Thank you to the generous and excellent team on the Navimag Ferry, Eden, for kindly and amicably supporting our research with the transport of people and equipment to and from Puerto Montt, Puerto Natales, and Puerto Eden. Without the Navimag, these expeditions would be virtually impossible. We love you and hope you have a restful winter season!
We are nearly ready to go again to return to the Golfo de Tres Montes for round two of the whale mortality studies. This time around we have a new scientific team, charged with revisiting the fiords where the whales lie , both to repeat some of the studies to see how things have changed over the months since the February trip, and to begin some exciting new studies based on what we observed at the close of that expedition. We plan to augment our data and image gathering capability with the use of both time lapse cameras, sound recordings and a quadcopter. Stay tuned! Meantime Saoirse is eagerly awaiting our return, tied in its web of lines attached to two huge anchors and six shorelines. She has happily weathered several storms there over the last few months in this fashion, under the watchful eye of Aliro Vargas Traimonte and family. Our many thanks go to them for keeping her safe, for their enthusiasm for the project and for the many centolla dinners enjoyed by Greg while securing the boat over the rest period! — Greg, Punta Arenas April 25, 2016
Thank you to Pike for personally hand delivering 7 new time lapse cameras, batteries and SD cards from the United States to Chile! Pike literally brought an entire extra duffle bag full of stuff for the May expedition, including two cans of chipotle peppers. Why? Because he’s the man.
Well, there’s a good 15 days left on the Kickstarter! That’s great! Keep up the stoke as this project continues gaining momentum. Thanks for your continued support, and if you haven’t yet – follow us!
This May, Patagonia Projects will return to Golfo do Penas to continue investigations on the Sei whale mass mortality event. During this expedition, we will install time lapse cameras to monitor the decomposition of the whales, and observe how they are recycled into the Patagonian ecosystem.
Check out our brief Kickstarter Campaign Video, and read more about the project: http://kck.st/1PtP3N1
Direct video link:
Wahoo! This Kickstarter was funded in just five days by an incredible flood of support from people all over the globe.
With the extra fundraising, we are now able to make a higher quality short documentary, and are in the midst of developing a small bioacoustics branch! Please continue to share our video, as every dollar is a step forward towards a multi-faceted, interactive, and ongoing project. Thank you for helping to bring awareness to the pristine and abundant life of Golfo de Penas, and highlighting the need for its conservation.
We are excited to have returned safely from a very successful expedition to Golfo de Penas. The final count is in, and Expedition HF27 has reeled in a grand total of 1,051 samples!
After arriving to Puerto Montt, we presented all samples to Chilean authorities for inventory and revision, and now we are able to distribute samples to their respective specialists and laboratories for analysis. We are very excited to see results from analyses for stable isotopes, trace elements, Paralytic Shellfish Poisoning (PSP), phytoplankton abundance and species richness, virology, oceanographic nutrients and gasses, and DNA. The resulting information will not only provide insights into the mass mortality event of the Sei whales, but also their general life histories and, most importantly, the marine and terrestrial environment of Golfo de Penas overall.
Here is the breakdown of sample totals:
CTD CASTS 45
GRAND TOTAL: 1051
While still keeping in mind the unclear seasonality, residence time and patchiness of Harmful Algae Bloom (marea roja) events in Golfo de Penas, it must be noted that we received 19 negative results of Paralytic Shellfish Poisoning (PSP) tests from all around the entire Golfo. 11 of these negative results come from Phytoplankton samples, 6 come from mussels and 2 come from Munida samples. One of these negative resulting Munida samples came from the duodenum (an organ just below the stomach along the digestive tract) of a necropsied whale.
We did receive some ambiguously positive results from our field PSP tests. These three samples come from Phytoplankton near the head of Seno Newman, where the water was a bright iodine-like color, and plankton tows brought up a large quantity of filamentous green algae and thousands of very small amphipod and shrimp-like creatures (sizes where <5mm). However, repeat sampling three days later resulted in a negative test. Laboratory qualitative, quantitative and chemical analysis will provide more detailed insights in the future. For more information, please check back for a more detailed report under Project, Phytoplankton on this blog.
These initial findings, combined with observations of at least 2 large pods of orcas attacking Sei whales (see Keri’s post and Greg’s post), and the appearance of many newly dead Sei whales along beaches in areas where orcas are present and PSP is not, leads us to begin to shift our research focus as we look towards our return to these sites in May. Some immediate questions that arise are (1) Could it be that orcas are responsible for all, or the majority, of the 337 whales’ deaths reported from last year ?(2) How many new whales will we find in May ? (3) What is the scope of the orca-baleen whale interaction in Golfo de Penas and Chilean Patagonia? (4) Is there connectivity between other regions? (5) Did red tide really play a role in this event? How much?
These are just a few questions that we are doing our best to prepare for over the next two months. And in the meantime, we will be working on compiling our findings from this expedition, especially the observed orca and Sei whale behavior, into a succinct report to be widely communicated.
March 3, 2016
Is it Mere Murder?
The other day I was writing some prosaic blog post about how we were, at close of this part of the expedition, just beginning to weld ourselves into a team, the kind with which difficult things go smoothly and the boring chores are attended to without asking. Nature had gifted us with the carcass of a newly-dead baby whale, just as we were preparing to cross back over the treacherous Golfo de Penas. That may seem a little morbid, but that was what we were looking for as it slotted neatly into our search for usable DNA. It was raining softly, but the equipment had been laid out neatly for the job and, based on our past experience everyone had their place in the operation. Mine, as usual, was to act as point-man, running supplies across the gap between the boat and shore and seeing to the security of Saoirse. Nothing had been said, but the idea was that this necropsy alone could be the defining study which would begin to outline the story of the whale cemetery.
Again, nothing has been said, but our studies had been certainly slanted towards the theory that red tide is the villain of the piece here, linking this phenomena to El Niño and therefore global warming in general. This is logically reasonable, since the vast scope of the whale deaths point to a single toxic occurrence in the ecosphere. We could look forward to a nice, succinct solution to the puzzle. Then, Nature threw us a curve ball.
Cut to the present and I am standing in the pilothouse of Saoirse, securely anchored to various rotting tree trunks and preparing the boat for the return of the necropsy team from their sombre occupation some 200m away on the shore. Previously, in the quietly brooding gloom of Caleta Buena we had freed the body of the baby whale from the web of tree branches which fringed the cove at high tide and carefully towed her with the dinghy to a flat, stony beach where we could get a footing to conduct the operation at low tide. It was raining softly, but all had been proceeding smoothly. I had been monitoring the radio as the team had been exchanging the few terse sentences they needed to sharpen knives, organize samples, carry tools. Nothing wrong with the picture.
The first distortion of this placid mindscape was Katie’s voice edging in on the radio, “Do you see whales breaching out there in Puerto Slight?”. I grabbed the binoculars from their holster and focused them on what seemed to be a flurry of whale blows out in the main body of the sound some 2 miles away. “Looks like dolphins jumping or something” I chimed back, “not whales anyway.”
“They’re coming towards us into the bay!”, came the excited rejoinder. I looked again, and sure enough the splashing disturbance in the water was headed right in to the cove. Fast. Suddenly I could see the fins of Orca running fast and hard down the bay, jumping and churning the dark waters into a froth. Mingling in to the growing chaos emerged the much bigger blows and surface signature of a larger baleen whale. The whole thrashing mass was headed straight for the beach at the head of the cove where all of the other beached whales lay in their various states of decay.
It was happening just as the fishermen had described. The Orcas charging, jumping and slapping, delivering pile-driver blows to the body of their hapless prey. Its stricken flight took it closer and closer to the beach in an effort to escape its pernicious persecutors, but the whale was clearly doomed. Around and around the bay the orcas continued harrying the whale, driving their blunt noses into its flanks and slapping at it with their powerful tails until it took one final charge towards the exit of the cove and was lost to view.
The next morning the corpses of two newly dead sei whales lay glistening on the beach at the head of Caleta Buena. The fantastic power of Nature had come in one insane vision, blazed itself in front of us and vanished, leaving our carefully ordered scientific thoughts twisted and bleeding on the beach. So where does this leave us now?
Last year, if someone had suggested that the several hundred whale carcasses strewn across hundreds of square miles of the Patagonian coast could have been the work of a group of marauding orca, I too would have scorned the idea as being as farfetched as some of the other theories such as military sonar, radiation from Fukushima etc. which abounded on the internet at the time. Now, having heard the stories from the fishermen and locals, seen it happen in front of my own eyes, I have to conclude that that this is now not only a possibility, but also a probability. If what happened in Caleta Buena can account for all of the whale deaths in that locale, can we then construct a plausible scenario which includes all of the denizens of the whale cemetery? If we can, and this turns out to be the case, what can this tell us about predatory behaviour in Orcas, in ourselves?
Certainly it changes the game concerning about what information we are now required to collect. First, we must now listen to the stories, ancient and modern, that come from the mouths of the people who live here, then verify them with our own experience. The past experience of the wild is concentrated (imperfectly) in the stories of the people who have lived there.
If a chance meeting with the captain of a fishing boat can tell us the truth about what is happening in the here and now, then surely a parsing through of older stories may illuminate some of the pieces of the puzzle which have faded in time.
We are now in Puerto Eden, preparing Saoirse for the next part of the expedition in May, meantime I hope we can be passing some of these stories from the the source to you.