No doubt you have seen the Amazing Ocean Facts circulating around the web. It seems to be drawing renewed interest even though it cam out last year. Overall, I love the concept.  Humor, cartoons, ocean creatures, and some science. Yes more please!  However, I have to shot at National Geographic all because I take size seriously.

In the above cartoon the Colossal Squid is stated to be twice the length of school bus.  The average length of your standard school bus is around 45 feet long.  So according to this comic a Colossal Squid is 90 feet long. I mentioned in my other post about the sizes of Giant Squids that the longest recorded specimen was 42 feet long, 3 feet shy of a single school bus.  No here is the kicker.  Giant Squids are longer than Colossal Squids.

Steve O’Shea one of the world’s leading experts on Big Ass Squids has this to say.

On April 1, 2003 the popular press was first alerted to the Colossal Squid, a.k.a. Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni, although this species has been known to the scientific community since 1925, after it was described from two arm (brachial) crowns recovered from sperm whale stomachs (Robson 1925). We have located 11 further reports in which adult and subadult specimens have been described, and are aware of at least 7 further, similarly sized specimens that have yet to be reported. Juveniles of this species are not uncommon from surface waters to ~1000m depth….This species attains the greatest weight, but not necessarily greatest length of all squid species, and is known to attain a mantle length of at least 2.5m.

A newer specimen caught since Steve wrote the above is the Te Papa Museum Museum tank specimen that I’ve seen in person. It measures in at an actual total length on the 5.4 meters (17.7 feet).

17.7 feet is no where close to 90 feet.

Why does this all matter?

The post What is the true size of Colossal Squid? first appeared on Deep Sea News.

As a followup to Monday’s post on the National Geographic Atlantic bluefin-hunting reality TV show Wicked Tuna, I wanted to highlight some other perspectives. Please go ahead and post those I missed in the comments.

From the Center for American Progress (h/t Cameron Coates):

Bluefin tuna is one of the poster children for overfishing. So one might expect that “Wicked Tuna,” the National Geographic Channel’s new series about bluefin tuna fishermen in Gloucester, Massachusetts, would take a fairly conservation-minded perspective on fishermen’s efforts to capture these majestic giants, some of which can grow to more than 1,000 pounds and more than eight feet in length.

In fact, National Geographic deals its viewers a fairly even-handed look at the bluefin tuna. And ultimately, the takeaway message may be that ironically the best way Americans can help save this fish is by supporting New England’s artisanal bluefin fishery.

From Lee Crockett of Pew Environment, whom I interviewed for Monday’s post:

When ads for the show began appearing, it was not surprising that “Wicked Tuna” attracted a lot of attention, both positive and negative. Some say National Geographic is glorifying the killing of a threatened species and the program will increase the demand for bluefin, further jeopardizing its survival. Others responded that the series simply portrays a group of hard-working fishermen going about their lives, following in the footsteps of generations of New Englanders who came before them.

As is often the case, the truth may fall between these two positions.

From the Center for Biological Diversity:

“Bluefin tuna has been called ‘cocaine of the seas’ because of the astronomical prices it fetches as luxury sushi. Its economic value should encourage us to save the species to sustain tuna fisheries into the future. Instead, we’re seeing places like the National Geographic Channel buy into bluefin fever, glorifying the chase for one of the most troubled fish on the planet,” said Catherine Kilduff of the Center for Biological Diversity, which launched a U.S. boycott of bluefin tuna in 2010 following dramatic declines in its populations.

From Beach Chair Scientist:

The dilemma I have in deciding to watch the show is that NatGeo may be glorifying the bluefin tuna as a species of consumption so that people start ordering it more. But, folks need to understand the repercussions and ask one more question, “Is this bluefin tuna caught in the U.S.?”

From Carl Safina:

Contrary to worst fears, the show’s first episode did not glorify the fishing. Contrary to romanticizing the fishery, I felt, the show can make one feel that this isn’t an attractive way to try to turn a profit. These guys are addicted gamblers, gambling on getting a bite, themselves lured into a high-stakes game, and prompted to work even in dangerous weather.

And from Sea Monster Blog, why the western Pacific tropical tuna talks collapsed this week – not directly about Atlantic bluefin, but covering many of the same problems with managing large oceanic species that don’t care about national borders:

Scientific assessments clearly recommend urgent action to address overfishing and reduce fishing mortality for bigeye tuna, halt any increases in fishing mortality for yellowfin and probably albacore, reduce fishing mortality of juvenile bigeye and yellowfin, and develop precautionary limits for skipjack. If these actions are not taken the stocks of these species will see further declines for some stocks and potentially see overfishing start to occur for others.

But despite clear advice from the Commission’s scientific committee that further measures were required to address overfishing of bigeye tuna, the Commission couldn’t agree how members should distribute the “burden of conservation”.

The post Wicked Tuna link roundup first appeared on Deep Sea News.

When I wrote about Wicked Tuna, the National Geographic channel’s Atlantic bluefin tuna fishing reality show (first aired Sunday night), I thought it would be pretty straightforward. Every rating system  – Seafood Watch, Sea Choice, Blue Ocean Institute – lists Atlantic bluefin as an “Avoid.” A look through the scientific literature – though I am not a tuna or fisheries expert – showed a vast gap between the fisheries literature, which focuses on bluefin population structure , and the conservation literature, which is trying to sound the alarm about bluefin’s decline. Frankly, I didn’t think it would be terribly controversial to argue that a purportedly conservation-focused organization like National Geographic shouldn’t encourage consumption of Atlantic bluefin tuna.

So I was pretty surprised when two very different scientists, Lee Crockett, Director of Federal Fisheries Policy at the Pew Environment Group and Dr. Molly Lutcavage, Director of the Large Pelagics Research Center at U Mass-Amherst disagreed with my perspective. (I was offered a chance to talk with Crockett about bluefin before the post went up, but the scheduling didn’t work out until afterwards. Dr. Lutcavage reached out to DSN in response to the post.) Both of these tuna experts believe that Wicked Tuna is good publicity for the Atlantic bluefin.

Crockett sees Wicked Tuna as an opportunity to educate the public as to what fisheries should look like. He said, “Most people have no clue where their fish come from. This show gives a sense of what fishing is actually like. Pew is supportive of small scale selective fishermen – they’re the kind of fishermen we ought to be supporting since they are selective and catch what they target. Unless you are opposed to all fishing, these are the kind of fisheries we ought to be promoting.”

I asked him if the show was misleading, since most Americans are not eating tuna caught with hand gear – the most popular seafoods in America are farmed shrimp, farmed salmon, and canned tuna (which is mostly caught with far less selective longlining or purse seining). He pointed out that bluefin is indeed a niche market in the United States, but “I look at it the same way National Geographic looks at it – the show is educating people in an entertaining way about bluefin and different types of fishing. They’re educating the public and getting them to understand where their food comes from.” While Americans aren’t eating significant amounts of tuna caught with hand gear, “the show itself is an opportunity to educate them about fishing, types of fishing and general principles that are useful.” Since Pew’s bluefin tuna conservation efforts focus on reducing longline bycatch of spawning adults and other marine wildlife in the Gulf of Mexico, increasing the public understanding of fishing gear is critical to their work.

Dr. Lutcavage had a much more basic disagreement – she says there are far more bluefin tuna in the Atlantic than have been reported in the stock assessments. She said, “We lack some of the most basic knowledge on life history and population status. We don’t know how they [the tuna] utilize the oceans.” In order to see as many commercially sized bluefin as we do, Lutcavage said, “the numbers of juveniles must be huge.” She noted that in 1993, the bluefin tuna stock assessment indicated that there were only 7000 adults left, but that aerial surveys  “counted a couple hundred thousand in a small area.” According to Lutcavage, “No one ever made corrections.”

Lutcavage, who was interviewed for Wicked Tuna‘s website, was frustrated with the way that scientific uncertainty is communicated in fisheries management. “The story represented in the media is not good science and doesn’t represent what the state of the art is…stuff people are touting is wrong. No one does cleanup in the media.” Scientists “need to look back and see how we did…getting it right is important and not getting it right has impacts.”

I asked both Crockett and Lutcavage if people should eat Atlantic bluefin tuna. Both stressed that overfishing is occurring in the eastern Atlantic and Mediterranean, and that the western Atlantic was relatively well managed. Crockett encouraged people to learn more about fisheries. “Wicked Tuna is useful because it is raising people’s awareness in a way that is entertaining.  And then you throw in a conservation message, there’s a greater chance of it resonating and sticking with them a little bit. People see the PSAs that go along with it [Wicked Tuna], they click on a website, and learn some more.” Lutcavage stressed that what you eat is a personal choice, but that she herself “would not eat a fish caught in the Mediterranean until they are complying with [ICCAT] quotas. I support our local fisheries fishing responsibly and sustainably.”

So will Wicked Tuna really educate people about the advantages of hand gear is over purse seining or longlining, and about regulatory uncertainty in fisheries management? I haven’t seen the show yet, so I can’t say. I can say this – these conversations threw me into a bit of a fisheries existential crisis. If a marine scientist such as myself can’t read through the peer-reviewed scientific literature and ICCAT stock assessments and form a reasonable opinion on whether eating Atlantic bluefin tuna is Good or Bad, what hope does the general public have? I imagined trying to explain the complexities of the Wicked Tuna fishery to my sushi-loving non-scientist sister who lives north of Boston, not far from Gloucester.

Me: “Hey, did you know that you can eat bluefin tuna caught in Gloucester? There’s a TV show!”
Sister: “Cool! How do you know if the tuna comes from Gloucester?”
Me: “Well, ask the server.”
Sister: “You want me to give a fish quiz to the server? What if they don’t know? Or don’t speak good English?”
Me: “Ask them to ask the chef.”
Sister: “Ummm…ok.”
Me: “But be careful because a lot of bluefin that’s sold is ranched and that’s bad.”
Sister: “Ranched?”
Me: “Unless the fish is mislabeled. So actually it may not be bluefin tuna at all.”
Sister: “You know, I like eel too.”
Me: “But eel is bad!”
Sister: “So, how about those Red Sox?”
Me: “What? Since when do we talk about baseball?”
Sister: “But it’s better than listening to THIS.”

Over the past years I’ve had many of these encounters. While seafood-choice style cards work for the informed consumer purchasing their fish from fishmongers or higher-end restaurants, they’re pretty challenging to use in a more general market. My family, all of whom are dedicated chain supermarket fish counter customers, call me from the fish counter on occasion to ask if something is “good” or “bad.” It’s astonishingly difficult to figure out – just last week my father told me proudly that he purchased steelhead and wasn’t that a good choice? I did a double take. Steelhead? Federally-listed-as-threatened steelhead? At the supermarket? But then I realized it was probably just regular farmed rainbow trout, marketed under a fancier-sounding name. Even an informed consumer is dependent upon correct labeling and provenance – and seafood mislabeling is rampant. I’ve even been outright lied to in restaurants by servers who just don’t want to deal with a Portlandia-style inquisition.

Maybe the biggest value of the controversy over Wicked Tuna will be the spotlight that it shines on the complexity of sustainable fisheries. As Crockett said in our conversation, “The hardest thing we have is getting people to listen. Wicked Tuna may be an entry point to get people to pay attention.”

BEFORE COMMENTING READ THIS: Critical comments are welcome, but comments containing personal insults will be deleted without warning.

The post Eating Wicked Tuna: A marine scientist tries to figure out what the heck is going on first appeared on Deep Sea News.

In the 1989 James Cameron sci-fi movie The Abyss, there’s a scene when Ed Harris’ character dons a special environmental suit that allows him to breathe an oxygen-laden liquid.  Thus protected from the risks of crushing deep-sea pressures (no air = no voids to collapse), he drops from a deep submerged research facility into the inky depths of an abyssal canyon to find and disarm a lost weapon.  During the descent, robbed of speech by the liquid he’s breathing, he’s forced to communicate with his colleagues on the base using text messages tapped out on a forearm console.  What ensues is one of the more tense scenes in sci-fi history as Harris suffers first the effects of pressure, then tackles the errant weapon, and eventually stumbles upon a remarkable submarine alien race in the movie’s climax, all communicated piecemeal to his colleagues on the base in choppy text speech.  Rarely have little green letters appearing on black screen carried so much drama.  Have some new friends down here. Guess they’ve been here awhile…

The whole scene has an eerily prophetic feel in light of exciting news that James Cameron has, himself, made a historic descent in a new submersible beyond the abyssal depths, to the hadal reaches of the deepest part of the world’s oceans: the Challenger Deep in the Marianas Trench, south of Guam in the west Pacific.  This event marks the first occasion that a manned vehicle has been to Challenger Deep since the first and only time it ever happened when, in 1960, Don Wash and Jacques Piccard descended in the bathyscaphe Trieste.  That storied 1960 mission occurred during the heyday of modern US exploration when, fueled by the intense international competition and brinksmanship of the Cold War, Americans could and did tackle any challenge: space, speed, altitude and depth.  In the wake of the Trieste effort, the submersible Alvin was built 4 years later and became the flagship deep sea vehicle for the US and arguably the world, for the next 40 years, even though it has never had the capability of returning to Challenger Deep.

Times change.  The motivations for exploration are different these days and we think it’s fair to say diminished somewhat.  Space folks are experiencing much the same effect, most recently epitomized by the cancellation of the space shuttle project without a viable replacement vehicle for near-earth operations.  Yes, marine science, engineering technology and the motivation for exploratory missions have all changed in the interceding 52 years since Trieste and Deep Challenger.  One constant is that Alvin is still with us; indeed, Alvin is the only human occupied vehicle (HOV) left for deep-sea research in the US.  Think about that for a second: the only vessel that can take humans to the deep sea in America is 48 years old.  The same age as this:Of course we’re being hyperbolic; Alvin is no way a rusted hooptie.  It has been completely renovated and refitted several times and is still a very advanced research tool.  Our point is more that the original design is pretty long in the tooth and you have to wonder if starting from scratch using current design principles we might be able to devise a better tool.  The same has of course been said many times for the space shuttle.

Not that deep sea research has waned for lack of manned research tools; far from it.  Advances in remotely operated vehicle (ROV) technology have seen a veritable explosion of deep sea research and some remarkable discoveries that are still occurring at a rapid rate today.  The discoveries of these remote controlled robot explorers have included the hydrothermal vent communities, the exploration of mid ocean ridges, the census of marine life and discovery of deep reefs, brine pools, cold seeps and other extraordinary habitats that prove that the deep sea is anything but a cold lifeless desert.  HOV’s have been used for some of these missions too, but ROV’s certainly seem to be the tool of choice these days.  Why is that? The answer is basically pragmatism.  There are incredible challenges to sending people into the abyssal depths and beyond.  The pressures can exceed a thousand atmospheres, which has been described as equivalent to inverting the Eifel Tower and resting its point on your big toe.  That kind of pressure means that a titanium sphere is about the only object that can maintain a 1 atmosphere internal environment.  By contrast, no passenger means no need for air spaces at all, so ROV’s can be built more cheaply and easily, and without the need for complex life support systems that can ensure the safety of the vehicles occupant(s).  An ROV can allow for longer bottom times not constrained by tired pilots or scientists with small bladders.  ROV’s allow for a whole array of scientists to participate in the dive, all sitting in the same control center in the mother ship watching HD monitors.  Opposed to the 1-2 that can fit into a submersible.  The rise of the ROV is therefore rational, sensible, effective and … boring.

Boring? BORING??  Yes, boring.  We say that because we think it’s largely those in the business of researching the deep sea who can look past the removal of the human element and derive deep satisfaction from ROV operations, by focusing instead on the substantive returns on the topic of their research.  Often times they are able to do this out of the luxury of having at least tasted the 1^st hand HOV experience themselves.  They know what it looks like out the porthole, so can better relate to what shows on the video feed coming back from an ROV.  Other times it’s a purely rationalist thing: scientists know that they’re going to get more bang for their research buck from an ROV, so that’s where they invest their efforts, research funds and emotional energy.

It’s a reasonable question to ask then: What is the value of the HOV in modern deep sea research? We have to give a slightly disappointing answer here, which is that we don’t really know.  If one applies that purely pragmatic approach, then ROV’s will probably win every time.  That’s a pity, because to do so is to overlook the inspirational and aspirational elements of the HOV approach.  One does not have to have been to a hydrothermal vent in Alvin to appreciate HOV’s anymore than one has to have been to the moon on Apollo 11 to appreciate Armstrong and Aldrin.  Our position is this: the idea of humans traveling to extreme environments, challenging and overcoming technical and engineering obstacles to do things not yet done, that’s the stuff that’s going to inspire kids to a career in science, not an economically rationalist analysis of research ROI that favors a robotic approach.

As we sat on our respective couches tonight hanging on to every tweet from Cameron and crew (‘cos hell knows, the mainstream media didn’t cover it much, but that’s another post for another day), we felt that we were participants.  When Cameron launched, we launched with him.  As he descended, we waited patiently for each update on his depth and progress (thanks @PaulGAllen!).  When, near the end, 30 minutes went by without any word, we were filled with anxiety and consternation.  And finally, when that silence broke with the statement that Cameron had reached the bottom, we sighed with relief and cheered for his success!  We celebrated because we understand that this represents a profound moment in our history.  From thousands of kilometers away, we participated.  We are reminded of our friends cheering for teams in the current NCAA tournament.  Why not just let robot play?  Why do we need humans?  Because human involvement allows us all to participate.

All of which brings us back to James Cameron (@jimcameron).  Here we have a wealthy individual who has had phenomenal success in another sphere of human endeavor and has then chosen to spend some of his wealth to do something done only once before, and do it a new way for the first time in half a century.  It’s not like he just decided to do this yesterday; Cameron has been doing deep sea dives for years and has over 70 under his belt, which is more than many scientists.  He is often quoted as saying that he makes blockbuster movies to support his real passion for deep-sea exploration.  How do we get aboard that gravy train?! You need only look at the aforementioned scene from The Abyss, or perhaps at the rainforest flora of Avatar’s megadiverse planet of Pandora (all of which look remarkably like benthic invertebrates of various flavors), to see that the ocean and the life within it have influenced him deeply.

We are not afraid to say that we are inspired by his commitment and his willingness to put his money and effort where his mouth is, by pushing the envelope of human exploration.  And yes, even we, with our charismatic marine biology research, aspire to his achievements, too: We would love to be in that little sphere and to peer out that fist-sized porthole and see things never seen by anyone before.

The question that remains unanswered is: “Is it science”?  We would argue emphatically YES.  Cameron’s team did equip their sub with a manipulator arm and suction sampler and they plan to return with specimens from the Challenger Deep, which Trieste could not, although a few ROV’s have done so in the interceding period.  Of course, we hope that this will only be the first of many dives, that Alvin has a new stable mate and the world has a new full-depth-capable research submersible.   The team also had many technological challenges to overcome in the construction of the Deep Challenger submersible, so it’s science from an engineering perspective too.  Doubtless they will gather abundant amounts of video data that can be used to answer scientific questions, just as it can be used to make compelling National Geographic shows.  And the whole endeavor is exploratory in nature, and ocean exploration is and always has been the realm of science.  Observation is, after all, the first step of the scientific method!

Why, then, might some people dismiss the Deep Challenger mission as a rich guy’s boondoggle?   It’s partly the person doing it.   Cameron is not a scientist by training and will likely not turn the results of this expedition into, say, peer-reviewed papers, so perhaps it’s considered pseudo-scientific, but we think this is a dour view that does little justice to the motivations of Deep Challenger and the societal values of this and all explorations.  Even if you put aside any and all pretense to science in this mission (which would be unfair), then simply by virtue of the attention that Cameron’s success will bring to deep-sea research, the mission will have been an unmitigated success.  Indeed, one only need look at the media excitement over the perceived “race to the bottom” (in which Cameron, Richard Branson and Sylvia Earle were supposedly competing to be the first back to Challenger Deep) to see the power of HOV exploration to raise the profile of deep sea research.  In this “race to the bottom” story, however manufactured, we see the media reaching for the kind of compelling conflict that motivated the space race in the 60’s, drama that ultimately shaped the nation’s perceptions of science and engineering for two generations.  Doesn’t that tell you something about the extraordinary potential value of exploratory science?

There’s a great opportunity offset here, too: every column inch spent talking about the wonders and challenges of deep sea exploration is one less inch spent on the latest overpaid celebrity without any real accomplishments or why this pair of pants is must-get for 2012.  Plug in a new name or a new designer and it is the same regurgitated news from last year.  By contrast, every deep dive reveals something new and exciting in the oceans.  Why then is the entire annual ocean exploration budget just a fraction of our national science budget (which is in turn an undersized slice of the federal budget)?  And why has NOAA just zeroed out the budget for the National Undersea Research Program?  Cameron has described this development as “piss-poor” and we definitely agree.

For all these reasons we think it’s time for marine biologists to proudly step into the spotlight offered by the fantastic achievements of the Deep Challenger team.  We need to seize this opportunity to show the public that there is still so much yet to learn in the deep, and that exploration, far from being remote and esoteric, is possible and still inspiring, right here, right now, on this planet.  We should admire the adventurous spirit of James Cameron and to embrace him as a new and legitimate celebrity advocate with tremendous capacity to advance the cause of the marine sciences.  Who knows, by so doing, we might well be able to secure a better funding future for other deep sea research programs and thereby advance science, however you want to define it.  In short, when Cameron succeeds, we all succeed.

The post James Cameron’s Deep Sea Challenge: a scientific milestone or rich guy’s junket? first appeared on Deep Sea News.

The contradictions of the reality TV show Wicked Tuna, which follows fishers out of Gloucester, Massachusetts, as they use hook-and-line to catch bluefin tuna, are utterly mind-bending. Normally, I’d be cheering hook-and-line commercial fishers at the top of my lungs – unlike long lines or purse seines, there’s little bycatch – but unfortunately bluefin tuna is the posterfish for overexploitation and international havoc. Estimated to be at 17-33% percent of its 1950 spawning stock biomass, bluefin is being overfished so badly that it won’t recover even under the current “rebuilding quotas.” So I was pretty shocked that National Geographic, ostensibly a conservation organization, will soon air an entire show about killing off this badly damaged population.

Possibly in response to criticism from marine conservationist Carl Safina, National Geographic has stuffed Wicked Tuna‘s webpage with conservation content. There’s interviews with scientists (Safina included), an overview of tuna conservation issues, and a seafood guide that has the unintentionally ironic message of urging consumers to avoid both bluefin tuna and New England cod and halibut. There’s even the astonishing spectacle of Gloucester fishermen stiffly proclaiming how much they love NOAA regulations over the caption: “The Wicked Tuna fishermen talk about the benefits of fishing quotas.” THAT is a sentence that’s rarely been written! Gloucester is famous for its intense dislike of fisheries regulations, periodically hanging scientists and regulators (and themselves) in effigy to protest changes in fisheries management.

The Gloucester fishermen argue that the United States bluefin fishery is tiny and well-managed, and that population is declining because of European overfishing and illegal fishing. This is true. According to Taylor et al. 2011’a bluefin population estimate:

Because of the mixed-stock composition of western Atlantic fisheries, the successful rebuilding of the western population is tied to controlling the much larger fishing mortality rates that occur on the eastern stock. For example, continued high fishing mortality rates in the Mediterranean Sea and eastern Atlantic may compromise rebuilding efforts for the western Atlantic population. The converse, however, is not true. The eastern stock is both much larger and much more concentrated in the Mediterranean Sea. ICCAT could potentially increase the chances of successful western-stock rebuilding if it began to model and consider recovery plans for eastern and western populations jointly rather than independently.

Translation: unless the Europeans get their act together, it doesn’t really matter how careful the Gloucester fishermen are. The western population of bluefin off the east coast of the US is dependent on the eastern population off the west coast of Europe.

So, then, what is my problem with Wicked Tuna? It’s this: by glamorizing the process of catching bluefin, I fear that Wicked Tuna will drive up consumer demand, leading to even more overfishing and driving the bluefin closer to functional extinction. The popularity of The Deadliest Catch drove up the American market demand for king crab – but since Alaska king crab is a well-managed fishery, this was good for the crab fishers without impacting the sustainability of the fishery. In contrast, the international market for bluefin is about as far from well-managed as you can get. According to Pew Environment Group, 141% more tuna was sold in 2010 than was even allowed to be caught under the current quota, pointing to rampant overfishing. Even this estimate doesn’t account for the enormous black market in eastern Atlantic bluefin tuna. Under this poor management, an increased demand for tuna will increase prices, leading to more and more overfishing for the last remaining large tuna. This may already be happening – in January, a bluefin tuna auctioned in Japan sold for $736,000, or $1,238 per pound.

This mess isn’t the Gloucester fishers’ fault. They are following the law. My question is for National Geographic, an organization that purports to have a conservation message. If a reality show combines the hunting of a severely depleted species (possibly increasing demand for its meat) with a conservation message –  does that make it ok? National Geographic thinks so:

National Geographic Society executive vice-president for mission programs Terry Garcia says he hopes that the National Geographic Channel’s new reality series about bluefin fishermen, Wicked Tuna, will raise awareness of the issues surrounding the bluefin’s prospects for survival. “Educating and illuminating this issue for the public is something we need to do,” he explains. “It hasn’t been, up to this point. I was in favor of doing this show if we coupled it with a solid [conservation] message about what’s been going on with the bluefin… this is a complicated issue.”….

Unlike in the eastern Atlantic and Mediterranean, where there have been widespread allegations of illegal fishing, the U.S. fishing industry is “the best in the world” in legal compliance, according to the National Geographic Society’s Garcia, a former NOAA staffer who participated in ICCAT negotiations on bluefin conservation in the 1990s. “But that doesn’t change the essential fact, which is that bluefin stocks are overfished.  You can go back and forth on how we got here, but with bluefin at such low abundance levels, the real question is, what do you do about that?”

Indeed. What do we do about that? Will Wicked Tuna get people excited about hard choices in high seas fisheries regulation, or just make them hungry for some bluefin sushi? My cynical side says that the latter – wanting to identify with the Wicked Tuna fishers by partaking of their catch – is far more likely than the former. And since most people and restaurants don’t know where their fish comes from, the bluefin they eat could easily come from from Spain (one of the worst fisheries offenders), not Gloucester, therefore contributing to the end of the bluefin.

Still, maybe I’m too pessimistic. Maybe people will identify with the Wicked Tuna fishers by cultivating Massachusetts accents (oh, please, let people in SoCal start saying “wicked ahsome” – I’d feel so much less alone!) and advocating for better cross-Atlantic cooperation in bluefin fisheries regulation and a crackdown on illegal fishing. Maybe Wicked Tuna will shine such a spotlight on the plight of international fisheries management that this magnificent fish – and fishers who star in Wicked Tuna – will find a way to survive. We’ll see.

[UPDATE: I wrote a followup post based on the reactions to this one. Check it out.]

The post A wicked bad idear: National Geographic hunts bluefin tuna for entertainment first appeared on Deep Sea News.

Despite the “hunting the giant squid” theme, there is some really cool footage here. some of it I haven’t seen before.

The post National Geographic on Capturing Bioluminescence on Camera first appeared on Deep Sea News.

Though the week will conclude on Saturday, next Sunday (April 10, 9pm EST/PST) starts more exciting salty expeditions with the season premiere of Shark Men. These scientists use some new methods to try to efficiently capture sharks for data on their reproduction. Last season they tagged 13 sharks, lets see they do in Farallons this season! Naturally, I’d recommend slamming down a White Shark (4.5 oz Bacardi 151 + 6 oz Peppermint Schnapps, mix with ice) to get you pumped up for it.

The post Dive into Expedition Week! first appeared on Deep Sea News.

National Geographic embarked on an ambitious two and a half year film project, covering over 420,000 square miles, and telling the story of animal movements for a wide variety of animals. There are several awestruck moments. One of the best stories they told in my opinion was about the multiple generational migration of the monarch butterflies. My 3 year old daughter was entranced by the footage and was thrilled to see thousands of them clumping together on the branches of trees in Mexico.

There were several marine examples though of particular interest to Deep Sea News readers. The Great Migrations film crew followed pods of sperm whales that converged on the Azores to mate, penguins clambering like mad on the rocks of the Falklands to jostle in place for their ritual wooing of their partners, elephant seals and walruses, seabirds and whale sharks, great whites and stingless jellyfish all have their stories told. Whether migrating for food, sex, or a better climate narrator Alec Baldwin sings the song of survival, including all the hardships along the path.

In seems to me to be the most difficult, harrowing and ultimately a heroically devastating migration, the Christmas Island red crab (Gecarcoidea natalis) must  wrestle its way through dense jungle filed with ferocious, eye-stinging ants, traverse steep, rocky terrain, leap off cliffs to get to their spawning grounds. By far my 5 year old son’s favorite part of the series. He is still asking to see the crabs. On the edge of his seat as they attempted to scurry past armies of ants spraying acid in their eyes and laughing as the females crabs were shaking their booties in the surf, he learned about the arduous path these amazing crustaceans make to take care of their offspring.

I won’t give away all the secrets to this fantastic new series. You can tune in to the National Geographic Channel Sunday, November 7 at 8pm ET/PT. More information, footage, pictures at their Great Migrations page online. The first episode is Born to Move and is probably my favorite of the 4 main episodes. I could clamor on about all the other cool footage and stories they told but you really need to see it for yourself! If you are not convinces (I mean come on! Its Nat Geo, you know its going to be good!) here is some penguin footage. There is something about huge numbers of penguins being battered by enormous waves that sends my kids in a hysterical laughing frenzy, apparently its comedy night at the Falklands!

While the four main episodes of Great Migrations tells the stories of the animals, a real hidden gem, and what  thought was the best part of the whole series was their fifth episode, Science of Great Migrations. The producers and film crew followed the research of three groups of scientist studying elephant seal movement, the intricacies of placing a miniature radio transmitter on light-as-a-feather butterflies, and elephant conservation and behavior. The enthusiasm contained by the butterfly researchers was exciting, as they developed and tested the radio transmitters then went looking for their tagged test subjects. Genuine love for their work was masterfully conveyed. But, on the other hand, the sincere dedication and years of hard won data and work of the elephant researchers was rewarded by massive flooding of the village the made their homebase in, losing years of work.

It is wonderful that they choose to show three very different stories of researchers and how they developed from scratch very innovative tools for their work. As a scientist communicator I value the work that National Geographic did in this regard. It is very clear that these were passionate scientists, they effectively communicated the importance of what they were doing, they conveyed the thrill of doing the research and being out in the field and developing new technologies to answer their questions, and wonderfully showed the human side of scientists. Scientists too get frustrated, have to undergo extensive trial and error, and don’t always have things go their way. I hope the public doesn’t blow off this very important segment, because it puts all the storytelling of the first four episodes in context, along with the Behind the Scenes which tells the stories of the film’s crew and producers.

With the recent masterful work of the BBC, i.e. Planet Earth and Blue Planet, it is tempting to compare Great Migrations as National Geographic’s answer to them. In fact, that was one of my intents when I first sat down to write this review, originally titled “Great, but not greatest”. But after thinking about it carefully, I came to the conclusion that these really serve two different purposes. The imagery and videography were beyond words for all of these movies as we would expect from these talented organizations. But the storytelling was very different and this is what sets them apart. Planet Earth, in particular, was really meant to highlight biodiversity. They purposefully went out of their way to document behaviors in animals that rarely made the big time in nature documentaries. It was wonderfully produced, and remains my favorite for all time nature series, but the storytelling was meant to awe and inspire.

Great Migrations, on the other hand, described less animals but really delved into the details about their lives and behavior. The storytelling here was geared to educate and intended to be more comprehensive. They followed entire migratory paths, documented struggle and death, trailed through life cycles and paid homage to the decades of science that went into all the observations an behavior that were described. You almost need to see it through the lens of a science documentary, instead of a nature documentary. With that being said, I am sure it will remain one of the epic documentaries of our time.

More scenes below, don’t forget to follow Great Migrations at the National Geographic Channel website and Tune in THIS SUNDAY! You can also pre-order the DVDs and buy the wonderfully illustrated companion book.

All images and video clips are used with permission from National Geographic.

More perspectives on Great Migrations from:

Observations of a Nerd

Southern Fried Science

Thoughtful Animal

The post Great Migrations first appeared on Deep Sea News.

“Featured in a new “roll call” of life from 25 key ocean regions, marine oddities oscillate, swim, and skitter to an ocean “chorus.” The animals are all on the Census of Marine Life’s newly released species inventory of 25 key areas of the world’s oceans. Each area averages more than 10,000 known forms of life, including jellyfish, octopus, sharks, and crustaceans.

© 2010 National Geographic, Census of Marine Life”

The post A Symphony of Species in the Deep first appeared on Deep Sea News.

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