first caught our eye. After an hour of trailing His Majesty, we set back to find our humpback friends and were not disappointed.

We happened upon a cow and calf cruising to dinner. Full of energy, this calf showed off for us with three spectacular breaches while its mother casually swam alongside the boat. There’s not a whole lot to fear when you weigh up to 45 tons, so the whales don’t mind getting pretty close—some boats even get bumped. It was quite a spectacle, especially as the sun dipped below the mountains, coloring the residual clouds brilliant shades of pink and orange.

About to dock, we found an unexpected welcome-back party. Well, less of a welcome-back party than a snoozing blob of sea lion, smack in the middle of our disembark area. Needless to say, both parties were surprised upon arrival.

At the end of the day, it's an ocean wide game of follow-the-leader, and the anchovies are #1.

A Genetic Makeover: From Polar Bear to Brown Bear

Despite their blatant physical differences in fur color and size, polar bears and brown bears have a closely knit genetic makeup, so close that the two produce fertile offspring. Naturally, hybrids are expected to look half and half. But ecologist Beth Shapiro, of the University of California, Santa Cruz, and a team of researchers have new evidence that suggests hybridizing these bears is washing the “polar” right out of them.

Shapiro and her team’s conclusions and new species-evolution hypothesis were published on March 14 in PLOS Genetics.

Until recently, scientists believed all polar bears may have arisen from a smaller population of brown bears. But this new research shows polar bears are clean of brown bear genes, and over generations, can transform a polar bear population to brown bears.

“What our data suggested was a gradual addition of these male brown bears into the polar bear population,” says graduate student James Cahill, of UC Santa Cruz, the study’s first author.

During the last ice age a group of islands called Alaska’s Admiralty, Baranof and Chicagof Islands, or ABC Islands, was covered in glaciers – ideal for polar bears. But when the ice age ended about 10,000 years ago and glaciers receded, the polar bears were stranded there.

Results stemmed from a DNA analysis of 10 bears: seven polar bears, two brown bears and one black bear. Scientists compared different combinations of polar bear, brown bear and black bear DNA against each other, and took note of differing genes.  

Physically, mainland brown bears and ABC brown bears are identical. But genetically, the ABC brown bears harbor a peculiar secret. A larger portion, 6.5 percent, of their maternally inherited X chromosome is polar bear DNA, whereas the rest of the genome is only 1 percent polar bear DNA. This suggests ABC bears have a greater genetic overlap with female polar bears than male polar bears.

Male brown bears from the mainland swam to the islands in an instinctual pursuit of new territory. These wandering brown bears mated with female polar bears. Over time, the polar bear population steadily dwindled. They transformed into brown bears without so much as a shred of visible evidence to their polar bear past.

“Toward the end of the population conversion, these are basically brown bears that just have echoes of what was once a polar bear population,” says Cahill.

Since the initially sequenced 10 bears, Cahill and other researchers have sequenced five more brown bear genomes – including two from the ABC islands with even more evidence of a polar bear lineage. Cahill will be presenting the research on the new brown bears at The Biology of Genomes conference later this month at Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory.

The team mainly examined the genetic relationships among polar bears and the ABC brown bears – but not the bigger questions of when and how polar bears first arose. The bottom line of explaining the population conversion is clear, Cahill said: “To show the tenuousness of what it is to be a polar bear.”

As temperatures rise, so too does our anxiety about this keystone Arctic predator’s resilience as a species. Shrinking Artic ice pushes polar bear habitats and brown bear habitats uncomfortably close, sharply increasing the likelihood of a new wave of population conversion.

Bats Kindle New Ideas About Wildfire

For most wildlife, forest fires mean destruction and death. But a new study finds that bats are unscathed by fire, and some may even benefit after a blaze.

Ecologists examined bat livelihood in burned and unburned areas of the Sierra Nevada one year after a colossal, human-caused wildfire. Surprisingly, deadlier fires made for livelier bats.

Bat ecologist Winifred Frick of the University of California, Santa Cruz, and a team of scientists discovered bats prosper in burned habitats. Charred trees mean new homes and more food, they believe.

The results show that not all wildfire-wildlife interactions all detrimental, the team maintains an insight that may lead to more effective wildfire policies. The journal PLOS ONE published the team’s findings on March 6^th.

Frick and her team of ecologists observed bat activity in the aftermath of the 2002 McNally Fire, which burned 150,000 acres in the southern Sierra Nevada. Previously, scientists had studied the effect of wildfire on only a narrow range of animals – mostly birds and small mammals.

The researchers set up equipment in the forest one year after the McNally Fire. They took advantage of the fire’s mosaic patterns to compare bat activity across a spectrum of landscapes: unburned, moderately burned, and severely burned. In each targeted area, high-frequency microphones captured the silent shrieks of six groups of bats in their nightly scour for dinner.

All six groups showed equal or higher activity in burned areas when compared to unburned areas. “Bats could be resilient to this kind of disturbance,” says Frick. “We go out there and see a charred landscape and we think it’s totally destroyed, but the bats may find it a productive habitat for their needs.”

Bats took advantage of several of the wildfire’s effects, scientists believe. “Fire may provide a pulse of insects immediately after the fire and create roosting habitat later on as snags decay and their bark peels back,” says coauthor Michael Buchalski, a doctoral student at Western Michigan University. The cut-down in “clutter” opens up new areas for insect raids, he adds.

Animals that happily recover after a raging wildfire suggest that benefits of forest fire are more widely spread than scientists previously believed. At least among bat populations, wildfire plays a role in keeping forest communities balanced. The result may encourage land managers to rethink techniques in post-fire care and public land-burning policies, the team states.

How do geckos stick to der Waals?

You gape as a little lizard skitters across the ceiling, nervous it might drop right onto your head. But this lizard won’t fall, so just enjoy this wonder of nature’s engineering. The sticky-footed critter above you, better known as a gecko, can adhere to just about any dry surface.

Does this acrobat use suction-cupped feet? Not even close. Geckos have millions of specialized hairs on the bottom of their toes called setae. Each setae splits into hundreds of even tinier hairs called spatulae. On a molecular level, the spatulae and any surface are drawn to one another, like weak magnets. This molecule-to-molecule attraction is known as the Van der Waals force. But since this force is relatively weak, the gecko’s phenomenal grip depends on sheer numbers. Countless rows of spatulae increase the surface area for Van der Waals interactions – a collective attraction that makes the binding force so secure.

In fact, the gecko is more than secure. A single toe, with its millions of ultra-tiny grippers, could support its entire body weight. Scientists are exploring ways to make an artificial gecko-grip inspired by the Van der Waals force. Who knows, maybe we’ll all have sticky feet someday.