From Snails to Whales: Erik Wilke

Showing posts with label Erik Wilke. Show all posts

Thursday, July 24, 2014

An exploration of the Harbor & Islands in style, or, Fishing as Ecosystem immersion

Erik Wilke

On Friday the 18^th, we explored the Boston harbor with Captain Charlie. We found the water to be relatively clear (I could see the fish when we reeled them in several feet down before they were pulled up).

One of my favorite pieces of information was from Professor Berman as were just getting to where we were going to fish. We were told that the cormorants don't have oily bodies, and as such don't really have much insulation (they are diving birds, so that makes sense). Therefore, they only spend time in the water that they can use to fish, so if you see a cormorant in the water diving, there’s a good likelihood of fish.

We first ‘met’ some sea worms, which we promptly put on fishing hooks, but not before observing their fin-like appendages all along their body in a ruddy orange color against the body’s light grey to brown.

The first fish we caught was a Black Sea bass (Centropristis striata), about 14-15 inches long and a male. The hump above its head showed that it was completing the process of switching genders, as Black sea bass start off in the world as female (to maximize breeding). Patrick caught the one pictured below. This one had beautiful green scale pigmentation as well as they gray blue black coloration (hence the name) and a white underbelly.

However, they weren’t the only fish in the sea. Classmates caught two flounder and a silver hake. The flounder were about a foot and a foot and a half respectively (from right), with one of them having green-brown coloration and the other having a light brown coloration. Both of them were right eye flounder—meaning that they originally had eyes on both sides but gradually the left eye moved to their right side, allowing them to look all around them and above, because they feed around the bottom.

Then, a striped bass (Morone saxatilis) was caught. It was about 3’2’’ in length and had green-gray coloration on its top and sides as well as defined gray stripes along its side, leading to a white underbelly. Inside the gills (it was large enough to see inside the hole), were several red frond-looking gills which filtered and drew oxygen from the water. I’d imagine if you took them out and compared them to lung tissue, you might find some similarities.

Then we went to Lovell’s island. Upon reaching the island, we encountered some fauna on our way to the beach. On the beach, however, we came across a stretch of tide pools, wherein we found periwinkles (sea snails), Asian shore crab (which is invading from long island coast to near Portland, Maine), as well as some small fish that swam in schools (see video). I had a hard time attempting to get a closer look at them but they could be very small mummichogs or gobies or some other similarly shaped and sized fish. Interestingly enough, I did not see any tunicates like we did on the docks. Perhaps a further excursion would find them, I bet they need to be submerged more often to survive. The crab was around 2 inches long and the sea snail was about the size of a pea or about ½ inch in diameter. We also encountered some hermit crabs roughly the same size or slightly bigger than the sea snails. Additionally,we found and sampled some slipper shell clams, ranging from 2 inches across to about 4 inches.

Part 2

We also found and discovered some land snails (Cepaea nemoralis- also in the mollusca family like the slipper shell clams) , which would have had to have been dispersed to the island. A friend of mine from Harvard (he works with the Dept. of the Interior on invasive species) thinks that birds carried him, while his daughter thinks that campers on the island would have brought them via tents and equipment on land. I like both hypotheses and I’d bet that both have occurred in the past.

Bonus: Striped Bass encountered in my kitchen, alongside what appears to be lemon, garlic, a bit of an herb such as oregano.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Team Somethingfishy's Observational Foray onto the docks of the Barking Crab

These are our observations from under the docks of the Barking Crab.

Skeleton Shrimp -very small, maybe ½ inch long

Club Tunicate: Stylea clava

from… (http://dtc.pima.edu/blc/182/lesson10/10step3/10step3images/club_tunicate.jpg)

found with barnacles and sea lettuce.

Pleated Sea Squirt Stylea plicata

Image courtesy of projectnoa.org

(http://lh6.ggpht.com/y3gxEEJcolW-cfLieOH2JAmnS6-57bqWy-AXzbfcNOW8B0Hi_zr35xDaxMrR1H2G9yZNDCdXvQDSGwg4NQbDVw=s580)

Certain species of acorn barnacle Semibalanus balanoides such as Thatched Barnacles.

(http://seanet.stanford.edu/RockyShore/Barnacles/balanus_gla580.jpg-- Copyright James Watanabe

Rockweed (Ascophyllum nodosum) some was on a barnacle and some had been dislodged and was floating by.

(http://g4.img-dpreview.com/C0476AE719C7488084725B741E7D9C50.jpg)

Sea Lettuce with skeleton shrimp

Waterlouse (Asellus aquaticus)

these are tiny, maybe a 1/8th inch long and were everywhere. One mussel had over a dozen of them.

Starfish

Boreal Asterias

This one hitched a ride on the lobster trap that was hauled in. possibly 1inch from arm to arm.

Orange Sheath Tunicate

This stuff was as common as the sea lettuce, varying in size from small colonies (like pictured here) to much larger ones).

Note: this was taken at Fan Pier.

Shells from Birds dropping them to eat

Mussels are dropped from great heights to be cracked open and eaten by seagulls.

Jellyfish

Moon Jelly (Aurelia Aurita)

approx. 3in. diameter

Thick, like muscle (expected it to be less durable)

Most have the 3-4 clover like reproductive organs; this one did not.

Snow Crab (Spider Crab Family)- this one was rather grimy, covered with algae or other plant life, or perhaps just muck.

North Atlantic lobster

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Harbor excursion & the sharing of an ecosystem

The most notable thing about our harbor sojourn to me was that we could remain in a human dominated habitat and examine at a relatively close distance a whole other ecosystem. It might not have always been so lush (as the harbor and Charles river used to be much more polluted than today), but it is interesting to me that we as humans can still (perhaps against our will) carve out space for other living things. You’d think with all the paving and industry and transformation that the environment of Boston has taken on, (like how the long wharf stretched to the customs house but now is much more filled in), there’d be little to no room for other life, or that the ecosystem would completely restructure or fall apart. However, it seems like it adapts pretty well (as evidenced by the algae and seaweed by the office dock).

At first, we saw the environment of the north end. Aside from the occasional seagull, we humans dominate the paved parts and developed areas. However, a glance in the water revealed large striped bass (Pictured below), probably around 3ft. long or larger, who were quite hungry. Here is a picture that someone took of the bass from underwater, which I thought was a great shot:

Courtesy of riptideusa at: http://stripes.forumchitchat.com/post/under-water-striped-bass-pics-5065536

After seeing a mangy mallard, we examined the bass as I said before; and the ducks retreated to one side, using a drainpipe as a shower. This is one of the means of adaptation I am talking about, that the creatures that inhabit the ecosystem making changes to fit in with their surroundings. (I am not evolutionary adaptation, which would take many more generations).

The water itself around boston seems pretty clear, at points we could see shells on the bottom. I believe the Charles River has a B EPA rating, which has improved from its D rating several decades earlier.

There was a cormorant eating a small fish. It is much more streamlined to a duck or seagull, better designed for diving underwater. I’m familiar with loons, and they look like no-nonsense diving loons. Rumor has it that they almost went extinct in the 20’s because the ladies of the town used cormorant feathers for their hats, until the Massachusetts Audubon stepped in.

We also saw some moon jellyfish. As a side note, I believe they are appropriate to Boston because the shape of their reproductive organs (in 3 and 4 gonad bearing jellyfish) seem to mimic a clover (the sign of the Celtics, as well as the large Irish population around Boston).

Our tour of the harbor in the ferry showed me that the jellyfish are quite prolific, and the islands in Boston harbor and the bay are teeming with life, as their shores seemed to have rocks coated with algae of different types, and with algae, comes species that eat algae and so forth, so that particular ecosystem will be fun to explore.

Near the floating office, we saw several types of seaweeds and algae which I believe are indicative of what we will see tomorrow—small fronded seaweeds of several colors, large kelp weeds, with growths on them, as well as several smaller orange sea plant life of which I will attempt to discover the name.

Lastly, we saw some little barnacles on rocks. I really think that those are pretty interesting, as they can survive in the sunlight and underwater, a zone that changes essentially daily. We will see what tomorrow brings with the inter-tidal zone and other changing condition dwellers.

Friday, July 11, 2014

From Bathtubs to Hurricanes

This is Erik, I'm from around here, and I go to Emerson college. I'm also working on some riverboats for the spring/summer/fall seasons, but I work at an vocational training non-profit during the fall and winter.

My observation was that the sink drained in a counter-clockwise pattern. I tested this at home a few times, and i one sink it seemed to drain counter-clockwise while the other drained clockwise. The sink that drained clockwise, however, ended up having a slight curve to it, which I believe affected the flow of water. Also, in retrospect, the way in which I unplugged the sink (with my hand) might have an effect on the spin of the water.

In theory, the apparent pull of water due to its position on earth is known as the Coriolis effect. A fluid spinning on a rock in space seems to be moving as if spinning counter-clockwise in the northern hemisphere and clockwise in the southern hemisphere. However, this effect is only important to planes and rockets going over massive distances or for hurricanes and other hemisphere-wide events. It is negligible for one's own sink, to which the Coriolis effect is hard to measure or observe.

As an answer to the question, I say: "Yes, there should be an opposite spin (all variables controlled for) in the USA to Australia, but in reality it's hard to remove all variables such as faucet giving the water a spin or the shape of the sink."

Sources:

http://math.ucr.edu/home/baez/physics/General/bathtub.html
http://www.loc.gov/rr/scitech/mysteries/coriolis.html
http://www.ems.psu.edu/~fraser/Bad/BadCoriolis.html

...and some good old staring at a sink.

From Snails to Whales

Welcome to Snails to Whales, Bruce Berman's blog focused on both the little and the big things that make Boston Harbor such an interesting and extraordinary place to live, work and play.

With 50 miles of protected water, four sheltered bays, seven river systems, 34 islands and a nine-foot average tide, Boston Harbor is one of the most diverse urban ecosystems in America.

This blog focuses on the flora and fauna of Boston Harbor and Massachusetts Bay - on the beach, the shore, and the harbor islands, and in the cleaner waters of Boston Harbor and Mass Bay - including this ecosystems most important species - people.

During the summer, it is also a place for my Boston University Students and my colleagues at Save the Harbor / Save the Bay to share their work and experiences.

Where I am coming from...

Love that clean(er) water
Learning about the Boston Harbor Cleanup from the waterway’s eyes, ears, and mouthpiece

By Brian Fitzgerald, BU Bridge

On Georges Island, Bruce Berman talks with his students about the history of the Boston Harbor Cleanup,
which is largely complete. Photo by Vernon Doucette

Bruce Berman, aboard a ferry from Boston’s Long Wharf to Georges Island, poses a question to his students: “How clean is clean enough?”

He’s talking about the water below.

It’s a brilliant July day, with the smell of salt spray in the air. The sky is clear, and so is the ocean. But there was a time when Boston Harbor wasn’t so clean, when the stench of sewage assaulted the nostrils of anyone who went near it.

Berman is the communications director for Save the Harbor/Save the Bay, a public-interest environmental advocacy organization whose mission is to help restore and protect the harbor and Massachusetts Bay. He also teaches a Metropolitan College summer course called Politics, Public Relations, and Public Policy: The Boston Harbor Cleanup.

“The Boston Harbor Cleanup is an amazing success story, and I just love to share it with students,” says Berman, noting that the harbor’s “bad old days” weren’t that long ago. Those were the days when untreated human waste, syringes, condoms, and tampon applicators routinely washed ashore. The antiquated sewage treatment plants on Deer Island and Nut Island were so poorly designed and maintained that they flooded during even mild rainstorms, sending millions of gallons of untreated waste directly into the harbor.

Since then, bacteria counts in the water have decreased by more than two-thirds. Now the harbor teems with plants and animals, and people can legally dig for clams on Carson Beach in South Boston, which was unheard of in the 1980s.

“It was one of the filthiest harbors in America, and now it’s one of the cleanest,” says Berman. “What I’m trying to impress upon students is how this incredible comeback occurred, and how business, advocacy groups, environmentalists, and government can affect the outcome of large projects such as the Boston Harbor Cleanup through negotiation.”

Paradise regained

Berman points to the left as the boat cruises by the cleanup’s centerpiece: the gargantuan white egglike tanks of the Deer Island waste treatment plant, which in 1995 replaced the antiquated facility. The plant treats an average of 350 million gallons of sewage a day.

“And what comes out of the Deer Island treatment plant?” he asks. Berman, his booming baritone competing with the roar of planes taking off from Logan Airport, has a habit of putting students on the spot to see if they’re paying attention.

“The outfall pipe,” say several simultaneously. “Treated water,” chime in a few more.

“That’s right,” he says with a smile. “The plant separates the solid and liquid waste, and it pumps the treated water through the 9.5-mile outfall pipe, which empties into Massachusetts Bay. The resulting sludge is converted to high-grade fertilizer.”

Now Berman returns to his original question: “How clean is clean enough?” There’s no quick and clear answer to this one. “It’s a question that at the end of the day the federal courts had to decide.”

In 1985, a landmark federal court case required that the harbor’s beaches be made swimmable and fishable by 2000. Save the Harbor/Save the Bay was formed the next year to raise public awareness of the $4.5 billion Boston Harbor Cleanup. Sewer ratepayers in the 43 cities and towns financing the project cried foul over the prospect of astronomically rising bills, but because of the determination of environmental advocacy groups such as Berman’s, the cleanup was largely completed on schedule.

Berman says it isn’t finished, however. There are still frequent beach closures because the counts of Enterococcus bacteria exceed the federal and state standard for swimming. The culprit: filthy storm water and sewage, much of it from leaky pipes and illegal hookups emptying into storm sewers, and then into the harbor.

“So is the harbor clean enough,” the Springfield native asks his students, “when you can’t swim in it one out of five days in the summer?”

Work to be done

Berman and his class look out from Georges Island to Gallops Island (left) and the white tanks of the waste treatment plant on Deer Island (right). Photo by Vernon Doucette

This summer the state approved one of the last parts of the cleanup: the construction, by 2011, of a 2.1-mile tunnel near the Dorchester and South Boston shorelines that will hold sewage and storm water during bad weather. It then will be pumped to Deer Island for treatment.

Berman is ecstatic over this development, the result of “tireless negotiation and consensus-building,” he says. “After 2011, we’re looking at beach closings once every five years, when there is a major storm, instead of once every five days.”

But he is not about to let his guard down. To say that he is a man obsessed with the harbor cleanup would be an understatement. Berman is also Save the Harbor/Save the Bay’s “Baywatcher,” and he lives on his 40-foot trawler Verandah. Polluters beware: if you’re discharging oil or sewage into Boston Harbor, the Baywatcher just might be watching.

He is quick to point out that his zealotry is not just on behalf of the harbor’s flora and fauna. “The harbor is for everyone,” he says. “If you’re from a working class or poor family in Boston, and you can’t afford a Cape Cod getaway in the summer, a clean harbor is important. The same is true if you’re a tourist vacationing in Boston or you happen to live in a pricey waterfront condo.”

Accordingly, Berman, who was a political consultant and contributing editor to the Phoenix newspaper before joining Save the Harbor/Save the Bay nearly 10 years ago, also teaches his students about the harbor’s role in the city’s economy. He points out that in the early 1990s, just a few ferries cruised the harbor’s waters. Today, more than 100,000 people visit its islands each summer, discovering their ecological and historic treasures.

“The best way to protect the harbor cleanup,” Berman tells his students, “is to make sure that the public has access to the resources and can see a return on its investment.”

Trevor Kosmolsick (MET’05) has lived in Boston for seven years, but until taking Berman’s course, he had never been to the waterfront. “I’ve also wanted to go camping in the area, but I never knew that you could camp on a few of the islands,” he says. “Bruce Berman is not only a great professor, but the ultimate tour guide.”

He also backs up his words with actions. Sometimes he takes off his shirt and dives in the water to demonstrate to passing boaters that it’s safe to swim. To show people on ferries that fishing is safe, he’s been known to grab one of the bluefish or striped bass he’s caught and (very carefully) plant a wet kiss on it.

“What I want everyone to understand is that investment in the environment really does pay off,” says Berman. “We’re willing to pay for a clean Boston Harbor, so we should enjoy it.”