Les Kaufman, New England Aquarium research scholar, is in Brazil to study the unique marine habitats of the Abrolhos Shelf. He and fellow researchers intend to learn more about the marine life of Abrolhos, its links with terrestrial communities, how both are likely to be affected by global climate change and what people can do to protect this special place and oceans worldwide.

After a blessedly uneventful flight to Miami, and then Salvador, and finally Porto Segoro,
we drove the landward side of our study area, the Discovery Coast. This region was discovered by Pedro Alvarez Cabral in 1500, only about two thousand years after it was first discovered by the people who actually lived there.


A shipwrecked anchor monument in Porto Seguro, we are in search of its story.

It is a landscape once carpeted by majestic Atlantic rainforest, replaced today by cattle ranches and eucalyptus plantations.


Eucalyptus plantation on the road from Porto Seguro to Caravelas

It is also a place of vast lowland habitats called restinga, a mix of dunes, mangroves, scrub, forest, wetlands and people expert at putting together a living in this challenging but stunningly beautiful ecological landscape.

The vegetation of the restinga is a strange mix of strange elements — including perhaps the strangest — riverine wetlands dominated by bromeliads, relatives of the pineapple. We are here to study the Abrolhos Shelf, and I look forward to joining my Brazilian colleagues both on land and at sea. Our goal is to learn more about the marine life of Abrolhos, its links with terrestrial communities, how both are likely to be affected by global climate change and what people can do to limit the bad and max out the good in this most unwelcome stepchild of our own explosive growth in numbers, affluence, and technology.


Restinga-wetland ecotone, with marsh bromeliads visible in the foreground, cows way in back

Abrolhos is a large region in the southern region of northern Brazil, well south of the Amazon River mouth. This roughly circular ledge of continental shelf projects out about 120 miles to the east of the scenic beaches of Bahia. It is a magnet for whalewatchers, divers, sport fishermen and vacationers, and home to the lion’s share of the coral reefs in all the south Atlantic ocean. The Brazilian marine team, consisting of scientists from several local universities and Conservation International, has made astonishing discoveries out here, many assisted by a side scan sonar survey conducted a couple of years ago. In this expedition, we are exploring exciting, little-known marine habitats in several ways: with normal SCUBA diving (down to about 120 feet maximum), with deeper technical diving that uses special mixed gasses (to about 250 feet), with a special video camera on a cable (with another, high-definition video camera perched on top of that one), and with an ROV or “remote operated vehicle”, a sort of robot video on a cable that can be steered around under water.


View Larger Map

But habitats are more exciting than the technology.  First, of course, are the newly discovered deep reefs. Among these reefs we discovered vast fields of something called a rhodolith — a ball made out of layer upon layer of red algae that lay down a hard skeleton, something like that of coral. Each is about the size of a softball, and can be anywhere from around 300 to 8000 years old. These algae balls are piled 8000 years deep, and the ones on the top and sides are still alive. The Abrolhos rhodoliths could be one of the world’s largest stores of what we call “blue carbon”, or carbon kept out of the atmosphere, so it does not contribute to global climate change. 

The third new habitat is called a buraca — basically a vertical a hole or shaft going straight down into the shelf. There are lots of these holes, and we want to know more about them, because one of the things we’ve found inside them are big schools of young fish. This was a big deal: These are the young of commercially important species such as snappers, and previously we had only the vaguest idea where all the baby fish were coming from — certainly not the stork. The buracas may also give us greater access to the history of the shelf, in layers, along their exposed walls.  

The expedition is in legs, each a few days long, with teams swapping in and out as the mother ship, the Horizonte Aberto, tends station with the overlap team offshore. 

Last night we had a lovely dinner of endemic drum fish and peas below a powerfully full moon, land-crabbers moving systematically up and down the beach in search of their quarry, one with a horse-drawn cart. The children wheeled and played in lunar luminescence to the lulling sound of lapping wavelets. We talked about fish, and birds, and whales deep into the night.

Les is also working with Conservation International during this expedition. His entries are cross posted on their blog. 

For the past several years, the New England Aquarium has participated in a joint expedition to Fiji, along with the Monterey Bay Aquarium and other conservation-minded groups and individuals. The last expedition took place in October and November 2010. Stay tuned to this blog to follow the team as they dive to collect data on the health of the coral reefs, pick up trash where they find it, check in with the villagers to see how some conservation initiatives are faring and further develop connections with the people that live on these beautiful Pacific islands.

Today's post comes from Nuno Vasco Rodrigues.

On this expedition, I had the opportunity to witness one of the most abundant species of fish on Fijian coral reefs — the Lyretail anthias, Pseudanthias squamipinnis. Spectacular swarms of these beautiful fish can be seen swimming on the top of the reefs and suddenly disappear like magic once a bigger fish appears. In this species, males and females look completely different. In fact, so different that
one might think two different species are being observed. This phenomenon is called sexual
dimorphism.


Lyretail anthias (female);  Namena Marine Reserve, Fiji          
    
 
Lyretail anthias (male); Namena Marine Reserve, Fiji

Sexual dimorphism is one of the most curious aspects in the animal world. It is defined by differences between males and females of the same species in size, coloration, body morphology, or behavior.

This is often observed in several groups of well known animals such as birds, insects, mammals, but not so widely in the fishes. The reasons underlying this strategy can be numerous, some examples are: differences in size believed to be, for larger females, to increase fecundity rates; larger males may be able to better able to defend territory; and males with bright coloration may attract predators first, thereby leaving the less bright females available to reproduce. Further studies show females tend to show direct preferences for more elaborate males which provide for better visual recognition of the male in harem group spawning activity.

Differences in behavior are also present in some species of fishes where only males guard the nest (lumpfish) or provide specialized body structures for protecting the young (male seahorse brooding pouch).


Female and male peacocks (Photo: Peter van der Sluijs via Wikimedia Commons)


One of the most obvious and better known examples of sexual dimorphism and that is often used as a
teaching tool is the peacock, Pavo cristatus. In this species of bird, the male ornate plumage is used to attract the female which is smaller and has less ornate and duller plumage. Another good example of sexual dimorphism, but in the “waterworld”, is the guppy fish, Poecilia reticulata, with females reaching almost twice maximum size than males. This group of fish is also a good example for differences in coloration, often males are more colorful and possess more ornamented fins males than females.

In the ocean, many species of fish present this strategy. One of this species is relatively common in my backyard, Berlengas Natural Reserve, in Peniche, Portugal. It is the Mediterranean rainbow wrasse, Coris julis.


Mediterranean rainbow wrasse (male); Berlengas Natural Reserve, Portugal         


Mediterranean rainbow wrasse (female); Berlangas Natural Reserve, Portugal

Both the Mediterranean rainbow wrasse as the Lyretail anthias are, as previously referred, quite abundant in the respective locations and that is certainly a sign of the success of the sexual dimorphism strategy.

— Nuno Vasco Rodrigues

Nuno has been a member of the Aquarium family since he was an intern with the Giant Ocean Tank Aquarists in 2006. He has since maintained strong connections with the institution, and is now the Science Officer and manages Western Portugal Collections for Flying Sharks, Inc., a specimen collection and shipping company for public aquaria based in Horta, Azores, Portugal.

For the past several years, the New England Aquarium has participated in a joint expedition to Fiji, along with the Monterey Bay Aquarium and other conservation-minded groups and individuals. The last expedition took place in October and November 2010. Stay tuned to this blog to follow the team as they dive to collect data on the health of the coral reefs, pick up trash where they find it, check in with the villagers to see how some conservation initiatives are faring and further develop connections with the people that live on these beautiful Pacific islands.

Dr. Stacy Jupiter brings us today's blog from UndeNAI’Aable II dive site, Ra Province, Fiji Islands. The photos are from regular blog contributor Keith Ellenbogen.

Calling all groovemeisters and hipsters. Turn on ‘Saturday Night Fever’ and get your strut on. Grab your funky shades and comb your ‘fros, it’s time to go disco diving again! Fortunately between Keith and I, we have both the funky shades and the ‘fros. I’m sporting a yellow lens over my mask, and as for Keith, his hair speaks for itself. (Follow this link and scroll down to get a good look at that head of hair.)

As we climb into the NAI’A skiff, a harvest moon rising in the night sky looks electric orange through my tinted lenses. I’m excited. It’s been over eight months since I’ve been immersed in a glowing reefscape. I wonder if this time I can contain my shrieks of delight. Who needs LSD when you are “Light Sensory Dumfounded”?



When excited by blue light, proteins in the tissues of algae, corals, anemones and even some fish, shrimp and worms glow in a full array of psychedelic colors like a dance club under intense black lights. Because Keith can’t see the glowing spectacle, my task is to locate for his camerawork the hippest of reef creatures, who have outfitted themselves in a range of fluorescent greens, oranges, reds, blues and purples for the occasion. I’m good at my job.



I quickly spot a disco lizardfish, followed by a groovy goby whose fluorescent orange backbone is illuminated through its diaphanous body. Knowing Keith’s penchant for patterns, I search out coral colonies of Leptoria, Diploastrea and Lobophyllia which I know to have intense glowing bands or lines alternating with deep shadow.



Scientists are not entirely clear on why the reef organisms glow, either during night or day. Some argue that they may have fluorescent pigments that act as "sunscreen", protecting corals or the algae (called "zooxanthellae") in their tissues from the sun's harmful rays. However, this is still much debated. Others have suggested that the pigments may help the zooxanthellae convert light energy to food in darker environments.

Regardless of the reason, I am thoroughly enjoying my reef ‘trip’, despite the ripping current sending us in all directions across the hillocky terrain. Far too soon, I realize that I have nearly depleted my tank and we have reached the 60 minute maximum bottom time. I give Keith the “thumb’s up” signal, in this case both as a signal to ascend and because the freaky colors have given me an ear-to-ear grin.

As I hop back on the transom of the NAI’A, I do a little boogie in my booties. Oh yeah, I love the night dives.

-Stacy Jupiter Ph.D

Note: These photographs were taken using fluoresence photography. The images and the colors were not manipulated or edited in Photoshop. Check out even more remarkable fluorescent underwater photographs here! Stacy is a Massachusetts native, former New England Aquarium Fishes Dept volunteer, a Peace Corps volunteer in Gabon, and now Wildlife Conservation Society's Director of Fiji Program based in Suva.

For the past several years, the New England Aquarium has participated in a joint expedition to Fiji, along with the Monterey Bay Aquarium and other conservation-minded groups and individuals. The last expedition took place in October and November 2010. Stay tuned to this blog to follow the team as they dive to collect data on the health of the coral reefs, pick up trash where they find it, check in with the villagers to see how some conservation initiatives are faring and further develop connections with the people that live on these beautiful Pacific islands. 

Today's post comes from retired Monterey Bay Aquarium Senior Marine Biologist and lifelong educator Steve Webster.

Divers soon recognize that below a depth of 15 or 20 feet everything appears various shades of blue. To return warm colors to a photographic image or video clip, divers have to carry underwater photo strobes or video lights. Using lights returns the oranges, yellows and reds that would otherwise be missing from the image.


A coral reef crest at the North Save-a-Tack dive site in the Namena Marine Reserve at a depth of 40 feet.


A Fiji reef photographed with light strobes

This raises an interesting philosophical question. What is the true color of a red fish at a depth of 30 feet? Without the lights it will look dull brown or even black to the naked eye. While with the lights it maybe fire engine red or cherry red. In this post we present some images of animals on Fijian coral reefs with the natural light photograph side by side with the photo strobe photograph. Take your pick; are these animals really red or not?


Pink anemonefish Amphiprion periderion in Heteractis magnifica anemone tentacles, pictured at 30 feet deep without strobe


 With light strobes

So why do these animals bother to produce red pigment if they don’t look red at depth? One possibility is that since red absorbs blue and green light (remember your high school physics?) a red animal will be a dull brown or even black in the dim light of the evening or morning just before sunset or sunrise. This could be important camouflage for prey species, or disguise for the predators (like a red grouper). Many of the predators on the reef make their living during these times of dim light. Looking brown or black instead of red allows them to ambush a smaller fish or octopus without being seen.

The same principle holds for deep sea fishes, squids, shrimps, etc. where the only light is bioluminescence – light in the blue-green spectrum produced by the animals themselves.

Phyllidia varicosa nudibranch (which mimics the highly toxic juvenile Graeffe's sea cucumber, another interesting story of deception like this one) seen at a depth of 60 feet

The same nudibranch Phyllidia varicosa seen now with camera's strobe lighting

So, all these colorful underwater photographs – are they really an accurate representation of the ocean world? Or are they just an artifact of the photographer’s lights?

-Doc Webster

For the past several years, the New England Aquarium has participated in a joint expedition to Fiji, along with the Monterey Bay Aquarium and other conservation-minded groups and individuals. The last expedition took place in October and November 2010. Stay tuned to this blog to follow the team as they dive to collect data on the health of the coral reefs, pick up trash where they find it, check in with the villagers to see how some conservation initiatives are faring and further develop connections with the people that live on these beautiful Pacific islands. 

Today's post comes to us from Bailey.

Today’s dusk dive on the UndeNAI’Aable site really took me back. Maneuvering at the edge of a series of small caves at 60 feet, Erwin Filius (Kiwi Dive Master and animal spotter extraordinaire) shone his light in on a magnificent fish that took me back nearly 30 years. It was none other than a Comet, Calloplesiops altivelis, one of my favorite fish from the entirety of my career.


Comet seen in Fiji

As a rookie aquarist back in the early 80s, I was often assigned the duty of running errands to Boston Pet in Cambridge, a fish hobbyist store (long since gone) that supplied the Aquarium with a number of essentials, like: air line, exhibit coral substrate and some types of fish foods. In the rear of the store were rows and rows of fish tanks on shelves with what seemed like every species of reef fish known to man. While doing one of those errands I strolled through the tank rows and saw a fish that made me stop in my tracks—it was a Comet. I knew immediately that it was my mission, my duty, to put that animal on display in the Coloration Exhibit (1975 – 1988). 

It is a shy secretive fish that doesn’t like bright light, is somewhat inclined to solitude, wants a chunk of real estate resembling a cave to call its own and is finicky about foods. The animal somehow did settle in (go figure, because I didn’t offer much in the way of talent in those days), and eventually became quite bold—gliding around the exhibit, readily accepted what was offered for food and was a real favorite with visitors. I felt quite pleased, and funneled that outcome into tackling more difficult species. 

When Erwin had the animal in the torch’s light, all those memories and images flooded my mental cinema. It was a moment of pure bliss.

-Bailey

For the past several years, the New England Aquarium has participated in a joint expedition to Fiji, along with the Monterey Bay Aquarium and other conservation-minded groups and individuals. The last expedition took place in October and November 2010. Stay tuned to this blog to follow the team as they dive to collect data on the health of the coral reefs, pick up trash where they find it, check in with the villagers to see how some conservation initiatives are faring and further develop connections with the people that live on these beautiful Pacific islands. 

Guest blogging today is Mark Rosenstein, who also took the fantastic photos below.

If you know anyone who is a bird watcher, or have seen the recent movie The Big Year, you know that some birders keep a life list, a listing of every species of bird they have ever seen. As a self-proclaimed "fish geek," I keep a life list of fishes I have seen. For the Indo-Pacific Ocean, that list had 719 species before this trip. While I don't claim that I can recognize and name every one of these fishes when I see them again, for more than half of them I can. And I at least recognize when I'm seeing something new. 


Something new: Clearfin lizardfish

This is my sixth time in Fiji on this itinerary, yet I continue to see new things. Whenever I see something unfamiliar on a dive, it catches my interest. I try to make mental note of what I've seen, and take a picture if I can. Besides pictures that (I hope) will turn out beautiful and people will want to see, I take "documentation shots" of fish to prove I saw something or to aid in identifying them later.

Adding this curious wormfish to the life long list

Bailey is aware of this predilection and will sometimes help point out unusual fish during a dive.  Occasionally, reviewing photos and notes after the dive, we decide it wasn't what we thought it was during the dive. Or my memory is faulty, and I had seen before what I thought was new. But surprisingly often, a "What the heck is that?" during the dive turns into 15 minutes research in the many reference books on the boat, and a life fish for me. Occasionally, it will be a fish that the reference books say isn't in Fiji. If there's no photo, I'll then doubt what I saw. But occasionally the photo proves that a fish was there that the experts don't expect us to find.


 Wass' jawfish

My first new fish for the trip was Wass's jawfish, Opistognathus wassi.  Several of us saw this fish on Day One’s checkout dive, though only the top of its head was showing. The photo wasn't good enough to be certain of the identification, but this is one of two species of jawfish (Opisthognathus parvus Smith-Vaniz is an obscure record) expected in Fiji, and the photo is a likely match for Wass’s.  Too bad none of them showed more of themselves so that we could be certain. Another new fish for the trip was pearly dartfish, Ptereleotris microlepis. A small unmarked fish that hovers over the sand plain, it's easy to overlook. Especially since several other dartfishes have spots or other markings making them more noticeable. Both Bailey and I noticed them, and a photo helped clench the ID after the dive.

In all, I had ten lifers on the trip. One was spectacular: a great hammerhead shark, Sphyrna mokarran cruised past us off the wall at Wakaya--unfortunately too far away for a photo. Others, like the threeband demoiselle, Chrysiptera tricincta, took seeing them on multiple dives and studying the reference books and videos before deciding that's what we saw. I will be back to Fiji, and I'm sure there are more fish waiting that I still haven't seen.

-Mark Rosenstein

Today's post comes to us from Mark Rosenstein.

Dartfishes (Ptereleotridae) are a family that includes some attractive fishes. Fire dartfish, Nemateleotris magnifica, are common on sandy bottoms near reefs throughout the Indian and Pacific oceans. These fish are also seen in hobby aquariums. A closely related fish, the decorated dartfish, Nemateleotris decora, is similar except for the striking purple color. However, it is found much deeper, typically below 90 feet so is not seen very often. A third member of this genus, Helfrich's dartfish, Nemateleotris helfrichi, has a different color pattern and is found even deeper and is quite rare.


Fire dartfish (Photo: Mark Rosenstein)


The fire and decorated dartfishes are seen on every Fiji dive itinerary. I have wanted for some time to see Helfrich's dartfish. On two previous trips to Fiji, I have gone down to 130 feet at White Wall in Wakaya looking for them, as others have reported seeing them there. On our last trip, Steve Bailey
and I both went down to that depth. While suffering a bit from nitrogen narcosis because of the depth, we thought we were seeing our target fish, and I snapped a few pictures. However, on reviewing the pictures later on the boat, we discovered that what we had found wasn't Helfrich's, but juvenile decorateds instead.


Decorated dartfish (Photo: Mark Rosenstein)

On this trip we decided to make a third attempt. The divemaster reported that recent trips have seen just one individual at only 100 feet of depth, in a sandy patch that should be easy to find. We made a beeline for this area at the start of our dive on White Wall at Wakaya Island. Scanning the sands, we saw both fire and decorated dartfishes. Then Joe, one of the dive guides, waved us over. There was the Helfrich's dartfish, with a lavender body and yellow head stripe. I made sure that Bailey got a view of the fish as I inched closer and closer trying to get a good photo. After snapping 5 or 6 pictures, I got too close and the fish did disappear into its hole. But we got our sighting.


The elusive Helfrich's dartfish (Photo: Mark Rosenstein)

Review back on the boat confirmed that this was what we were looking for and I managed to nail one of the photos. Three attempts really wasn't that much to find a seldom-seen fish.  If only every species we wanted to see could be found that easily.

Mark has had luck finding other rare fish on his life list. Just check out this post from a previous expedition to Fiji! The decorated dartfish also makes an appearance.

For the past several years, the New England Aquarium has participated in a joint expedition to Fiji, along with the Monterey Bay Aquarium and other conservation-minded groups and individuals. The last expedition took place in October and November 2010. Stay tuned to this blog to follow the team as they dive to collect data on the health of the coral reefs, pick up trash where they find it, check in with the villagers to see how some conservation initiatives are faring and further develop connections with the people that live on these beautiful Pacific islands.

Today's post and pictures come from Stacy Jupiter, Ph.D.

Ratu Apenisa Vuki, the high chief of Kubulau District, leaned over to me and whispered over his guitar head, “Your song next.”



 Ratu Apenisa Vuki, the high chief of Kubulau District

I could have predicted this. Ever since November 2009, when Cyclone Mick smashed through Fiji and Ratu Vuki and I spent the day singing along to hits from the 60s and 70s in his house to escape the rain, he has labeled the Eagles’ “Hotel California” my song. I am duly expected to perform it each time I come home to Kiobo village, regardless of the company present.

Grey reef shark Carcharhinus amblyrhynchus, North Save-A-Tack, Namena Marine Reserve, Fiji Islands


My company this time was the people of Kiobo, the NAI’A crew and passengers, and some of my staff from the Wildlife Conservation Society’s (WCS) Fiji Country Program. While I have been enjoying the grey reef side show at North Save-a-Tack for the past few days, my diligent staff have been conducting a roadshow through each of the 10 villages of Kubulau District to inform all of the men, women and children of the recent changes to Kubulau’s marine protected area (MPA) network.

Since 2005, WCS has worked with the communities of Kubulau to set up an MPA network that was one of the first in Fiji to locally achieve the Government goal to effectively protect 30 percent of coastal and marine waters. The MPA network includes the Namena Marine Reserve, which is the largest MPA in the country and boasts some of the finest dive sites in Fiji, including Tetons, Mushrooms, and North Save-a-Tack, which we at WCS often refer to as “Grand Central” given the vast number of intersecting schools of fish.



Kubulau District Marine Protected Area Map showing recent MPA expansion (Credit: Rebecca Weeks)

By 2010, we realized that while some of the MPAs, such as Namena, were doing their fare share to protect fisheries resources and biodiversity, others were not working nearly as well. This was largely due to poaching from residents of neighboring districts, as well as lack of awareness of local residents of the exact boundaries of their MPAs. We began having talks with the local managers, representatives from each village who form the Kubulau Resource Management Committee (KRMC), about their willingness to make some changes to the network. As the KRMC were receptive to the idea, we thought it might be wise to also try to provide some new information about which areas of the reefs in Kubulau might be more resistant to the impacts of climate change and which areas potentially could recover more quickly if they do become damaged.

 Longnose hawkfish Paracirrhites typus, Mushrooms, Namena Marine Reserve, Fiji


These days, climate change is a big concern for coral reef managers. When sea temperatures remain elevated over average summer value for prolonged periods, the corals can become stressed, which can lead to mass coral bleaching. Bleaching occurs when corals eject the algae that live within their tissues. Normally, the corals and algae enjoy a win-win situation. Corals gain food produced from the algae that photosynthesize using the sun’s energy like plants, and the algae meanwhile are protected from other creatures that might gobble them up. But in times of stress, the partnership breaks down and the corals begin to appear white as the algae that provide much of their colorful hues evacuate. Globally, mass bleaching has been occurring more and more frequently over the past three decades. Fortunately, Fiji’s reefs have not been hit by a large event since 2002, and now we are working with the communities to try to minimize any future event.

 Kiobo Village child greets visitors


How are we doing that? Well, some corals are more naturally tolerant of heat stress. Thus, we have been looking for areas of reef with high cover of corals such as Porites (the big boulder corals) that might withstand this type of disturbance and still provide reef structure for the fish and other organisms that communities depend on for food. We also look for areas that may be less likely to get as hot due to flushing from strong currents or shading from steep topography. Some disturbance may be unavoidable though. In these cases, there are some factors that determine whether a reef will quickly recover, such as the number and type of herbivorous fish (those that eat algae off the reef), which provides space for new corals to settle. Banning fishing from MPAs will allow herbivorous fish to recover, and these areas may have better odds of returning to good health after a major bleaching event.

 Learning by imitating Dad on the ‘coconut fan air guitar’

In July 2011, WCS presented back to the KRMC and other Kubulau community members maps indicating which reefs in their districts would be most likely to resist climate disturbance and which would be most likely to recover if a bleaching event occurred. As a result of this process, the community members consulted among themselves and decided to add five new MPAs to the network. In addition, three villages significantly increased the size of their existing MPAs, and 500 m buffer zones were added to the three largest MPAs, including Namena.  The revised MPA network design was endorsed by the Kubulau high council of chiefs just recently in January 2012. An additional 35 km2 has been placed under management, increasing the total area of the MPA network to 120 km2, which is equivalent to 44% of Kubulau District’s traditional fishing ground.

I congratulated Ratu Vuki once again for the good work that he has overseen for his people in Kubulau.

He just nodded, strummed his cords, and tapped his guitar twice for me to begin:

“On a dark desert highway . . . . “

-Dr. Stacy Jupiter

For the past several years, the New England Aquarium has participated in a joint expedition to Fiji, along with the Monterey Bay Aquarium and other conservation-minded groups and individuals. The last expedition took place in October and November 2010. Stay tuned to this blog to follow the team as they dive to collect data on the health of the coral reefs, pick up trash where they find it, check in with the villagers to see how some conservation initiatives are faring and further develop connections with the people that live on these beautiful Pacific islands.

Today's post comes from Nuno Vasco Rodrigues.

With several hundred dives and more than 10 years working with fish, I came to a point where I knew basically all the scientific names of the species occurring in diveable depths in Portuguese continental waters, Azores and Madeira.

My first dive in Fiji was a lesson in humbleness and it made me realize how much I don’t know! The second dive made this thought even more realistic and from there on, I’ve realized that I would probably need three to four lifetimes with daily diving and book reading to start knowing a litlle bit of the South Pacific fish communities. On the fifth day of the expedition, I'm still trying to identify some of the animals I see during each dive, but, instead of feeling that I’m doing it as an obligation for my scientific background, I do it for fun and I mostly try to enjoy the dives and to contemplate the riot of colors and shapes when I’m underwater.

Valencienna strigata, bluestreak goby, taken at Mushrooms, Namena Marine Reserve

One of the most curious fish behaviors I’ve seen in Fiji, and one that I was not very familiar with, is the burrowing behavior which is common to many species in this location. Quite often, these species share their burrow with a shrimp and typically, there’s a shrimp species for each fish species. One of these fish species is the bluestreak goby, Valenciennea strigata; I took this picture in the Namena Marine Reserve. So, if you ever happen to  see this behavior in a fish, look for its burrow partner.

-Nuno Vasco Rodrigues

Nuno is a member of the NEAq family, having been an intern with the Fishes Department’s GOT Aquarists for six months in 2006. He has since maintained strong connections with the institution, and is now the Science Officer and manages Western Portugal Collections for Flying Sharks, Inc., a specimen collection and shipping company for public aquaria based in Horta, Azores, Portugal.

For the past several years, the New England Aquarium has participated in a joint expedition to Fiji, along with the Monterey Bay Aquarium and other conservation-minded groups and individuals. The last expedition took place in October and November 2010. Stay tuned to this blog to follow the team as they dive to collect data on the health of the coral reefs, pick up trash where they find it, check in with the villagers to see how some conservation initiatives are faring and further develop connections with the people that live on these beautiful Pacific islands. 

Today's post comes from Steve Bailey, the Aquarium's Curator of Fishes.
 
Imagine it being necessary to assume the identity of someone else to avoid being eaten. Some organisms’ life strategy is based on this premise.




Start with Canthigaster valentine, the black-saddled toby, a species of puffer fish, which is not a good menu choice to prospective predators. Puffer fish possess some very disagreeable tasting organs; in fact taste may be the least of it, toxic enough in some cases to kill the consumer of their flesh. Their flamboyant colored and patterned cloak seems to be a direct message of ‘look at me, take careful note of this pattern of colors and shapes, and don’t even think about eating me.’ 



The mimic filefish Paraluteres prionurus takes on a striking resemblance to the black saddle toby to avoid being a meal for a myriad of hungry roving reef fish eaters. Having none of the toxic internal body bits that would discourage a predator from contemplating it as an entree, this species has utilized deception as the solution to the problem.

Yesterday’s first dive revealed numerous mimic filefish on the seafans festooning the shear walls of Mushrooms dive site in the Namena Marine Reserve. There’s a great deal of pleasure pointing out this blatant fib to a dive partner who’s new to the neighborhood and seeing their eyes go wide through their mask as the realization settles in.

It never gets boring under the surface!

-Bailey

For the past several years, the New England Aquarium has participated in a joint expedition to Fiji, along with the Monterey Bay Aquarium and other conservation-minded groups and individuals. The last expedition took place in October and November 2010. Stay tuned to this blog to follow the team as they dive to collect data on the health of the coral reefs, pick up trash where they find it, check in with the villagers to see how some conservation initiatives are faring and further develop connections with the people that live on these beautiful Pacific islands. 

Today's post and pictures come from Christine San Antonio. She has been a volunteer, a summer intern in the Giant Ocean Tank and later a temporary aquarist, and you may also have seen her around the building helping visitors and answering questions. Christine has been a member of the Aquarium family for years!

So introductions first! My name is Christine and I am currently serving as a Peace Corps volunteer right here in Fiji! I’ve managed to be in and out at the New England Aquarium a fair amount over the past few years as a staffer/volunteer, and when Bailey contacted me about meeting up for the Fiji Joint Aquarium Expedition onboard NAI’A, I felt the time was ripe to leave the lap of luxury (that comes with living in a small rural village in the middle of the jungle) and brave the waters of the South Pacific.



Not that I haven’t managed to push into the big blue prior to this little rendezvous, but my past experiences have been with the village and they usually involve two dozen men, women and children carting spears, bins, pots, cooking oils, a radio and a coconut husk that is lit on fire (this would serve as a match for when we managed to dock on a small island and needed to start a fire to boil all the fish we would catch). Did I mention that the boat is made of wood? It’s only about 12 by 3 feet and at least 20 years old, yet we all manage to fit somewhat comfortably. You might think that doing such a thing is dangerous or at least reckless…yes, well, when the boat sank in a torrential downpour with all of the above on board and we were still a mile and a half off from shore no one was concerned. After all, this is Fiji and such an occasion qualifies as a normal day.

Life on the NAI’A is far from the Fijian norm that I have become accustomed to. For one thing the food is amazing! Not that Fijian food isn’t amazing in its own right, but my jaw dropped and remained hanging when I discovered that we would be given french toast with blueberries one morning for breakfast. Blueberries! There’s AC in the sleeping quarters! And hot water! Did I mention that they have a cappuccino machine?! The crew is fantastic, always solving problems and keeping Bailey on his toes with their clever remarks (often involving some ridiculous behavior they just witnessed him doing such as sticking a wet-vac hose into a toilet in an attempt to rescue an 8 GB memory card before it makes it all the way to the septic tank). The spirit of all on board is full of warmth and humor and I’ve shockingly had very little difficulty in adjusting from the rigors of village life.

As a Peace Corps volunteer, my job is to help the village help themselves. The idea is that I provide education, information and resources so that the local community can formulate their own development plans and have them be sustainable (a.k.a. – they won’t fall to pieces once I leave). Our first project is establishing a marine protected area (MPA) within the village-owned waters. 
Accomplishing this is very simple on paper and very difficult in practice, mostly due to the existence of “Fiji time,” wherein project work is squeezed in around rugby games, kava drinking sessions, spear fishing, church, school, plus any number of activities, or just simply taking a cegu mada (a rest, usually for tea). However, given all this, my MPA committee has been chugging along well and right in the midst of planning and developing our would-be bylaws, I suddenly find myself onboard the NAI’A with a bunch of marine ecology geeks, some incredibly gifted underwater photographers, and Dr. Stacy Jupiter herself. Hello fate!

While onboard, I have been able to share my experiences as a Peace Corps volunteer, what our purpose is, what I’ve been doing, all about the village life and about how closely related our interests in the environment are. In return, I have been privy to village visits where Dr. Jupiter has been working with WCS on marine protected area development, personal visits to the best kept reefs in Fiji (and photos of these to bring back to the village to show what the future might bring for our village MPA), presentations on establishing these protected areas at the village level, lessons in the biology of various marine fauna (eloquently presented by Dr. Steve Webster) and a visit to a fisheries project on Makogai island where they are growing corals and giant clams to transplant onto the reef once mature enough. Oh…and of course there’s all the diving!



Being a part of this voyage has been a fantasy come true. Two incredibly influential and meaningful aspects of my own personal life have been brought together – the world of Boston and the New England Aquarium, the non-profit that I have such love and support for has become intertwined with my life in Fiji with the Peace Corps; the benefits from this collision are hugely significant for my village, our project development and for my own life. Not to mention of course all the fun I’ve had discovering how very much my hair resembles sinularid octocoral; who knew I had built in reef camo!

-Christine San Antonio

For the past several years, the New England Aquarium has participated in a joint expedition to Fiji, along with the Monterey Bay Aquarium and other conservation-minded groups and individuals. The last expedition took place in October and November 2010. Stay tuned to this blog to follow the team as they dive to collect data on the health of the coral reefs, pick up trash where they find it, check in with the villagers to see how some conservation initiatives are faring and further develop connections with the people that live on these beautiful Pacific islands. 

Today's post and pictures come from Mark Rosenstein.

Diving today on Mellow Yellow, the brilliant yellow Chironephthia soft coral for which it is named was mostly limp. When the current is right, the corals inflate to form beautiful brightly colored "bushes."  But no dive here is ever boring. 

 Pulsing clouds of fish above the reef

Near the top of the pinnacle were huge pulsing clouds of fish. While it first seems chaotic, there are patterns here. Closest to the reef are damselfishes: several different species in shades of gray and brown. They never go more than a couple of feet above the protection of the coral. Beyond the damsels are brightly colored purple and orange fishes. These are anthias. The most numerous are scalefin anthias, Pseudanthias squamipinnis.  The females are all orange, and the males mostly magenta/purple. Mixed in with these are smaller numbers of slender anthias, Luzonichthys waitei, who are each orange above and purple below. The slender anthias range 4 to 5 feet above the reef, and the scalefins up to a couple of feet beyond that. And if you look very carefully, some of the slender anthias seem grayer than the others--those are actually fusilier damsels, Lepidozygus tapeinosoma, who mimic the more numerous anthias. Passing above these thousands of fish are groups of several dozen fusiliers, of four different species.

All of these fish are in constant motion. They are moving around in their groups feeding on microscopic bits of plankton. But more dramatically, entire populations move in towards the reef as larger predators such as trevally make passes through these fish looking for a quick lunch. Each time a predator comes through, all of the fish move in the blink of an eye towards the safety of the reef. The cloud of fish then gradually spread out again in the next 10 to 20 seconds. Some of these fish, in their rush to safety, may accidentally end up in the mouth of a patient hunter such as a peacock grouper. This dance is mesmerizing as I watch the food web in action.

Recently hatched black noddy chick

In lieu of a third dive, many of us visited Vatu-I-Ra, or Bird Island, instead. Through the efforts of Birdlife International, this island has been labeled an Important Bird Area because it has the densest nesting area of Black Noddies in the Pacific. A couple of years ago, BI assisted in eradicating rats from the island so that ground nesting birds would return. They have also mounted loudspeakers on the summit of the hill which play Fiji petrel calls each evening, trying to lure this critically endangered bird to come to the island for breeding. The Fiji petrel is currently only known to breed on the island of Gau, where both rats and house cats are present.

Of special interest during this visit was nesting crested terns. These are recently returned ground-nesters. BI had asked us to survey the nests. The terns are very skittish, and in spite of a cautious approach, they all fled when we were still 30 yards away. After some debate, we decided that just one of us (me) would go the rest of the way down the beach to where we could see some of the nests.  While frantic adults swooped at my head, I counted 27 eggs, each larger than a hen's egg, sitting in the sand. There may have been as many as twice that, but I didn't want to get any closer to further disturb the nesting terns while getting a more accurate count.

Leaving the terns, we explored the rest of the island, including climbing the 100 foot hill at the opposite end. Near the summit of this hill is the solar powered device which plays the petrel calls. From here we were also able to estimate that the island has about 250 small trees on it. If each tree has 20 to 25 black noddies in it, then there are 5000 to 6250 noddies on the island. These were by far the most numerous birds on the island. Many nests contained eggs, and a number of newborn chicks were present as well. 

As in past years, we collected trash from the island during our visit. The good news is that we found much less trash than on past visits. But we still found some. And with personnel from BI having visited the island just two weeks ago, this would be a lot of trash if they also carted away much of what they saw.

Marbled shrimp

Only a few of us went out on a night dive after dinner.  We dived the fringing reef around Vatu-i-ra Island. In a leisurely dive, we saw many sleeping fish showing their night colors. There were a few odd creatures. Pleurobranchs are foot-long maroon sea slugs who move slowly over the reef. A few salps, free-swimming jelly-like tunicates, were in the water and attracted to our lights. 

As is usual on night dives, pairs of shiny red dots were scattered around the reef.  These are the eyes of shrimp, whose night-vision adapted eyes reflect flashlights. Most shrimps are mottled patterns of red and white.  But this reef had a number of marbled shrimp, Saran sp., some with spectacular colors and patterns.  In dim light these were not too obvious, but in a flash-lit photograph they are very evident.

-- Mark Rosenstein

A NAI’A tradition is the fourth night kava party. Kava is a drink prepared from a pepper plant (Piper methysticum) root; once pounded into a powder and combined with water, it takes on an appearance right up there with what the penguin aquarists scrub off the penguin colony exhibit’s islands. It would seem to me that it couldn’t taste much better than guano water probably would. Taste aside, everything else is on the up side. [See photos from a kava party during a 2010 village visit in this post.]





Kava is steeped in tradition having been enjoyed for centuries. It is a drink that welcomes visitors, ties families together, is part of the pomp and circumstance associated with honoring someone, and, on the NAI’A, is a notable constituent of the nightly singing on deck for the Fijian crew (not much television watching out here). Simply put: it is mortar for cementing together the daily blocks of Fijian life. After drinking a quart or so, the effect is a slight buzz (and a need to deal with some internal hydrostatic pressure!).



For Joint Aquarium Expedition first-timers, Kava Party’s dressing up in sulus (colorful skirts) and bula shirts (like Aloha shirts in Hawai’i), the big woven coconut mats spread on the deck floor, kava mixed in the traditional hand carved wooden bowl (tanoa) and served in a half coconut (bilo), and then lots of traditional Fijian tunes being sung. All of these elements combine to make an unforgettable introduction to the quaffing of kava.



Mosesi Tuavuni, 12 year veteran of the NAI’A crew, chief divemaster and conversant in all parts of ship operations, plays the pivotal role in the music program onboard. He’s a talented guitarist, singer, master of ceremonies, and ambassador for team NAI’A. He makes Kava Party one of the most memorable events of the expedition, with participants commenting on past trips’ coming-togethers with complete recollection.



When the bilo is passed to you, your single clap signals to all that you are ready to slurp down the half coconut shell’s contents with gusto. Three clipped claps once finished inform all that the bilo has been drained, and that you are part of the ‘kava clan.’  Then, repeat. And repeat again.  And… well, you get the idea.

Then there’s the part about kava dreams, once you finally turn in. Perhaps something about that later.

-Bailey

What if you were a kid and you, along with your buddies, had come up with names for all your favorite hangouts in the neighborhood?



Mushroom’s diverse hard coral head pokes through the water to within feet of the surface

Here on the NAI’A, you can experience that anew. Each day we visit the favorite happening dive sites of divers that came before us, and those divers bestowed names descriptive or colorful: Mushroom, Tetons, GoMo, Cat’s Meow. Some commemorate happy visits by marine dignataria such as Humann Nature, for fish guide author Paul Humann, or Howard’s Diner, named after famed underwater videographer Howard Hall. Maytag connotes a certain energy level/strength of the currents before you even arrive there, at least for American divers.


A 15’ wide giant manta Manta birostris approaches Teton 1’s pinnacle for cleaning by the site’s hardworking cleaner fishes. (And if you like this shot of a manta, check out this post from the 2010 Joint Aquarium Expedition: Mantapalooza!)

In Fiji there is a special group of favorite dive sites. They are particularly healthy, feature spectacular biomass, and it is no accident that they are that way. Surprise! These sites are all part of the Namena Reserve, a highly successful marine protected area (since ’83), and it happens to be where we are right now, for three days of dives! Life is good.

Multiple schools of fusiliers, damsels, anthias and others block out the sun on FantaSea

Some of Namena Reserve dive sites (including FantaSea, South Save-A-Tack, Two Thumbs Up) could easily be described as three ring circuses. Here’s one  argument:

North Save-A-Tack is one half of a historical short-cut for Fijian sailors heading between the islands of Vanua Levu and Ovalau, but it is so much more for divers! Dropping off the skiff straight into 2000 feet of blueness, the current pushes you towards the precipice’s shelf of shallows at 100 feet.  What ensues is beyond imagining: the deep water-shallow water interface is extensively patrolled by sharks, numerous trevally and barracuda schools, clouds of plankton-feeding red tooth triggers, big Malabar groupers lumbering about, dive bombing dog tooth tuna and king mackerel, and that’s just the immediate margin adjacent to the drop-off.


A blackfin barracuda Sphyraena qenie patrols the bottomless blue off North Save-A-Tack’s precipice

Moving ‘inland’ a couple hundred meters, a large coral arch beckons, and is the first landmark on the route to Oz or Kansas (both are pinnacles rising up to within feet of the surface, and part of this extensive site) and is the home to many table corals providing refugia for palette surgeons, the Dory of Finding Nemo fame. Leaving the arch behind, the route leads right through an extensive sandy patch populated by garden eels. Preparing to move on requires a compass heading of 210d so arriving at the destination of Kansas, is ensured. Kansas is a bommie topped by a thriving dense field of wheat, blowing in that previously mentioned ‘wind.’ OK, perhaps it is not wheat after all: Instead it is the soft coral Sinularia polydactyla. which has the color, texture, and flowing form of wheat. So rare to find such an evocative mono-cropped bommie (and there are some excellent theories as to how it came to be)! Kansas offers a myriad of sights, most intriguing of which is the complex layer of life dwelling amongst the soft corals’ bases, far below the waving tops.

 
Pacific trumpetfish Aulostomus chinensis stealthily maneuvering within Kansas’ fields of Singularia soft coral

The delights of such places are not unlike the childhood delights of those neighborhood hangouts.  Night dives in particular always remind me of running around the neighborhood with my childhood friends, flashlights wildly illuminating random this-n-that’s. Perhaps that is the reason I keep returning year after year?! Definitely one, of many.

Reefs under stress, though increasingly common, do not have to become the new normal. It is exemplars like those mentioned above that give us deep insights into healthy reef processes and dependencies. Only then do we have the opportunity for meaningful reef stewardship.

-Bruce Thayer