8/31/11

#10: Hurricane Irene


NASA image showing Irene along the east coast.

Since our last post, Hurricane Irene raced up the East Coast leaving a path of destruction in her wake. We prepared for the hurricane by hauling our smaller research boats and moving the Nereid (our primary research vessel, here's a photo) to safe harbor. We stored all our loose furniture in the back yard, removed the VHF antenna from our house and made sure we had a good supply of bad movies and popcorn. Irene spared downeast Maine while other parts of the East Coast and New England suffered extreme damage.


Despite the approaching storm we managed to get a half day on the water on the 27th. Patchy fog limited our day and made working a challenge, as we could often hear right whale exhalations but not see them. We found (with the help of a few whale watching vessels) a small patch of right whales and worked a few hours before heading home and making preparations for Irene.


Working in fog can be a challenge when attempting to get good ID photos.


8/28/11

#9: A Happy Ending for #3760

Hello! My name is Patricia (Tricia) Naessig and this is my second time working with the New England Aquarium here in the Bay of Fundy. For the last nine years, I’ve been the Wildlife Trust/EcoHealth Alliance team leader for the northern Early Warning System (EWS) right whale aerial surveys flown off the coast of Georgia in the North Atlantic right whales’ Southeastern United States calving grounds (SEUS).

Northern EWS Right Whale Aerial Tracklines.

The first time I came to Lubec in 2008, I trained with the Aquarium scientists for a couple weeks to learn more about their data collection techniques and to observe North Atlantic right whales on the feeding grounds. I also had a chance to meet two of the wonderful Calvineers that were also at the Lubec, Maine research house to learn more about the right whales they had been studying for all of 7th grade at the Adams School in Castine, Maine. This season, I’m here for all of August and September and very excited to be working with the research team again.

One of the things I’m most excited about is the chance to see some of the whales that I’ve studied in the southeast here in the northeast after their long migration north. Nine of the 21 right whale calves born this past calving season have already been sighted in the Bay of Fundy this season! Also, there was an especially happy right whale sighting for me on August 13. After photographing a large SAG in the Bay that day, the team on the R/V Nereid spent time photographing other whales scattered around the study area. One of these whales was Catalog #3760. #3760 is a four year old juvenile right whale that I last saw on February 13, 2011. On that day, I was circling over the whale at 1,000 feet in a survey plane off the coast of Jekyll Island, Georgia. I was trying to photograph the whale as it rolled around in a SAG with two other whales. From the viewfinder of the camera, I could see a reddish pink color near the whale’s blowholes. While the plane continued to circle the whales, I examined the images closer on the camera and quickly realized that the whale was entangled. #3760 had pink monofilament netting coming out of the right side of its mouth and looping over its head.


February 13, 2011 image of #3760 with knotted pink monofilament netting crossing over the whale's head. Photo: Georgia Department of Natural Resources, NOAA permit #9 32-1905.

Once it was established that #3760 was entangled, my aerial survey team immediately called the disentanglement team based at the Georgia Department of Natural Resources (GDNR) in Brunswick, Georgia. The disentanglement team quickly pulled together all the gear they needed, jumped in their rigid-hulled inflatable boat (RHIB) and rushed out to where we were circling the whale. For the next 3.5 hours, myself and the rest of the aerial survey team helped to track the whale from the air as the disentanglement team on the water attempted to cut some of the netting on the whale. The very skilled disentanglement team was able to make multiple cuts to the monofilament netting- no easy feat! They had to get their 20 foot RHIB R/V Hurricane close enough to a free swimming large whale so a team member could reach out with a knife at the end of a long pole and cut the netting. Eventually, the plane was getting low on fuel and sunset was approaching, so the plane and the boat had to return to shore. At that point, everyone was hoping that enough cuts had been made to the whale's entanglement so the whale could eventually shed any remaining netting on its own.


Clay George with the GDNR disentanglement team about to make a successful cut to the netting on the left side of #3760’s head. Photo Credit: Georgia Department of Natural Resources, NOAA permit #932-1905.

When I found myself again photographing #3760 on August 13, I was hoping that I wouldn’t see any remaining traces of the pink monofilament netting as I stared through the viewfinder. Luckily, as the Nereid team examined #3760 through camera lenses and binoculars, no netting was visible on the whale. The last remnants of the monofilament netting had come off the whale at some point during its migration north along the east coast. It was a very happy ending to a story that began exactly six months earlier on February 13. Maybe 13 isn’t such an unlucky number after all…


August 13, 2011 image of #3760 gear-free. Photo: Patricia Naessig

Unfortunately ,#3760 was one of five entangled right whales sighted in the SEUS during the 2010-2011 season. Not all of these entangled whales had a happy ending. After a significant disentanglement effort which included sedation (modeled on the first sedation of a right whale in 2009), #3911 (a two year old female) was found floating dead at the end of January. During most calving seasons, one or two entangled right whales are sighted during the SEUS aerial surveys. However, we’ve had five entangled right whales in the SEUS for two out of the last three seasons. Overall, over 80% of the North Atlantic right whales have scarring on their bodies indicating they were entangled at some point in their lives. It’s a frightening trend that the New England Aquarium and everyone in the right whale conservation world are working very hard to counteract.

-Patricia Naessig

8/24/11

#8: Sounds from the Sea

As I mentioned in the previous blog, we've gotten some great acoustic data from the whales we've studied on the days we've been out in the bay. Below is a series of cool sound bytes we've collected over the month.

The first clip is from a separation event between a mother named Viola (Catalog #2029) and her calf. After swimming about 500 yards away from her calf, Viola suddenly began to breach, throwing her body out of the water over and over, performing seven or eight breaches total. Once she began, her straying calf bee-lined right for her, and Viola quit breaching upon its return. We can't be sure what messages, if any, Viola was sending to the calf; we can only postulate about what we saw. However, we can confidently assume the calf could hear it's mother's 60-to-80-ton body smacking back into the water at the end of every breach. We were recording near the calf, and here is one of the breach sounds we picked up on the hydrophones (listen for the splash about half way through the clip):




Another day on the water, we started our morning with the Surface Active Group (SAG) Marianna blogged about in this post. We've known for many years that SAGs are a setting for lots of vocalizations, and below is a series of up-calls (the trademark right whale communication call) we recorded while observing on the periphery of the SAG:




Finally, here is a recording from later on that same day, when we spent a few solid hours with mother #2790 and her calf. While we were with the pair, they spent the majority of their time separated, the mom most likely subsurface feeding in the area while the calf seemed to aimlessly bop around on its own. Throughout the afternoon the calf did a lot of stereotypical "mooing" sounds, so named because the sounds resemble a cow's moo. The sounds can be heard easily above the water's surface and also, as you can hear here, below. We're not sure what the sounds mean, but maybe by the end of this project we'll figure it out. In this clip, if you listen carefully you can first hear a soft slapping sound from when the calf slapped its flipper on the water's surface followed by a couple moos:




It's amazing how time flies--I'll be leaving Lubec in a day or two as our project comes to a close here for this season. I wish the rest of the researchers in the field house the best of luck through the end of September!

-Kelly

8/22/11

#7: The Blasted Potato Gun

Well, we finished our homemade acoustic array and nick-named it the Potato Gun in honor of the usual instruments people make with large quantities of PVC pipe in the backyard. Our "Potato Gun" consisted, in the end, of about 20 feet of PVC pipe sawed in half with 3 evenly-spaced hydrophones nestled into the underside. The goal was to create an array with which, when a whale vocalizes under the water, we can triangulate in on the sound and determine where it came from. (You can find a good description from Northwestern University of earthquake triangulation here; we're using the same idea, but with waves of sound.) This allows us to determine which one of the many whales we're often surrounded by most likely made the noise.

One of our nested hydrophones.

Though our idea, I think, was sound (hardy-har-har), our makeshift array didn't really fly in the water. When we tested the array, dropping it just a few feet below the surface so that we could visually assess how the half-pipe was cruising, we heard a lot of strumming noise from the lines we had attached to the pipe and the weights we had to strap onto the array in order to keep it level under water. Plus, one of the hydrophones ended up sitting right next to the engine, and the engine was so loud as to likely block out any low or distant whale calls. After so much planning and brainstorming, and after using our own hands to make our vision of a perfect array into a reality, it was quite disappointing to find that it didn't work like we had hoped. But, such is science--while these trials can be frustrating, they're also what we love about our jobs. Plus, we already have an array that works well enough for the moment, so we simply continued to record using our original system during our days out on the water.


Testing the potato gun.

Yes, the weather has been less than desirable, only allowing us 4 days on the boat in the past 22, but the days we have ventured into the bay have been phenomenal. The first whales we've found every day have been the right right whales for us: mother/calf pairs. All together, we've collected just under 20 hours of acoustic and behavioral recordings from the pairs, which is a lot of new and exciting data. We've seen multiple events where the various calves have separated from the their mothers, and we have assiduously recorded the behaviors and sounds that mark their returns. With this kind of data, we can determine the environments in which it's most important for mothers and calves to be able to communicate vocally and the behaviors that mark the calves' steps in maturation. And understanding right whales better is one of surest ways to go about protecting them better.

Photographing a pile of right whales during a gorgeous day on the water. As Scott says with a wry smile, "This sure beats working!"

Stay tuned for a blog coming soon where you can hear some examples of the sounds we've recorded with our hydrophones this season!

8/20/11

#6: Waiting for the weather to change

Although we were optimistic about our weather window for the week, our slew of several consecutive beautiful days on the water turned into just one day. Although we did find right whales when we went out, sightings were difficult because of the sea state, and because the whales had moved from the locations we had been seeing them! Who knew?! We'll be blogging with a full update very soon!

The R/V Nereid, looking unhappily fogged in.

Hopeful for a second day on the water for the week and not entirely sure if the forecasts were as terrible as they sounded, we poked our noses out. Sure enough, the fog bank we encountered on land stretched past the Grand Manan channel and into the Bay of Fundy. Thankfully, the R/V Nereid is equipped with excellent GPS and Radar systems which guided us home safely.

Not ideal conditions in the Bay.

While we're waiting for the weather to turn in our favor, we are getting lots of work done in the office. Our data sets from our previous trips out are being processed, and we're busy matching the whales so we know who is in the Bay this year. Keep your fingers crossed for good weather so that we can get back out there!


Looking at whales on computer screens is almost as fun as seeing them in the field!

-Marianna