November 15, 2022 — A new partnership between the Chesapeake Bay Foundation and the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC) was just announced to restore oysters in the bay.
The occasion was marked by adding 200,000 oysters to a reef off the dock at the SERC.
“Bringing world-class restoration and world-class science together is just a match made in heaven,” explains Hilary Falk, President and CEO of the Chesapeake Bay Foundation.
December 28, 2020 — In the coastal waters of the mid-Atlantic, an endangered shark is making a comeback. Led by former Smithsonian postdoc Chuck Bangley, scientists at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC) tagged and tracked nearly two dozen dusky sharks over the course of a year as part of the Smithsonian’s Movement of Life Initiative. They discovered that a protected zone put in place 15 years ago is paying off — but with climate change, it may need some tweaking.
Dusky sharks are what Bangley calls “the archetypal big, gray shark.” Born 3 feet long, as babies, they’re already big enough to prey on some other shark species. But they’re slow-growing. It can take 16 to 29 years for them to mature. If their populations take a hit, recovery can take decades.
An endangered species, duskies aren’t very common in Delaware waters. When they do surface, they’re easily mistaken for sandbar sharks. But in this new study, the Smithsonian tracked dusky sharks swimming past the southern tip of Delaware on their migrations up and down the Atlantic. For conservationists, it’s a sign that protections put in place are slowly starting to pay off.
The sharks’ numbers plummeted in the 1980s and 1990s, when well-intentioned managers offered sharks as an “alternative fishery,” while other stocks, like cod, were collapsing. The overfishing that followed wiped out anywhere from 65% to 90% of the Chesapeake’s duskies, said Bangley, now a postdoc at Dalhousie University in Nova Scotia. Managers banned all intentional dusky shark fishing in 2000. Five years later, they created the Mid-Atlantic Shark Closed Area along the North Carolina coast. The zone prohibits bottom longline fishing, which can ensnare dusky sharks, for seven months of the year.
October 16, 2o18 — Off the shores of Newfoundland, Canada, an ecosystem is unraveling at the hands (or pincers) of an invasive crab.
Some 1,500 kilometers (930 miles) to the south, the same invasive crab — the European green crab — is helping New England marshes rebuild.
Both cases are featured in a new study that shows how the impacts of these alien invaders are not always straightforward.
Around the world, invasive species are a major threat to many coastal ecosystems and the benefits they provide, from food to clean water. Attitudes among scientists are evolving, however, as more research demonstrates that they occasionally carry a hidden upside.
“It’s complicated,” said Christina Simkanin, a biologist at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center, “which isn’t a super-satisfying answer if you want a direct, should we keep it or should we not? But it’s the reality.”
Simkanin co-authored a new study showing that on the whole, coastal ecosystems store more carbon when they are overrun by invasive species.
Take the contradictory case of the European green crab. These invaders were first spotted in Newfoundland in 2007. Since then, they have devastated eelgrass habitats, digging up native vegetation as they burrow for shelter or dig for prey. Eelgrass is down 50 percent in places the crabs have moved into. Some sites have suffered total collapse.
That’s been devastating for fish that spend their juvenile days among the seagrass. Where the invasive crabs have moved in, the total weight of fish is down tenfold.
The loss of eelgrass also means these underwater meadows soak up less planet-warming carbon dioxide from the atmosphere.
In Cape Cod, Massachusetts, the same crab is having the opposite impact.
Off the coast of New England, fishermen have caught too many striped bass and blue crabs. These species used to keep native crab populations in check. Without predators to hold them back, native crabs are devouring the marshes.
August 30, 2018 — Chesapeake Bay watermen have long viewed the cownose ray as a pest, preying on a vulnerable oyster population. Their contempt even inspired tournaments of bow-wielding ray hunters — a practice the state has banned, at least temporarily.
But new research backs up concerns that the winged creatures could themselves be susceptible to overfishing, an outcome that some scientists fear could harm the bay’s health.
Scientists at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center in Edgewater, Md., tracked a group of rays over two years. The rays, they found in research published last week in the journal Marine Ecology Progress Series, spend their winters around Cape Canaveral, Fla., then migrate north in the spring to the same rivers where researchers initially found them — perhaps the rivers and creeks where they were born.
The finding could be valuable as Maryland fishery regulators develop the state’s first plan to manage the cownose ray population, balancing the concerns of the seafood industry with the limited data available on the rays’ place in the Chesapeake ecosystem.
August 21, 2017 — There’s an invasion plaguing the coastal waters of Southern California.
Waves of tiny interlopers spark havoc at fisheries, clog municipal water pipes and frustrate boaters who must dislodge buckets of sea crud.
They’ve altered our coastal regions’ ecosystems, endangered native fish and birthed such nasty problems as “swimmer’s itch.”
Accelerated in recent decades by international trade, invasive sea creatures have hitchhiked here in and alongside massive cargo vessels from around the globe.
Local officials admit they often don’t know enough about these oft-destructive invaders to halt their environmental takeovers or truly know to what extent the strategies they’ve launched against them are actually working.
But experts from such prestigious organizations as the Smithsonian Environment Research Center have vowed to gather the intelligence needed to rescue native species by studying the incoming hordes, comparing the myriad areas they’ve infiltrated and assessing whether anti-invasive methods and regulations already in place are effective.
“We still don’t know enough about these species,” said Brianna Tracy, a research biologist for the center, which has launched four years of monitoring of the waters along the nation’s largest seaport, the twin Long Beach and Los Angeles cargo complexes.
March 31, 2017 — Scientists have a powerful new tool to help them “see” fish in the Chesapeake Bay’s murky tributaries, and it’s yielding some surprisingly good news about two of the estuary’s most troubled species. “Imaging sonar” uses sound to help them view, and count, passing fish in dark or cloudy water. For the past few years, scientists with the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center have been deploying one of these underwater sound cameras in some of the Bay’s rivers to monitor spawning runs of alewife and blueback herring, collectively known as river herring.
No one knows for sure how many river herring are in the Bay, as fisheries managers lack the staff and resources to do a comprehensive assessment. But a SERC-led team of scientists deployed an imaging sonar device in the Choptank River in 2014 that captured images of the fish as they swam by. Based on the rate at which scientists saw the shadowy blips cross their computer screens, they estimated that as many as 1.3 million river herring swam upriver that spring to spawn. That’s more than expected, and way more than state biologists had figured were there in the early 1970s, the last time anyone looked intensively at the Choptank’s herring runs.