Giant bony fish being found stranded on New England beaches

            The ocean sunfish earned its moment in the spotlight in 2015 when a viral video surfaced of a foul-mouthed recreational fisherman who observed a specimen along the Massachusetts coastline and excitedly tried to guess what it was as the fish calmly rested at the surface. The largest bony fish in the sea, the pie-shaped creature is certainly an oddity to those who are unfamiliar with it – they bask on their side on the water’s surface and can grow to nearly 11 feet and up to 5,000 pounds by eating almost exclusively jellyfish.

            Like whales, however, they also sometimes become stranded on beaches or in shallow

tidal areas, where they are unable to extricate themselves and die. Almost 350 of them have stranded along the New England coast since 2008, according to Michael Rizzo of the New England Coastal Wildlife Alliance, who studies the species.

            Rizzo presented the results of his analysis of ocean sunfish strandings at the Northeast Natural History Conference in Springfield, Mass., on April 13.

            Also called mola mola – a name derived from the Latin for millstone, a reference to the massive animal’s circular shape – ocean sunfish are found in New England waters each summer and are observed wintering off the coast of the southern U.S.

            “A lot of them wind up stranding in New England every year, starting in August and continuing through early January, but the busiest months are October to December,” Rizzo said. “When they get into shallow areas, they get stuck and can’t get out. Once the tide goes out and they’re in the mud, you can’t move them.”

            A record 81 ocean sunfish were reported stranded in New England in 2017, with an additional 60 stranding in 2018. Staff and volunteers from the alliance attempt to rescue those that are still alive, though few survive. In one case, an ocean sunfish that stranded in a shallow tidal area was towed into open water, only to have it strand again and die a short time later less than a mile away.

            The alliance also collects sighting data of live ocean sunfish to better understand their abundance and activities while in New England.

            Many ocean sunfish are killed or become stranded as a result of fishing gear entanglements and injuries from boat propellers, but the most common cause is cold stunning.

            “That’s a physiological condition an animal can experience due to prolonged exposure to cold water,” Rizzo said. “They become hypothermic and can’t move any more. It’s very similar to what happens to sea turtles.”

            The overwhelming majority of ocean sunfish strandings occur along the coast of Cape Cod Bay, though some have stranded as far north as Portsmouth, N.H. Others have stranded on Nantucket, but none were reported to have stranded along the Rhode Island or Connecticut coast in the last decade.

            “It seems that most of them are going south and get caught up in the fishhook of Cape Cod and they wander around and can’t get out,” Rizzo said. “Once they get around Cape Cod, it seems as if they take a straight shot south and avoid the southern New England coast.”

            Little is known about the population or distribution of ocean sunfish in the area.

            “From what we can tell and from what we have read, the mola population is robust but decreasing, which is why they are listed as vulnerable,” said Carol “Krill” Carson, a marine biologist and president of the alliance. “With many threats to the marine environment, including climate change and marine debris, we are afraid that this species will see continued loss in population numbers.”

Because so little is known about them, the alliance conducts a necropsy (animal autopsy) on as many of the dead ocean sunfish as they can, and samples of numerous tissues are collected for scientists to study. Research is being conducted on their diet and toxicity, as well as on the more than 40 species of parasites that have been found infesting various parts of their body. Efforts are also underway to learn how to determine their age and how best to rescue them from beaches.

            Scientists hope that additional data on ocean sunfish strandings will help to identify why so many are stranding in certain years. Since cold stunning is the primary cause of most strandings, Rizzo and Carson speculate that warming waters due to climate change may be having an effect on the fish by delaying their southbound migration until it’s too late. 

            If that were true, Rizzo said, then the number of sea turtles found stranded should correlate with ocean sunfish strandings, and that isn’t always the case.

            “It was a big year for sea turtle strandings in 2014, for example, but that was a low year for ocean sunfish,” he said. “We’re going to try to do a water temperature analysis to see if that tells us anything.”

This article first appeared on EcoRI.org on April 21, 2019.

Spring's arrival brings eggs of all shapes and sizes

             Not long ago I rediscovered in my basement a century-old collection of bird eggs that were passed along to me by a friend who discovered them when cleaning out his own basement about a decade ago. They were apparently collected by a friend of his grandmother.

Contained in a beautiful wooden case and protected by a thick layer of sawdust, the 32 tiny songbird eggs appear to represent many of the species that will be arriving here in Rhode Island on migration in the next few weeks – thrushes, warblers, sparrows, wrens and more – though I’ve been unable to identify most of them. They range from the classic robin’s-egg blue

to pure white, and many have speckles and smears of brown on a white, tan or gray background. They’re almost too delicate to handle.

            Because it’s the season of the Easter bunny and his delivery of eggs to good boys and girls – or maybe that’s Santa Claus – it got me thinking about the wide variety of wildlife eggs that are certain to be laid and hatched during this season of renewal.

            Birds lay round, oblong or oval eggs of varying sizes and colors, depending on the species. Many bluebirds and phoebes are already sitting on their eggs by now.  Tiny chicks of great horned owls and barred owls have already hatched and are growing in their nests under parental care. But most of the birds that breed in our area have yet to get started.

            That’s not true of most of the egg-laying amphibians in southern New England. Several weeks ago, most wood frogs, spring peepers and spotted salamanders laid their eggs wrapped in a bad-tasting jelly-like coating that protects them from be being eaten by predators before they hatch in local ponds. Green frogs and American toads are due to do the same thing any time now. When the eggs hatch a couple weeks later, the emerging tadpoles spend several months growing into adults before climbing out of the water and spending most of the rest of their lives on land.

            Snakes are an unusual case. About two-thirds of the world’s snakes lay eggs, but the rest give birth to live young. Among the egg-layers in our area are ring-necked snakes, milk snakes and black racers, while two of our most common snakes, the garter snake and northern water snake, bear live young. For most species, egg-laying takes place in June or July, and they hatch a month or two later. But don’t expect to stumble across snake eggs like you might find bird eggs or frog eggs. They’re typically laid in a burrow or under soft soil in inconspicuous places.

            That’s not necessarily true of turtle eggs, however. Most dig nests in the sandy soil adjacent to the ponds where they spend most of their lives, and the disturbed soil is often a give-away to the location of the nest. Raccoons know that, so they dig amid the disturbed soil to find and eat whatever eggs they can unearth. The large size of snapping turtle nests make them especially vulnerable to raccoons, and I know several places where snappers nest every year and where I usually find the remains of their shells after having been predated.

            But somehow, despite all the threats that nature – and humans – put in their way, enough of those eggs tend to survive to hatching, and enough of the hatchlings make it to adulthood to keep the species going. Even those that aren’t known to breed like Easter rabbits.

This article first appeared in The Independent on April 18, 2019.

Sea potato invasion hits Rhode Island shore

            During a class field trip to Mackerel Cove in Jamestown in 2017, University of Rhode Island student Jacob Reilly picked up an unusual brown seaweed that looked like a hollow ball and asked his professor what it was. The answer was a surprise.

Reilly had stumbled upon the first appearance in Rhode Island of what has come to be called sea potatoes (Colpomenia peregrina), an invasive seaweed native to the coast of Korea and Japan that grows on top of other seaweeds.

“It’s not a parasite; it just settles and grows on top of other algae,” said Lindsay Green-Gavrielidis, a marine ecologist and URI postdoctoral researcher who teaches the class. “We don’t know what impact it’s having on native seaweeds, though we hypothesize that it may be in

direct competition for nutrients and light. But nobody has done any research to quantify its impact.”

Green-Gavrielidis has a history with the invader. Sea potatoes had been unintentionally introduced to Europe sometime in the early 1900s, probably in ship ballast, and from there it made its way to Nova Scotia in the 1960s. It took until 2010 for it to be discovered in the Gulf of Maine, when Green-Gavrielidis found it while conducting research for her doctorate at the University of New Hampshire.

In addition to the ball-shaped form it typically takes, the seaweed also forms a crust that grows on rocks that easily goes unnoticed, so Green-Gavrielidis speculated that it may have been “hiding out for a long time like that, and then when the conditions were right the ball form started appearing.”

The appearance of sea potatoes along the Rhode Island coast is significant because it has crossed what Green-Gavrielidis calls a major biogeography boundary – Cape Cod. The waters to the north of Cape Cod are dominated by the Labrador Current from Greenland, which makes for colder, more nutrient-rich waters. South of the Cape is dominated by the warm Gulf Stream.

“What it says about sea potatoes is that it has a really broad tolerance for a variety of conditions, and not many species can do that,” she said. “Most species don’t have the ability to move to such very different places. Species that are successful invaders do. We were hoping it wouldn’t be able to cross into this geographic region because of the different conditions.”

            To determine how common sea potatoes are in Rhode Island waters, Green-Gavrielidis conducted a methodical search for it at 13 sites along the state’s coastline last year and conducted several quantitative surveys to compare its abundance to a similar native species called sea cauliflower.

The research was published last month in the journal BioInvasions Records.

In addition to Mackerel Cove, sea potatoes were also found at East Beach and Ninigret Pond in Charlestown and South Ferry Beach in Narragansett. It was not found any further north in Narragansett Bay than South Ferry Beach, perhaps because the native seaweed it is most commonly associated with, rockweed, is not found in abundance in the upper bay. No sea potatoes were found in Westerly or eastern Connecticut, either, so it has not likely found its way into Long Island Sound yet.

            “The biomass we found in Rhode Island is much lower than what we found in the Gulf of Maine, so maybe it hasn’t been here as long,” said Green-Gavrielidis. “That might also be because the environmental conditions are such that it’s not doing so well here.  We do have some preliminary data that shows that there are herbivores – snails primarily – that eat it, so that’s good.

            “Often you think that when a new species comes on the block, there isn’t something that consumes it,” she added. “But we’ve done studies that show that the common periwinkle will readily and happily pursue it.”

            That’s a good sign, since there is little that can be done to stop it.

            “We need to continue monitoring it to see if its going to increase in abundance,” she said. “We expect it to continue spreading. Whether it moves up into the bay or west to Long Island Sound is unknown. And whether it’s a good thing, a bad thing or neither, only continued research can tell us.”

            Green-Gavrielidis and URI colleague Niels-Viggo Hobbs will be conducting a new research project this summer and fall that involves sampling rockweed habitats – the native seaweed most closely associated with the sea potato invasion – so they will be keeping an eye out for the newly arrived seaweed. Their students are also conducting laboratory studies to determine whether native seaweed-eating marine life will eat it and if it is preferred over native seaweeds.

This article first appeared on EcoRI.org on April 4, 2019.

Do your part for science

            Imagine working with local scientists to monitor bats this summer as the animals emerge from their breeding colonies at dusk to go in search of food. Or counting herring as they climb fish ladders so fisheries managers know how many are likely to spawn in local rivers. Or capturing and banding Canada geese during their three-week flightless stage so scientists can keep track of the state’s non-migratory population.

            These activities, all coordinated by wildlife biologists at the Rhode Island Department of Environmental Management, are among an increasing number of citizen science projects sponsored by state agencies, universities and non-profit groups that are designed to engage the public in collecting data that can be used in scientific studies.

                “For us, the volunteers provide hands-on support in the field and help us collect volumes of observations and data that we wouldn’t be able to compile on our own,” said Jennifer Brooks, DEM’s volunteer program coordinator, who noted that 300 to 400 Rhode Islanders assist with DEM projects each year. “It’s also very rewarding for the volunteers because it provides them with unique opportunities and experiences and a fun way of contributing to environmental science in the community. Everybody walks away learning something from every project.”

              If the DEM opportunities don’t appeal to you, there are plenty of other nearby citizen science projects to join. Here are just a few:

Watershed Watch

            The longest running citizen science project in Rhode Island, Watershed Watch is a water quality monitoring program that uses hundreds of volunteers to track the factors that affect water quality in ponds, lakes, rivers and coastal waters around the state.  The data is used by watershed conservation organizations and state and local officials to make decisions that improve and protect the health of area waters. Sponsored by the University of Rhode Island, the project involves weekly data collection and testing for water quality indicators at a designated water body from May to October. Training sessions are March 21 or 30.

Horseshoe crab monitoring

            The Watch Hill Conservancy leads an effort at Napatree Point in Westerly to count and tag horseshoe crabs at high tide on full moon nights from May through July. The project aims to collect data about population numbers and spawning abundance of the once-common marine creature that has declined in recent decades due to overfishing and collection for use in the biomedical industry. (The crabs’ unusual blue blood has properties that are used to ensure that medical devices, vaccines and intravenous solutions are free of harmful bacteria.) The monitoring takes just a few hours late at night working by moonlight, and it helps provide insight into the natural history of this ecological oddity.

International Coastal Clean-up

            Beach trash is unsightly and can hinder the enjoyment of some of the state’s most heralded natural resources. Some of it, especially materials like plastic that degrade very slowly, can be harmful to marine life. Save The Bay coordinates beach clean-ups throughout the year, but it concentrates its efforts in mid-September when teams of volunteers converge on 80 coastal locations around the state. Volunteers tally the quantity and type of debris collected for inclusion in a global report prepared by scientists at The Ocean Conservancy. The data helps to identify the primary sources of litter, which will aid in focusing prevention efforts.

Frog Watch

            Lou Perrotti, conservation director at Roger Williams Park Zoo, says that amphibians are an important indicator species for healthy environments and a vital part of the food chain. In many parts of the world, frog populations are declining and many species are on the brink of extinction. While that's not the case in Rhode Island, Perrotti coordinates the FrogWatch program to keep an eye on the health of local populations of frogs and toads in neighborhood ponds and swamps.. Volunteers learn to identify frog calls at a training session on March 31 or April 6 and then visit amphibian habitat once a week throughout the spring and summer to listen for calling frogs and toads. Data is collected and shared with a national database on frog populations.

Osprey monitoring

Osprey populations in Rhode Island have been growing steadily for several decades, thanks to the banning of the pesticide DDT, which caused reproductive failure in many fish-eating birds in the 1960s and 70s. When DEM began monitoring osprey nesting in 1977, just eight chicks successfully fledged from nests in the state. Now managed by the Audubon Society of Rhode Island, osprey monitors keep an eye on more than 150 nests that produce about 300 young each year. After a training session on March 3 or 10, volunteers visit a designated nest once each week from March through August to track the breeding success of osprey pairs.

Project Timberdoodle

            The American woodcock is one of the region’s most unusual birds. University of Rhode Island doctoral student Erin Harrington calls it “goofy looking” for its very long beak, short stubby legs, extra-large eyes and plump, camouflaged bodies. Nicknamed timberdoodles, the birds are declining throughout their range in the eastern U.S. Harrington is studying their habitat preferences and is seeking citizen scientists to listen for their mating call and watch for their unusual aerial display. All it takes is a one-hour commitment at dusk on four dates in late April and early May, plus attendance at a training session on April 10 or 11.

This article first appeared in South County Life magazine on March 18.

A fascination for frogs

            Beginning when I was about five years old, I spent as much time as possible exploring the ponds and swamps near my childhood home for frogs and whatever other creatures I could find. On each excursion, my friends and I would do our best to get our hands on every frog, salamander, snake or turtle that showed its face in what today might be called an experiential learning environment.

            That was also the time that I decided to be a writer, and my first written documents were detailed descriptions of the observations I made about the behavior of those same animals. I

still have one of those reports, written exactly 50 years ago, and while almost nothing I wrote was scientifically accurate, it certainly reflects the enthusiasm I had for those species.

            Bullfrogs were my favorite, because they were almost too big for my tiny hands to grasp and because their low, resonant voices were akin to what my mother said was my unusually low voice at the time. Every bullfrog I caught I named Bigelow for their large size, and I showed them off to anyone who would look before releasing them back into the water.

            Pickerel frogs, the best jumpers of the local species, were another favorite, though they were especially difficult to capture. Any slight movement in their direction would set them a-leaping, and they could sometimes outrun me over short distances. At least that’s how I remember it.     

            I’ve always described those years as that of a typical suburban kid, though I’m finding that it may not have been the universal experience I once thought it was. Still, it turned out to be a crucial time in my life for identifying my future interests and career.

            I mention these stories because late March and early April is frog season in Rhode Island, when evening rain showers trigger the movement of large numbers of wood frogs and spring peepers – and green frogs a few weeks later – from their upland wintering habitat to local ponds and vernal pools to breed. They are often joined by spotted salamanders, American toads and other less-common species in a loud orgy of amphibian sex.

            While the animals are single-minded in their objective, they don’t necessarily recognize the danger they face as they transit across roads to reach their breeding pools. It’s not uncommon for hundreds of frogs to be killed by vehicles in one night over less than a mile of roadway in areas where wetlands are nearby. Even observant drivers who are aware of the frog migration have difficulty avoiding the animals leaping toward their headlights.

            That’s why, whenever it rains at night at this time of year, I spend a few hours after dark helping frogs and salamanders across one stretch of road that is a popular migratory route for amphibians in my area. Last year my wife and I safely escorted more than 50 frogs across the road in just one hour of walking a quarter-mile stretch of road.

            You can help them, too. During the next couple rainy nights, take a walk along a back road adjacent to a freshwater pond after about 8 p.m. Shine a flashlight on the road – for your own safety and to locate any frogs on the pavement – and help those animals across the road in the direction they are facing.

And if you happen to be driving at night when it’s raining this month, please go slow and avoid any frogs you see. Call it your good deed for the day.

This article first appeared in the Independent on March 15, 2019.

Right whale births up, but population still facing extinction

            A year after the critically endangered North Atlantic right whale population produced zero calves for the first time on record, the animals have given birth to seven calves so far this winter. But that number is still far too few to convince scientists that the population is rebounding.

            “Without concerted efforts to reduce the effects of human activities, this species is likely to go functionally extinct in about 20 years,” said Scott Krauss, senior science advisor at New England Aquarium, during testimony at a Congressional hearing examining the threats to right whales on March 7.

            The global population of North Atlantic right whales, which currently stands at about 400, was growing steadily in the 1990s and 2000s, including a record year in 2009 when 39 calves were born. But reproduction rates have slowed precipitously since then.

            “Until the average calving rate is over 10, I’m not going to feel confident,” said Robert

North Atlantic right whales (Cynthia Browning/NOAA permit 633-1763)

Kenney, a marine mammal researcher and retired marine scientist at the University of Rhode Island’s Graduate School of Oceanography.

            Kenney said that the most likely explanation for the reduced birth rate is that female right whales are not finding enough to eat, resulting in a longer interval between pregnancies.

            “Female right whales nurse their calves for a year, then they take a year off to recover and build up their fat, and then they get pregnant again,” he said. “In good times, pregnancies are three years apart. But if they’re having difficulty building up their blubber layer, then the resting year stretches out. In 2017, all five of those that gave birth had an average interval of 10 years.”

            The uptick in the birth rate this year is probably an indication of successful feeding in 2016 and 2017, Kenney added.

            “There’s nothing we can do about how many copepods there are in the water and where they are and how the oceanography compacts them into patches that are good for right whales to eat,” he said. “If the climate keeps getting warmer, things are just as likely to get worse as better.”

            The other side of the right whale story is the high mortality rate. According to Kraus, from 2010 to 2014 the rate of right whale deaths or serious injuries due to human activities doubled that of the previous decade. And in 2017 and 2018, 20 right whales are known to have died, mostly as a result of ship strikes and entanglements in fishing gear, reducing the total population by nearly five percent. The actual number of deaths each year is probably far greater than the documented deaths.

            “This type of rapid decline in the population has not been seen since the period of active right whaling prior to 1750,” Kraus said.

            Fifteen years ago, the leading cause of death for right whales was collisions with large ships, but that has improved in recent years thanks to the rerouting of shipping lanes in some areas and the adoption of a reduced-speed regulation for commercial ships along the East Coast.

Today, more right whales die after becoming entangled in fishing gear than from any other cause. Kraus said that at least 83 percent of right whales have entanglement scars, and 59 percent have been entangled more than once.

In November, Kenney published an analysis of right whale mortality since 1990 and found that if there was no fishing gear in the water, the North Atlantic right whale population would be steadily increasing.

Most of the 12 right whale deaths in in 2017 were caused by entanglements in fishing gear from the snow crab fishery in the Gulf of St. Lawrence between Newfoundland and New Brunswick, where the fishermen use large pots and heavy ropes that easily entangle whales. Kenney said that’s an area that few right whales used to visit until food became scarce elsewhere in recent years.

“Last year, the Canadian government took action – they were much more responsive than the American government has ever been – and closed down the fishery as soon as the right whales showed up,” said Kenney.

As a result, no right whale deaths were recorded in the Gulf of St. Lawrence in 2018.

            Kenney and Kraus also noted another other big concern facing the right whale population – much shorter life spans. The whales, which formerly lived more than 70 years, now have a life expectancy of just 30 to 40 years due to human-caused mortality. And females are dying much earlier than males, reducing the number of calves they can produce in their lifetime.

            “It’s unlikely that right whales die of old age anymore,” Kraus said.

            What can be done to reduce the mortality rate? The scientists say the first step is the development of “ropeless” fishing.

            “The number and severity of entanglements is going up, probably due to improvements in rope strength and rope quality,” Kenney said. “Ropes are stronger and lasting longer, which is good for fishermen but not good for whales.

            “We’ve got to figure out some way to fish that doesn’t involve having ropes in the water,” he continued. “That’s one answer, but it’s a really complicated answer because right now it’s illegal. Even if technology was perfected, it’s illegal to set lobster pots in the water without something at the surface to mark its location.”

            If the entanglement issue can be resolved, then the whales may be able to find a way to recover on their own.

            “Right whales have adapted to changing climate for the entire five million years of their existence,” Kenney concluded. “They’ve been through this. They can adapt. They may go through natural periods of really low reproduction like they’re doing now, but if there’s no excess mortality on top of it, they’re more likely to make it through.”

This article first appeared on EcoRI.org on March 13, 2019.

Threats remain to Atlantic's only marine national monument

            The Northeast Canyons and Seamounts Marine National Monument, the only national monument in the Atlantic Ocean, remains controversial more than two years after it was designated by President Barack Obama in September 2016.

Fishermen brought suit to overturn the designation (the suit was dismissed last October, but it is being appealed), President Trump has threatened to use his executive authority to revoke the designation – despite uncertainties as to whether he can legally do so – and the Interior Department has recommended that the Trump Administration re-open the monument to commercial fishing.

            But Peter Auster argued in a lecture at Roger Williams Park Zoo on Feb. 28 that the 4,900-square mile area located about 150 miles off Cape Cod is deserving of protection due in part to

its high species diversity, wide variety of habitats, and numerous creatures that are sensitive to disturbance.

            A senior research scientist at Mystic Aquarium, Auster was a key player in building the scientific case for why the area should be designated a national monument. He has led multiple research projects to explore the area using submersible vessels, remotely-operated vehicles, and autonomous vehicles, all of which have revealed an unusual array of marine life, from “Dr. Seussian species” of fish to dozens of kinds of deep-sea corals.

            “A dive into the canyons and seamounts demonstrates the magic of the ocean,” he said. “There’s a whole garden of organisms that live there.”

            The monument includes a portion of the edge of the continental shelf, where the seafloor drops sharply from a depth of about 600 feet down to 3,000 feet, and where four extinct underwater volcanoes jut upward from the seafloor. The monument got its name from those underwater volcanoes (called seamounts) and a number of canyons carved into the shelf edge by ancient rivers.

            “Those canyons and seamounts create varied ecotones in the deep ocean with wide depth ranges, a range of sediment types, steep gradients, complex topography, and currents that produce upwelling, which creates unique feeding opportunities for animals feeding in the water column,” Auster said.

            Using colorful photographs of rarely seen creatures to illustrate his presentation, Auster called the area a “biodiversity hotspot,” noting that at least 73 species of deep-sea corals live in the area, including 24 that were found there for the first time during a research expedition in

At least 73 species of deep sea corals are found at the monument (NOAA)

2013. Many of those corals serve as hosts to other creatures – crabs, shrimp and starfish, for instance – that are only found on those particular corals.

            Researchers from New England Aquarium have found that the monument’s surface waters serve as feeding grounds for an abundance of whales, sea turtles, sharks and seabirds, as well as fish that migrate from the deep water to the surface every day to feed.

In addition, Maine Audubon recently discovered that the monument area is where many of the region’s Atlantic puffins spend the winter. And researchers from the Northeast Fisheries Science Center in Woods Hole found that significant numbers of the extremely rare True’s beaked whale, one of the deepest diving marine mammals in the world, spends the summer in monument waters.

            Despite these recent discoveries, scientists say there is still a great deal to be learned about the area.

            “We don’t yet know everything we need to know to manage the monument,” Auster said. On his scientific to-do list is an assessment of the biological diversity of the area and how it’s distributed in the monument; an assessment of ecological change over time; a better understanding of species interactions; and an assessment of how the region has recovered from natural and human-caused disturbances.

            While the status of the monument remains in limbo, a number of additional threats may be lurking. So far, commercial fishing has only affected the shallow areas of the monument on the continental shelf, but Auster said there are increasing efforts to fish in the deeper waters as well. In addition, the Trump Administration is advocating for expanded oil and gas exploration in the waters off the East Coast, and the growing sea-bed mining industry may see the seamounts as potentially valuable sites for methane hydrate mining or manganese crust mining.

            While Auster seems somewhat confident that the monument designation will hold up, and he’s already working on making the case for a second marine national monument in the Atlantic – this one at Cashes Ledge in the middle of the Gulf of Maine – he also acknowledges that there are influential political forces at work that could derail the monument designation.

            “Like every monument, there are people who suggest that it isn’t a good thing to conserve examples of our natural heritage for future generations,” Auster said. “The end of this story remains to be written.”

This article first appeared on EcoRI.org on March 13, 2019.