Tag Archives: Saint Augustine

Switching gears: from kayak to office cubicle

Hanna Garland FSU Coastal & Marine Lab

IGOR chip_ predators_NCE 150As fast as summer approached, it is now over; and for myself, it marks the closing of an intense field season and the beginning of my first year as a graduate student. However, this does not mean that the experiments, laboratory work, and data collection is put on hold. There is still plenty of work to check off the “to do” list that seems to never get any shorter.

My last post introduced the scientific question I was hoping to answer and the reason for studying the relationship between crown conchs and oysters in the Matanzas River as opposed to a different location. While I did not answer the question entirely (that would be far too difficult to accomplish in one summer), I was able to establish a strong, preliminary data set that I can now analyze and re-configure in order to improve upon this research next season.

Similar to methods described in David and Tanya’s posts, the construction of my experiment consisted of (much smaller) trenches dug for cage installation, Z-spar for attaching oyster spat to tiles, bumblebee bee tagging kits for marking appropriately weighed and measured oyster clusters, and various amounts of PVC for expensive data logger equipment housing. The fun meter never stopped ticking this summer in St. Augustine!

As I sit in my cubicle in my new office on campus, my mind cannot help but wander back to my life this summer driven by the time of low tide and whether I would have enough sunlight or energy to kayak out to one more site. To my surprise, the running of my experiment was manageable and actually became a relaxing routine. Data collection was divided into three categories: conch surveys, oyster health, and data logger maintenance. The number of conchs found on the experimental reefs was recorded in order to quantify the varying densities of these predators at each site. The health of the small oysters attached to tiles as well as the tagged larger clusters were assessed based on the number of live and dead. The data logging instruments record the water temperature, salinity and amount of tidal inundation occurring at each of my six experimental oyster reefs every five minutes (so there are a lot of data points to be analyzed here!) and require periodic scrubbing to remove algal and barnacle growth.

While the daily workload may seem light as far as stress levels; the fine print of every step of an experiment can be a tremendous mix of emotions. The hope for not just data but “good” data is something that all scientists share; however, this does not mean that conducting research needs to be filled with anxiety. The outlook that I aimed to have this summer was more based on the feelings of excitement and opportunity rather than high expectations that may or may not be met. To be able to conduct this study in such an ecologically rich environment surrounded by intelligent, supportive, and proactive people and institutions is an accomplishment in itself.

While my data set still requires endless hours of manipulation and analysis, the general outcome of my experiment this summer revealed that there is in fact an oyster health gradient occurring along the Matanzas River, with a change in health occurring around the Matanzas Inlet. In tandem with this increasing oyster mortality moving from my sites north of the inlet to the sites south; are high densities of crown conch populations on the southern reefs, with a decrease in these populations moving towards reefs north of the inlet. Furthermore, environmental factors (water temperature, salinity and tidal inundation data collected by my instruments) will be considered when looking at these patterns.

As a way to better quantify the health and size of the oyster community as well as the density of the resident species (such as crabs, worms, and other amphipods) that inhabit oyster reefs; I surveyed and sampled background reefs at each of my six experimental sites. Long story short, this meant that I randomly selected four new oyster reefs at each site in which I collected environmental data and basic reef characteristics (type of reef, location, dimensions), conducted conch surveys, and collected every living oyster cluster, dead shell, crab, piece of biota, etc. inside of a 0.25 x 0.25 meter quadrat. After washing away the mud, extracting the living organisms and preserving them in ethanol, and weighing, measuring, and recording each live and dead oyster, I have developed a solid database of the oyster reef communities at each of my sites. This will help to better describe the type and abundance of species present at each site.

Oyster reef communities impact us in more ways than providing a tasty appetizer at a restaurant. Not only do they provide a habitat for commercially and ecologically important species, but they also serve to locally improve water quality and prevent erosion. Oyster reefs are complex communities that are in a state of decline along the Florida coast. Unfortunately, unhealthy oysters cause unhealthy or collapsed resident species communities because these organisms depend on oyster reef habitats for food, shelter, and other important aspects of their life cycle. This experiment and preliminary data set provides insight to changing food web dynamics occurring not only along the Matanzas River but in all oyster reef communities.

Apalachicola oysters

Tasty as they are, oysters have a far greater ecological- and economical- value when they're alive in their oyster reefs.

Whether you are enjoying seafood for dinner or driving on a bridge over estuarine environments, keep in mind the important role each individual species plays in a larger community structure. Our actions upstream of these fragile habitats impact everything from microscopic worms to the maturing oyster spat and larger fish populations. As my project evolves, I hope to not only strengthen the scientific community but also raise awareness among people who unknowingly influence an aspect of oyster reef habitats.

 

Summer Chaos and The Tower of Cards

Throughout this week, Dr. David Kimbro has been updating us about the premature dismantling of his lab’s summer experiment in preparation for Hurricane Irene.   Before this turn of events, David’s lab tech, Tanya Rogers, had written this account detailing how much work went into assembling the experiment and all of its (literally) moving parts.

Tanya Rogers FSU Coastal & Marine Lab

Beautiful, isn't it? But working on oyster reefs in Jacksonville hasn't been as nice as its sunrises.

IGOR chip- employment 150

For many labs, the summer field season is a period of intensity and madness: a time for tackling far too many projects and cramming as much research as possible into a preciously short window. It’s a demanding flurry of activity occasionally bordering on chaos. The greatest challenge for technicians like myself is to maintain order in this pandemonium of science, and to carry out as much field work as efficiently as possible without going crazy.

Continue reading

Growing Pains (bigger is definitely not always better)

Dr. David Kimbro FSU Coastal & Marine Lab

California oyster cages

IGOR chip- biogeographic 150The small cages in the photo above were used in an experiment I conducted to study California oysters. The insanely large cages in the photo below are from an experiment designed for our insanely large biogeographic oyster study.

David by cage
While we had planned to install only 18 of these cages along the Atlantic coast of Florida, my crew wound up installing 70 cages over about six weeks. How did we reach such inflation in the number of cages and amount of digging? Well, it mainly stemmed from my ignorance of this area and the St. Johns River, which happens to dump a lot of sediment around oyster reefs. Because this sediment is deep and flocculent, it’s dangerous and almost impossible to work in. In fact, I may design a new study to analyze how oyster reefs manage to keep themselves above this ever-growing mud pit. I digress.

Relative to the abundance of these un-workable oyster reefs, mudflat areas suitable for our new experiment (i.e., near oyster reefs and firm footing) are quite rare. It was our luck (for better or worse, as you will soon read), we stumbled upon a sufficiently and suitable mudflat north of Jacksonville. After three days of hard digging, we managed to create large cages ready to support our experimental treatments. Suspecting that this site seemed too good to be true, we left the cages to fend for themselves for a week. If we returned to discover no problems, then we would proceed with the experiment.

On to St. Augustine- fitting the theme of bigger not always being better, our gargantuan stone crabs burrowed out of cages we had installed there. Even worse, cages without stone crabs were coming out of the ground because they were not dug in deep enough. The stone crab problem represents another example of why I should always run pilot experiments before attempting anything ambitious. Unfortunately, I have not learned this lesson yet. Or, I seem to periodically forget it.

Because I lacked the time to run such a pilot experiment, I ditched the troublesome stone crabs. We then awoke at dawn for the next three days to re-install cages (see the video below) in an over-kill sort of way. For this task, we took digging deep to a whole new level. Nothing was going to get inside or out of these cages without our permission. You can see how much deeper the cage bottoms extended into the ground by looking at the same cage pre- and post- renovation.

Having weathered the St. Augustine mishaps, we confidently headed back to Jacksonville to assess those cages. Upon arrival, I was subjected to a horrific scene: three days of hard labor undone by high flow conditions.

Note to self: mudflats are firm because flow is too high to allow sediment accumulation.

Stubbornly, I decided to force my will upon Mother Nature by digging cages in deeper and reinstalling them at locations behind marshes that would presumably buffer flow. Lacking the time to test this new cage installation, we immediately installed experimental treatments. This leap of faith was necessary in order to stay on schedule with the NC and GA teams.

Okay- cages up, reefs in, bells and whistles turned on. Afterwards, I raced back across the state to help two interns on their projects. Halfway back across the state and late on the Friday of Memorial Day weekend, I managed to blow the old lab truck’s transmission. As if getting a tow truck to Lake City at midnight wasn’t hard enough, getting one that would tow our truck and our kayak trailer was highly unlikely. But, taking pity on us, a wonderfully nice tow-truck driver agreed to load the trailer onto our truck.

 

Meanwhile, team Georgia was also experiencing problems with flow, sedimentation, and misbehaving predators. In short, we were throwing everything at this experiment and making little progress. At this point, ironically, the relative slackers amongst the three teams- the slow-to-start NC team- moved into first place- the horror!

After the passing of one mercifully tranquil week, we headed back to St. Augustine to check on things and collect data on our tile experiment. Interestingly, the experiment was working and we observed some variation in how predators indirectly benefit oysters; the positive effect diminished with latitude.

But then back again to Jacksonville- destroyed cages followed by some extremely colorful language. There should not have been deep pools of water surrounding the cages at dead low tide.

Phil by wrecked cage

Obviously, it was time to cut our losses by not messing around with this site anymore. As a result, we spent the next three days searching all of northern Florida and southern Georgia to find a new ideal study site: suitable to oysters, no quick sand, firm footing and modest flow. After three days of intensive searching, we can confidently claim that such a site does not exist.

After accepting that this experiment could not be conducted in northernmost Florida, we decided to redirect Jacksonville resources to St. Augustine. There we would conduct a similar experiment that focused on a predatory assemblage unique to Florida: stone crab, toadfish, catfish, and crown conchs. So, nine more cages, nine more experimental reefs, and all the associated bells and whistles were established once again. By this time, my crew felt that they could easily serve in the Army Corps of Engineers.

Although things are now going well and we have a much better understanding of how to initiate this type of an experiment, my general ignorance has kept a Florida State University intern in St. Augustine for 7 weeks after agreeing to be there for only two weeks. Ooopsie!

Stay tuned in for a Hanna update on St. Augustine’s crown conchs and a post from Tanya about the summer madness from a technician’s perspective.

Cheers,
David

David’s research is funded by the National Science Foundation.
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Oyster Study: Year Two, Under Way in a Big Way

Rob Diaz de Villegas WFSU-TV

IGOR_chip_predators_NCE_100IGOR chip- biogeographic 150I’ve come to Saint Augustine to get the last of the footage I need to finish the In the Grass, On the Reef documentary, and we’ve come a long way from where we started from on this blog.  One year ago today, this site went live and Randall and David introduced you to their research.  The oyster study had just gotten its grant from NSF and we went out with David as he walked out into Alligator Harbor in search of study sites.  It was a slow, messy day- but a necessary first step. Continue reading

Crown Conchs Galore!

Hanna Garland FSU Coastal & Marine Lab

IGOR chip_ predators_FX 150One of the most fascinating aspects of the field of science is the unpredictable patterns and directions that certain communities can take over a period of time. Whether the change in a habitat occurs due a spontaneous event such as a devastating hurricane or a longer, more gradual event such as climate change; it is important to understand the impacts these changes may have on the resident organisms as well as the future of the community. Studying how organisms respond to each other and their environment are key principles of ecology.

As David mentioned in the previous post, I have recently begun my graduate student work in St. Augustine, where I hope to gain a better understanding of the unique observations we have made while working in the area for the NSF oyster project.
Other than being the nation’s oldest city, St. Augustine is a very dynamic place. From condominiums and restaurants to historic landmarks and beautiful beaches; the area is flooded with snow-birds during this time of year. More notably, St. Augustine has countless state parks, wildlife preserves, and protected habitats; which allow for not only attractions for tourists but areas of research for scientists and most importantly, shelter and nurseries for the resident wildlife. Continue reading