Mermaid’s Bladder

Walking on a different beach recently, just a few miles south of where I live, I became mesmerized by the Bullwhip Kelp (Nereocystis luetkeana) that had washed ashore. The smoothness and the golden-brown coloration of the floats (pneumatocysts) made them quite photogenic. I am clearly not the first person to be fascinated by the floats of this kelp since the name Nereocytstis is Greek for Mermaid’s Bladder.

As you know by now, once something catches my eye I am driven to dive into the subject and this was no exception. The rapid growth rate of Bullwhip Kelp is astounding enough: morphing from a single spore to 120′ long in one growing season (that’s over 5” a day). But the real story is the interconnection between this kelp, sea urchins, sea stars, and Sea Otters.

Back in March I shared information about the Sea Star Wasting Syndrome (SSWS) that caused a massive die-off of sea stars along our Pacific coast. First noted the summer of 2013, the disease has affected over 19 species of sea stars, severely depleting the population. Turns out we have more to mourn than the loss of sea stars, as entire ecosystems have been negatively impacted.

Ochre Sea Stars (Pisaster ochraceus), control California Mussel (Mytilus californianus) abundance on intertidal rocks which allows for a greater diversity of species on those valuable territories. A bit further offshore in the subtidal zone, Sunflower Sea Stars (Pycnopodia helianthoides) prey predominately on sea urchins. Since 2015 the sea urchin population has exploded, according to one researcher, “…densities have increased from less than one urchin per square meter to anywhere from a dozen to three dozen…”

Sea urchins voraciously devour algae, which includes kelp. Even Bullwhip Kelp (the fastest growing kelp in the world) can not withstand the onslaught of unrestrained masses of sea urchins. Urchin barrens now cover vast sections off the west coast where great kelp forests once thrived.

This is devastating since kelp forests not only minimize wave action but they provide sheltering habitat for a number of species, including Sea Otters. Sea Otters are inextricably linked to these kelp forests as they hunt and sleep amongst the stems and ribbons. The decline of Sea Otter populations is at least partially linked to SSWS.

There is a bright spot in this sad tale, sea star surveys conducted in the past few months have noted a huge increase in juveniles. There is even a high likelihood that these youngest sea stars are immune to SSWS. Hopefully, these nearshore ecosystems are on the road to recovery.

Bubbles from the Sea

Remember the brightly-colored bubble photo I shared back in January? It was right after I moved to the Oregon Coast and though I was smitten with the various hues I didn’t pause to consider their source. The iridescence reminded me of similar ones I noted a dozen years ago on the beach in Carpinteria, California. Those bubbles were the result of natural seepage of petroleum from an offshore oilfield (historically, the Chumash people gathered the oil and used it to seal their boats).

Well, fast forward six months to a talk I recently attended by Stewart T. Schultz. This guy wrote the book on the Oregon Coast, I mean that literally. In 1998 he wrote The Northwest Coast: A Natural History. An Oregon native, Stewart couldn’t find a comprehensive book that described the coastal region he loved, so he wrote one (as a grad student no less).

While explaining nutrient cycling in the near shore zone Stewart described the importance of diatoms. Diatoms may be small (considered microalgae) but they are mighty; producing roughly 20% of the world’s oxygen. Plus, they are a key nutrient source for all manner of sea life. Or as Stewart put it, “A clam is basically reconstituted diatoms.”

But what do diatoms have to do with my bubbles? Everything! The daily cycle of diatoms in the ocean is a delicate dance between buoyancy and gravity. Diatoms photosynthesize which means they need to be within range of sunlight. But diatoms are unicellular and the majority of them cannot move. Diatoms have a unique solution to this problem – mucus!

Diatoms secrete mucilage which helps them float up through the water column toward the surface. During the day, the power of crashing waves can whip up a froth of mucusy diatoms which comes ashore as a foam. Hence my bubbles.

But wait, there’s more. What is mucus known for (besides being kinda gross)? It’s sticky! And diatom mucilage is no different. Throughout the day grains of sand, stirred up by wave action, adhere to the mucilage. As sand accretes throughout the day, it weighs the diatom down and causes it to slowly sink to the bottom. Overnight, the diatom creates more mucilage so that by dawn it is ascending back up to the light for another productive burst of photosynthesis.

Amazing to think about the complex dynamics involved in the creation of those beautiful bubbles!

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Bubbles of Diatoms, Lincoln City, Oregon 2018

Meant to Be Here

Though I tend to have my feet firmly planted in the physical, observable world I contemplate the metaphysical aspects of our existence from time to time. Two recent instances have me wondering more about kismet (aka fate, karma).

In early May I took a tour of Grass Mountain, an old homestead property, that the Sitka Center for Art and Ecology recently purchased. I was eager to take the tour since it would be my introduction to the Sitka Center where I had signed up to take several classes this summer. Mindy led our tour and after a delightful morning of exploring we chatted over a picnic lunch.

A month later I received an email from Mindy. She wanted to know if I’d be interested in leading a nature walk at Grass Mountain for an author who would be teaching a class at Sitka in July. I hesitated momentarily since I am not an expert on the temperate rainforest environment but then I reminded myself that I had plenty of time to prepare. Besides, I have years of experience in leading these kinds of outings. Mindy put me in touch with Nancy so I could design a program that would best complement her writing workshop.

During our conversation I learned that Nancy too had lived in Tucson before moving to Oregon. To help me understand her class focus she sent me an essay she’d published years ago, Surviving: What the Desert Teaches Me. In the first paragraph of the piece, Nancy quoted a docent at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. The cadence sounded familiar to me and I wondered if her docent was by any chance a friend of mine. In the third paragraph my suspicions were confirmed when she mentioned Marilyn by name.

I worked with Marilyn in various capacities over the past nine years on invasive species projects. In fact, I was so inspired by Marilyn’s hard work and dedication that I nominated her for the 2015 Cox Conserves Hero award, which, of course, she won.

I finished reading the piece then I immediately emailed Nancy back about our intertwined histories. I also asked two questions; first, could I attend her workshop and second, could I share her essay with Marilyn. The answer was yes to both!

Marilyn had not read the piece and she was moved to learn that her volunteer work had that much impact on Nancy. I know Marilyn happily does all her good work without accolades but she (like anyone else) can use a reminder about how she is powerful, positive force for good.

The Landscape and Memory workshop wrapped up two weeks ago and I am still basking in the afterglow. Not only was it an invigorating learning experience but it felt fantastic to be back in the field leading a nature walk. Even more gratifying when Nancy told me that my tour had exceeded her expectations.

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Photo courtesy of the Sitka Center for Art and Ecology

The week after Nancy’s workshop I attended a short art class on Sun Printing at Sitka. As I listened to the instructor introduce herself I thought her voice sounded familiar but I didn’t recognize her. Karen mentioned that she just retired from teaching at Pima Community College in Tucson. That opened up more possibilities but nope, still no connection. Then she explained an art project she was working on dealing with invasive species…and everything clicked.

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One of my sun prints

We had corresponded by email and phone about her invasive species project three years ago! Our tentative plan had been that I would guide Karen in the field identifying invasive species while explaining the issues, removal efforts, and restoration projects. In return, she would allow our nonprofit to showcase her art to help raise awareness about the cause. It was a brilliant plan, however we weren’t able to coordinate our timing between both our busy schedules.

What incredible connections! Both of these recent experiences have helped assuage my intermittent concerns about moving from Tucson to the Oregon Coast. They seem like signs that I am meant to be here…