Cod at Cashes Ledge. Copyright Brian Skerry.
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Where the Girls Are

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Categories: Creature Features

In 1895, a Massachusetts fisherman had what must have been one of the better days of his career when he reeled in his line and found a massive 6-foot long cod that weighed over 210 pounds. While this fish was unusual, legends from those days say three foot long fish were so plentiful it was hard to row a boat across a harbor without running in to one.

Since then, large cod have become much less common in New England. Minimum size limits have meant that fishermen target larger fish, driving down the average size of the population and disproportionately removing the oldest fish from the sea. Today, it’s more typical to find cod measuring about 20 inches, and most cod caught are just 3-7 years old. What’s more, some research suggests that fish may actually be evolving to mature at an earlier age and smaller size in response to these fishing pressures.

In addition to fewer big catches for anglers, this decrease in the average size of cod could cause serious trouble for the population of these fish. Scientists have found that the fecundity of fish—or the number of eggs a female produces each spawning season—increases dramatically with age. The scientists have called this the BOFFFF (Big Old Fat Fecund Female Fish) hypothesis.

What the BOFFFF hypothesis means is that populations of smaller fish will have a harder time rebuilding, because these small fish produce just a fraction of the eggs that Big Fat Females would. The eggs produced by smaller fish also have a lower chance of survival to adulthood.

This graph, created by scientists at the Gulf of Maine Research Institute, shows recent research on the number of eggs produced by female cod at various ages. As you can see, the number of eggs produced rises quickly with age, and the oldest females can produce well over 10 million eggs, compared to just 1-5 million for younger fish.

This graph from the Gulf of Maine Research Institute shows cod egg production, in thousands of eggs, as a function of the age of the cod. The red lines show two different estimates for Georges Bank cod, and the blue line shows Gulf of Maine cod.

This graph from the Gulf of Maine Research Institute shows cod egg production, in thousands of eggs, as a function of the age of the cod. The red lines show two different estimates for Georges Bank cod, and the blue line shows Gulf of Maine cod.

 

The lack of Big Fat Females means that struggling New England cod populations have to depend on the smaller, younger fish to rebuild their numbers—who just can’t match the productivity of their big sisters. To help cod populations recover, the BOFFFFs will have to be protected and restored.

There are a couple of options that could help bring back the Big Fat Females. First, fisheries could implement a maximum catch size for cod. But this would require fishermen to throw back the big fish, and many cod don’t survive being returned to the water once they’ve been caught.

Instead, scientists agree that the best way to bring back the BOFFFFs is to protect their habitat. Marine protected areas—like Cashes Ledge in the Gulf of Maine—provide refuge for cod of all sizes and ages, harboring populations of juvenile cod alongside spawning adults and large females. Protected areas targeted towards aggregations of older fish are the most effective way to ensure that female fish survive to become BOFFFFs and continue to produce the next generation of New England cod.

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Maine Lobster
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The New Signs of Spring

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Categories: Creature Features

Spring has sprung, New England style. All the signs are there – the crocuses came up then got covered by sloppy, wet snow, and there’s a bunch of mud underneath it all. What New Englander doesn’t love this time of year? We get to think about shedding our winter wrappings and revealing our tender flesh to the warmer weather.

This happens in the ocean, too. Maine lobsters typically molt (shed the old shell and grow a new one) in the spring, as the water gets warmer. Lobstermen know this, and structure their fishing time around it. Richard Nelson, a lobsterman in Friendship, Maine, says he tries to catch the hard-shell lobsters in early spring before the molting starts, and then starts catching the new shedders right around when the summer tourists show up. The shedders are easier to eat, with their softer shells, and are sweeter tasting. But the shedders are also more fragile, and can’t be shipped very well, so they need to be eaten locally or sent to a processor.

“Lobstermen usually look forward to the shedders as newfound abundance,” said Richard. Lobsters that were previously too small to keep are bigger after they’ve shed, and are more likely to be of legal size. Normally, the appearance of the shedders is good news, but last year the lobsters in Maine were molting a month earlier than usual, which threw a monkey wrench into the whole fishing season. The tourists weren’t there yet to eat the shedders, and the processors were busy with Canadian lobsters, so they couldn’t take the Maine product.

And there are signs that it’s happening again this year, according to Bob Bayer, Executive Director of the Lobster Institute at the University of Maine. Warmer than usual ocean water could be driving the lobsters from their deeper winter homes towards their shallower molting grounds too early for the summer tourists and processors to consume.

This is not the only change we’re seeing. According to Bob, there is a lobster population boom underway from north of Cape Cod well up into Canada. They are increasing in number from year to year, to the point that they are might be overcrowding the ecosystem, which might make them more vulnerable to disease and is possibly leading to cannibalism.

Why are there so many lobsters? Bob thinks there might be few factors at play. First, he thinks it’s possible that water pollution south of Cape Cod might be inhibiting lobster recruitment, while waters to the north are cleaner. Temperature is probably a factor as well, for a couple of reasons. First, lobsters grow more quickly in warmer water. Newly hatched lobsters spend their larval stages near the surface of the water, where they are more exposed to predators, and have to develop adequately before they can settle on the relative safety of the ocean floor. When they grow faster, they reach safety faster. The second reason temperature could be helping lobster populations to increase is that warmer waters can increase the amount of food available to lobsters, which fuels their faster growth -  they only grow quickly if there is enough to eat.

If you add it all up – warm, clean water with lots to eat, you get population growth. What usually keeps growth from becoming a boom is predators – in this case, fish like cod and haddock. Cod and haddock, you’ve probably heard, are not having a population boom. So with fewer things around to eat them, except for hungry tourists – and there’s a short season for those – the lobster continue to boom.

Spring is a time of change, of re-growth and renewal. It is also turning into a time of more bad news for New England lobstermen, who depend on a healthy lobster population with a predictable seasonal molt to make a living. Last year, even with the abundance of lobsters in the sea, fishermen struggled with low market prices due to the glut of product. The entire ecosystem in our New England waters is shifting, and it’s anybody’s guess how things will end up, but it seems clear that making a living from the sea is becoming more unpredictable.

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Under the Ice
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Getting Educated – Sea Rovers Style

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Categories: Events/Calendar

I’ll be honest with you – I tend to stay on top of the water when I’m in the ocean. Or, I try, anyway. As a surfer the goal is to spend as little time underwater as possible. Especially in the winter. But I’m starting to think I’m missing out on something by avoiding the chilly depths of our Gulf of Maine.

The Boston Sea Rovers, one of the oldest underwater clubs in the nation, hosted its 59th annual show this past weekend, and I was lucky enough to be there with some fellow CLFers. We went to talk about the importance of preserving valuable habitat, like Cashes Ledge, for protecting our fragile ocean ecosystems and helping our dwindling groundfish stocks recover.

We hoped that by showing people Brian Skerry’s beautiful photographs of the gorgeous kelp forest and amazing animals of Cashes Ledge, the divers would be inspired to help us protect it. They were – we got hundreds of signatures on our petition to ask our fisheries managers to protect essential habitat in the Gulf of Maine. And, while we may have gone there to talk, we ended up doing a lot of listening as well. Here are just a few things I learned after spending two days talking with divers:

  • The Gulf of Maine is an excellent place to dive. There are so many wonderful animals to see here.
  • But visibility often stinks. This is partly due to the very productive nature of our waters. As phytoplankton bloom and the food chain gets going, it gets a little harder to see. Or, poor visibility can be due to human activities in the water (see next bullet).
  • The ocean floor looks pretty bad after a bottom trawler comes through. I heard this dozens of times this weekend. “It looks like a freshly plowed field,” said one diver, and you can see the sediment plume from miles away.
  • The next time I want to talk to divers about the amazing beauty of Cashes Ledge, I’d better bring a map so they know how to get there and see for themselves.
  • The Massachusetts Division of Marine Fisheries, Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, and the Discovery Channel have partnered to develop a robot that can follow a white shark. Seriously. I saw the footage. More on this later in the month (yes, I am totally geeking out on this).

 

I also learned that, in spite of difficulties equalizing my ears underwater, there may be ways I can still get down below, if I take things very slowly. I’m pretty stoked to find out if that’s true. My 10 year old son, who was with me this weekend, wants to learn also. Even more motivating!

I’m not sure I’ll be as hardy as diver Zachary Whalen, who took this awesome picture under the ice, but maybe I can at least go down below on a warmer day and watch the seals that I usually only see when they pop their heads up next to me while I surf.  But if there are waves – I’m bringing my board.

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Flounder
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A Beautiful Flounder

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Categories: Photo Contest

Thank you to everyone who has entered our photo contest! We have so many beautiful images from this month’s Sea Rovers photo contest, and are really excited to share some of them with you over the next few weeks.

This wonderful flounder photograph was taken at near Nubble Light House, in York, Maine. Many thanks to Michel Labrecque for sharing this (and some other great photos) with us.

Keep checking back for more, and think about entering your own New England ocean pictures.

Entering is easy! Explore New England’s oceans, take some photographs and then share them with our online community on Flickr™. All you need to do is add your photos to the New England Ocean Odyssey group and tag them “PhotoContestNEOO”. Find out more here.

Also check our our New England Ocean Odyssey Facebook page where we’ll be posting the honorable mentions from the January photo contest over the next few days.

We look forward to seeing your photos!

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Moon Snail
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Our Sea Rovers photo contest winner loves a good dive!

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Categories: Guest Posters | Photo Contest

Congratulations to Josh Cummings, for submitting the photo Brian Skerry chose as the winner of this month’s contest - this exquisite image of a moon snail navigating the sandy bottom of Folly Cove in Rockport, MA. We asked Josh to tell us more about his passion for diving in New England. Read on to hear about Josh’s New England Ocean Odyssey.

 

My first experiences underwater date back to the early 1980’s while I was on a family vacation. Being only eight years old, I was way too young to dive, but all it took was one snorkeling trip and I was hooked. What I saw was a whole new world; colorful tropical fish in crystal clear warm water swimming amongst vibrant canyon like coral reefs. My little brother and I explored for hours, watching animals such as parrot fish munching on coral, angelfish chasing each other around and moray eels curiously staring us down.

As soon as we got home from that trip, my parents took us down to the local dive shop where I got my first mask and snorkel set; this was the beginning of my love for diving.  After a wait that seemed eternal, my little brother and I signed up for a scuba diving course when he was twelve and I was thirteen:  just old enough. 

We grew up in New Hampshire, close to the Vermont border, where there were no tropical fish or coral reefs to be found, but we were still amazed by what we could find beneath the surface. In those ponds and lakes we were free, able to move around three-dimensionally through the water and swim amongst the trout, bass, and pumpkinseed; still holding out hope that one of Captain Kidd’s ships ended up in a New Hampshire pond.

I continued snorkeling and diving in the nearby ponds and lakes until college, when diving really became an obsession. I took a job at the local dive shop, Underwater Sports of NH, learning everything I could about the sport, and went diving as much as I could.  I dreamt of diving in far-off exotic lands, but being a broke college student kept me in New England. There were still many adventures to be had – off beaches, on shipwrecks, under the ice, in caves and even quarries. 

 

Herring and beer bottle

Back then, I began to notice the destructive influence people have had on our marine environment. I saw the destruction caused by draggers, the deaths caused by carelessly discarded or lost fishing gear, centuries-old and modern trash, as well as the devastating effects of invasive species, such as zebra mussels. 

I noticed that when I recounted my stories to non-divers they were surprised by two things: 1) That there is anything to see in New England waters; and 2) That activities, like carelessly conducted fishing and boating or forgetting that plastic cup on the beach, had long-term consequences. 

I did what I thought I could to help the situation. I participated in underwater clean ups and reminded customers to properly clean their equipment and boats when traveling between water bodies. These were little things that helped, but I knew they were only temporary and small solutions – a Band-Aid. The real solution lies in changing people’s attitudes and behaviors. 

I left the dive shop after I graduated and started my career in the environmental field, but I kept on diving. As soon as I could, I bought a high quality underwater camera system so I could finally share with family and friends what I saw in those murky ponds and chilly surf. As I practiced and slowly got better, I saw how many people were amazed by the colors, beauty, and sheer volume of life in our New England waters. 

I soon realized that the best way to convey the natural beauty of the life in our waters, as well as the damage being done, was through photographs. I wanted to show the destruction, while also showing what is there to protect. 

While I have yet to publish any of my photographs commercially, I am proud to have provided many of my photographs to organizations and agencies aimed at protecting our environment such as CLF’s New England Ocean Odyssey, the U.S. EPA and the USACE.  Over the past year I have been able to document some incredible marine life behaviors: Atlantic squid mating and laying their eggs, and herring migrating through a rushing herring run. Small wonders happening right here in our backyards. 

People often ask, “Where is your favorite place to dive?” It’s a hard question to answer. In my 25years underwater, I have been fortunate enough to dive all over the world (Caribbean, Mexico, California, Thailand, and Palau) with each providing an incredibly different and new experience, but I will always love the excitement and adventure that our New England waters offer. This is my personal New England Ocean Odyssey.

Josh

Josh Cummings is an Environmental Scientist for Jacobs Engineering at the New Bedford Harbor Superfund Site. He has a degree in Industrial Chemistry and has been a certified diver since 1987 with certifications through PADI, TDI and IANTD. 

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