In our second week on the dragons of Dreamworks’ How to Train Your Dragon trilogy, we have a flamin’ good time discovering why those dragons are WAY too wacky, exactly how much intraspecies predation goes on in Berk and why you should really make up your mind about domestication.
03:49 – Vikings in Cinema
10:57 – Ecology of the Dragons
29:17 – Toothless vs. the Furious Five
You can also find us on iTunes and Google Play.
Species like this red-crowned crane perform yearly migrations, but how do they weigh up the costs and benefits? (Image Credit: Alistair Rae, CC BY-SA 2.0)
Where the wild birds go: explaining the differences in migratory destinations across terrestrial bird species (2018) Somveille, Manica & Rodrigues. Ecography, 42, p. 225-236.
Migratory birds make up a huge chunk of the world’s bird life, yet there are still a lot of gaps in our knowledge concerning why they migrate to the areas they do. There’s a variety of potential benefits to migration, from remaining within a comfortable temperature range or a preferred habitat, to gaining access to areas that have a surplus in resources, to escaping competition with resident species. However, migration also results in increased mortality due to the amount of energy it takes. This week’s study tried to analyse the drivers of migration, and what trade-offs were made between migration’s potential benefits and costs.
We sometimes ignore the effects of climate change on plant life, but the potential severity of these effects isn’t something that should be ignored for long (Image Credit: Pisauakan, CC0)
From the California wildfires to the recent strikes across Australian primary schools, climate change is a topic that only seems to grow in its ubiquity. Yet whilst humans are increasingly focused on more obvious repercussions, such as extreme weather events, animal extinctions and shifting coastlines, we sometimes forget that climate change will have severe repercussions for plant life as well.
I spoke to Professor Johanna Schmitt of the University of California earlier this year to discuss some of those repercussions. Johanna’s team is working to determine how well certain plant species will be able to adapt in the face of rapid climate change.
Sea otters are one of many charismatic species found along the California coast, yet recovery doesn’t seem to be helping them. Is it something about their habitat that is preventing population growth? (Image Credit: “Mike” Michael L. Baird, CC BY 2.0)
Gaps in kelp cover may threaten the recovery of California sea otters (2018) Nicholson et al., Ecography, DOI:10.1111/ecog.03561
In the 18th and 19th centuries, the fur trade was a massive industry in North America. As a result, many species were hunted and trapped to near extinction. The California sea otter (Enhydra lutris) was reduced in population to less than 50 total individuals. The enactment of the Internation Fur Treaty allowed the species (and others) to come back from the brink of extinction, and they now number over 3200 individuals and are spread across 525km of the California coast. Interestingly, although the population is recovering, it has not bounced back as quickly as other protected mammals living in the same habitat. The California sea lion, for example, has a maximum population growth rate more than twice that of the sea otter (11.7% compared to 5%).
Despite the remarkable recovery of the species, the sea otters occupy less than a quarter of their historic range and have not expanded along the coast in 20 years. The authors of this paper wanted to investigate what it is about the sea otters and their habitat that is slowing this population’s growth rate and spread along the coast.
Parasites like this leech can be found all over the world, and anyone growing up near freshwater knows to check for them. But many consider these animals “gross”, so how can we motivate the public and scientists to care about them? (Image credit: John Douglas, CC BY-SA 2.0)
As someone who works with parasites, I have to confess that I love them. They are beyond interesting, and I delight in telling people about them and what they do to their host organisms to survive. More often than not, people cringe or look like they would rather run away than hear more about such disgusting creatures. I know that as a disease ecologist I am very much in the minority when it comes to how I feel about parasites, but I think it’s important that we understand how vital these organisms are to the natural world, and the benefits they offer to scientists and their research.
Dingoes are Australia’s largest native predator. but are they capable of suppressing feral cat populations? (Image Credit: Bernard Dupont, CC BY-SA 2.0)
Diet of dingoes and cats in Central Australia: does trophic competition underpin a rare mammal refuge? (2018) McDonald et al., Journal of Mammalogy, DOI:10.1093/jmammal/gyy083
Feral cats are a huge problem for wildlife in plenty of continents. However, there’s nowhere they have had quite so severe an effect as in Australia. Mammals between 50g and five kilos have seen huge reductions in numbers, and many species have gone extinct. Yet there are some areas in Australia which appear to present refuges for native mammals, so it’s crucial to understand the mechanisms behind these areas.
The MacDonnell Ranges in South Australia are home to large dingo populations, which prey on the local kangaroo species. Dingoes can also suppress cat populations through direct predation. The purpose of this paper was to investigate to what degree dingo and cat diets overlap, to see whether the presence of dingoes contributes to the formation of a refugee for native mammals.
Some fish scientists, like recent ASFB delegate Jarod Lyon, have regular contact with fishers who benefit from the work academics and researchers carry out on fish. But is there enough of this sort of communication between the fish science community and fishers? (Image Credit: Jarod Lyon, CC BY-SA 4.0)
When a food source provides almost half a planet with protein, you can expect the people who deliver that food source to play an important role in society. Fishing is no exception. Any country that has a marine or freshwater ecosystem in close proximity will have a fishing community, and that community can play a variety of roles, from something as simple as putting food on people’s tables to campaigning heavily to keep your country from joining the EU.
So it makes sense that fishers should have access to good fish science, at every level. If you’re a multi-million-dollar corporation, you need to know how fish stocks will respond to certain catch levels over a sustained period. If you’re a local or specialised fishing community, you need to know how available your catch will be in five years given temperature increases. And if you’re one person on a boat in a river, you might want to know how best to treat an over- or under-sized fish to ensure it survives being released.
It follows, then, that there should be open communication between fish scientists and fishers. At this year’s Australian Society of Fish Biology conference, I asked a variety of delegates a simple question: Is there open communication?